Standing on the balcony, dressed in casual attire, WZCW veteran wrestler Kagura stared out into the sea of empty chairs. They were filled with people not even a week before. This was Madison Square Garden, the most famous arena in the world. While wrestling in Japan, she often heard many of the veterans express a desire to work there one day. MSG was the crown jewel of the industry. From the lights, to the atmosphere, to the way the roar of the crowd was amplified, swelling up into a chorus of harmonious cheers, permeating her bones whenever she stepped onto the stage. It was an experience like nothing else, and a week ago, Kagura received a standing ovation for the match she had with Mark Keaton.
“I saw online where Keaton couldn’t reach an agreement on his contract with management, and he’s gone. We spent many years as adversaries and rivals, but I had respect for him. I never thought that I’d be his last opponent. If that was a disappointment to him, then I suppose I must apologize for being underwhelming.”
She mused to herself. There was no one around to hear her, except for the ghosts that filled this place. The resting place for all the blood, sweat, and grit of so many generations of wrestlers that just wanted to prove that they were worth something.
“When I first came to America after signing with WZCW, I didn’t know anything about this country, or its culture,” Kagura said.
She looked down at the ring below. Images of her match with Keaton flashed before her, and filled her mind. Keaton had attempted a shooting star press, but overshot it, allowing her to nail him with the heart punch for the win. She had tweaked her knee in the match, and it still hurt. She was going to have to wear a brace for her next match. Staring down at the ring, the images began to fade away.
“Sayonara, Keaton-san. I won’t apologize for the happiness that I felt when the referee raised my hand in victory. That was a weight lifted off my shoulders for a change. Perhaps we were fated to face off again in the Gold Rush first round. You were always the exact opposite of me; loud, abrasive, and obnoxious. Though, you knew how to have fun, which was something I forgot about a long time ago. I hope I absorbed some of that untamable spirit of yours. I’m sure that I’ll need it.”
Her mind flashed back to a conversation that she and her advocate had shared earlier on in the evening. It was Thanksgiving Day tomorrow.
---
When she first came to America after signing with WZCW, Kagura hadn’t known anything about the culture or the customs. She had to rely on Sasuke, who was then her manager, for so much back in her rookie days. She arrived in WZCW during the summer, and she could still remember the first time the older man had asked her
“What are you thankful for?” The Japanese Labor Thanksgiving didn’t have the same concept of the American Thanksgiving. Falling a day later than the US holiday, it was a time to appreciate those in the working class. Kagura could remember being a child in grade school, and writing letters and decorating cards to give to the postal workers, and the teachers, and the police and firefighters. She was from a culture that didn’t value idiocentric values. She had long since viewed herself as just another cog in the machine, even after coming to WZCW.
“Hey, Sasuke,” she asked in her native tongue, turning towards the older man.
They had caught a cab, and were on their way to get some dinner. No immense turkey feast awaited them, unfortunately.
“Many years ago, you asked me what I was thankful for, do you remember?”
He shook his head,
“I can’t even remember what I had for lunch yesterday, let alone something from years ago. I do remember you being proud to be able to work here, since it was away from Japan, but you were such a traditionalist in everything that you approached, that it was difficult breaking you out of your shell.”
Kagura sneered, remembering the first time she had been asked to cut a promo in front of thousands of people, and she couldn’t do it. She was awestruck watching all the other performers. They were all so audacious, bold, and daring that it made her feel weak.
“Besides,” he continued.
“We went back to Japan that year, I think.”
She nodded, remembering visiting her grandfather that year. He didn’t like her decision to become a pro wrestler, but supported her nonetheless.
“That’s right, I remember my grandfather comparing me to the great hero Mitsuhiro Showa. He said that I had something to prove.”
Sasuke cocked an eyebrow,
“Well did you?”
“I was the first woman from Japan to compete in WZCW, I had the pride of an entire country on my back. You know what that’s like.”
He laughed, and nodded,
“I hated it.”
“I was just thankful for the opportunity to compete here,” she said.
That changed a year later. Kagura would come to possess the book of the onryo, and master its power. Sasuke had fallen into a coma. She was working with John Constantine’s group, ‘The Elite.’ It was around that time that she started to think about of her own self-worth. No one had asked that year what Kagura had been thankful for, but if she had to give an answer, it was the right to fight for opportunities that she wanted, and the ability to crush those that got in her way.
“I watch some of my older matches, from before I started traveling with Derrick, and I can’t believe that was once me,” Kagura said.
“I changed my identity so many times back then, that even to this day I am convinced that I was possessed.”
“I’ve seen some of those matches too,” replied Sasuke.
“You were ruthless, savage even. You aren’t like that now, but you are a lot more cynical than you used to be.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded.
“Especially when it comes to trusting others. Even if you were possessed, you still stabbed quite a few people in the back, and now years later, you’re terrified that it’s going to happen to you.”
Kagura looked at the older man like he had a screw lose, but deep down, she knew he was right.
“Am I wrong?”
She sighed, and shook her head.
“Look, Kagura, I’m not going to leave you. Derrick’s not going to betray you, but you’ll have to get over that fear sometime. When I wrestled, I did awful stuff too. I had partners turn on me, allies betray me, it’s a learning experience.”
“I was the one that betrayed him, Sasuke” she said.
“I pushed Derrick away from me in the first place.”
“He came back, right? He did that because he loves you, and you trust him, correct?” he responded.
Kagura rubbed her fingers over her engagement ring,
“Of course I trust him, I wouldn’t have agreed to marry him if I didn’t.”
“Then why can’t you let go of all that insecurity whenever you step into the ring?”
“I don’t know,” she said, raising her voice.
“I’m worried that the monster that I used to be after I stole Rmaparte’s voice, was the person that I’ve always been! That ghost couldn’t have latched onto me so tightly if I wasn’t such a compatible host. Why did it take me so long to free myself from that curse? Derrick said I nearly died in an alleyway after overdosing, but I don’t remember any of that. I tried to forget about whole ordeal, but deep down, I’m scared. I’m scared that laughing, maniacal, lunatic was me all along.”
Kagura laid her head against the glass of the window, as Sasuke took a deep breath.
“I’ve been around a lot of crazy people,” he answered
. “This business has a way of attracting sociopathic A-types, that don’t give a shit about anyone but themselves. People that want to watch the world burn just because it’s funny, or people that would throw their own families under the bus if it could buy them an advantage. I was an asshole, I had to be in order to survive. My antics cost me my marriage. I’m not proud of that, but you don’t strike me as the kind of person. However, I do think that you need to do you, Kagura.”
She turned, and sat up, pushing herself away from the window. Kagura tilted her head, and gazed at her advocate.
“What do you mean?”
Sasuke laughed,
“You’ve been limiting yourself, living off tradition, forcing yourself to be kind and polite all the time. You only do that to hide your shame. It sucks that Japanese culture has to be the way that it is, and I’m sure you’ve noticed it, all the years that you’ve been here. Being an individual isn’t celebrated like it is here. Be honest, Kagura, you still haven’t grasped the concept of idiocentrism, have you?”
The younger woman pondered his words for a bit. What did individuality mean to her? She supposed it reflected her morals and values, coupled with her abilities, in addition to her personality traits, but Sasuke shook his head, even when she stated that she had a goal.
“Why do you want to be world champion again?” he asked.
“Weren’t you treated like a conquering hero when you won the title in Tokyo? They practically threw a fucking parade in your honor. Your name’s in the history books now. WZCW could close its doors tomorrow, and you’d still be recognized as one of the 27 individuals to reach the top of the mountain.”
Kagura opened her mouth to speak, but Sasuke interrupted her,
“Don’t tell me you’re doing this for more money. Management already offered you a huge deal, I was there. You and Derrick have plenty of money to throw your dream wedding, plus a honeymoon to the damn moon if that’s where you want to go. If you’re thinking that you’re going to shoot for the stars, win the belt a second time, and reign longer than anyone else in history, I have bad news for you kid. That goal is unrealistic. Life has a way of kicking us in the ass, even when we’re trying our best.”
She pouted, and crossed her arms at her advocates logic. He groaned, feeling like he was lecturing a child.
“Look, Kagura, I told you before Gold Rush started that you needed to learn how to have fun. You can’t do that if you’re trying to live your dreams for the sake of someone else. You have to live for yourself, that’s what being an individual is all about.”
Kagura unfolded her arms, and leaned back in her seat. She let out a sigh, as she stared at the ceiling.
“I still don’t get it.”
He chuckled,
“Maybe in time, you will.”
She sat up, and flashed the older man a smile,
“This year, there’s one thing that I am thankful for, and that’s to have you by my side, Sasuke.”
He laughed, heartily this time.
“That’s a very allocentric answer, but I’ll take it.”
---
Kagura’s mind snapped back into place, as she found herself back on the balcony inside an empty Madison Square Garden. She stared down at the empty ring below. In just a few more days, this place would be packed once more, as the Gold Rush tournament continued on into the second round. Kagura shook her head, remembering what happened the previous year when she made it to the second round, and lost to Lynx. While she wasn’t planning on reliving that shame, there had been a silver lining to that defeat. She went on to qualify for that years KFAD at Gold Rush; a match that she won. Ever the optimistic one, Kagura knew she might recieve another chance to scale the mountain if she lost her upcoming match, but she hadn’t won a match on PPV since Gold Rush of last year. Kami be damned if she was going to lick her wounds one more time! She was tired of losing.
“My next opponent is Callie Clark,” Kagura stated out loud.
“She’s wasn’t an opponent that I was expecting to face, but when life throws you curveballs, you just have to learn to swing for the fences.”
In her mind, she imagined all the people in the audience. Callie had the hometown advantage. Would the raucous New York crowd cheer the home town girl over her? Maybe, it was a possibility. They had given her a warm reception in her previous match. She wondered how many foreigners had stepped foot into that ring? Wait, wasn’t the hero that sold out this arena more times than anyone an Italian? She shook her head, it definitely wasn’t Mancini.
“Callie has always been her own person, so it’s funny to me that she chooses to cosplay. She doesn’t dress up in all these different outfits out of habit, or for necessity. She does it, because it’s part of her identity. Of course in Japan, she’d be ostracized as complete weirdo, as otaku’s are the bane of society, but I’m not going to knock her preferences. She’s out there having fun, every single match.”
For that reason, maybe Kagura did respect her a little. Callie, despite being an obnoxious and loathsome woman, possessed a cult of personality that the shrine maiden could not explain. She was selfish and hateful, so how could anyone like a person like that?
“Come to think of it, Callie has an even larger male fanbase than I do,” she said, scratching her chin. “Yet she doesn’t think of them as much more than pigs and idiots. Wouldn’t surprise me if some of the lonelier members of her fanbase were paying her to kick them in the balls at autograph signings, but I don’t check social media that much anymore.”
Social media was garbage anyways. Everyday she would wake up to read something new, like Titus had tweeted out
“RIP Stan Lee. Even though JACK KIRBY did most of the work #NEVERFORGETTOAA.” World champion Flex Mussel raged,
“Some land whale just tried to ask for my autograph >: ( No fatties allowed in #FLEXAMERICA.” Mikey Stormrage had sent out that morning,
“Don’t eat the burrito at the MSG Taco Bell #EXPLOSIVEDIARRHEA.”
“I’m sure she’s had a lot to say about me, either online or publicly, but I don’t care. I’ve had to listen to all my opponents, year after year, say to me “You suck,” and “I’m better than you,” or “I deserve this more,” my favorite being “Kagura used to be good, but she’s on a downward spiral now,” or the classic, “she’s a hack that never deserved anything.” I let those words get under my skin for a long time, but I’m tired of it. My pride has been broken so many times by opponents that were never close to my level of talent or skill enough times that I seriously believed that I was trash. Callie Clark, you can pump yourself up with all the hot air that you want, but the reality is you’re nowhere close to my league when I choose to give a damn. Girl, winning Gold Rush this year, and earning that world title shot is something that I am OBSESSED with.”
Kagura smirked, she could hear the imaginary crowd that was soon to be filled by thousands of New Yorkers booing her already. The riot police better be standing by, because not one single Callie fan was going home happy.
“Callie, what exactly do you have that makes you better than me? Is it guts? Nope. Determination? Nah. Speed, technique, power, grappling skill? No to all four. You think you’re better than me because I fell from the top so quickly? Get over yourself! You haven’t been close enough to see the summit. You’ve never fought me one on one, so you have no idea what I am capable of. “
Kagura gripped the railing, and glanced down at the ring, as a vision of her and Callie on the mat came to life in her mind.
“You’re a striker, so you’ll probably try and kick me, or hit me with some forearm shots or a jab. Instead of wasting your time trying to figure out which costume to wear next, you should be watching old clips of what happens when a striker tries to fight a grappler. It’s not pretty, and it’s over fast. Once you’re on the ground, I’m not letting you back up. The moves in your arsenal, your tornado DDT, your running bull dog, that corkscrew plancha, the tornado double stomp, the spiral tap, and especially your beloved Calliesault, are just filler moves. They won’t be of any use to you when I have you tied up like a short, cute blonde pretzel. I am going to salt you with continuous armlocks, headlocks, leg scissors, and hammerlocks. Then, I am going to feed you to a loss curtsey of my sleeper hold. You’ll fall into a deep sleep, dreaming that you’re still the Elite champion, when in reality you’ll be the one having to pick up the pieces to your career. Don’t worry though, girlfriend. I’ll buy you a ticket, and you can watch me compete in the third round.”
Kagura stopped, and pondered Sasuke’s advice from earlier, and shook her head,
“Wanting to shoot for the stars is not an unrealistic goal. I’ve had my ass kicked by reality so many times, and I’ve never given up. Not once. If I do win the Gold Rush, then I’m doing it for myself, and only for myself. I’m more driven now than I ever have been, and dammit all if I don’t give this my best shot.” 
