Post by dsb on Jun 24, 2018 20:59:07 GMT
“KANAKO! KANAKO!!”
Kanako Akiyama stops in her tracks, in the middle of trying to leave FAWN Arena, rolling her luggage alongside her when she hears a woman’s voice calling to her. She runs a hand across her face, which is twisted in an unseen snarl. She was hoping to get out without having to talk to anyone. She quickly tries to tamp down her frustration and turns to face Mel Sutton with a slight, if humorless, smile.
KANAKO AKIYAMA
MEL SUTTON
“Yes, Mel?” she finally says as politely as she can, “What can I do for you?”
The Director of FAWN’s Social Media has dragged a lone cameraman with her to try (successfully, as it turned out) to intercept Kanako before leaving the Arena. As soon as they’d caught up with her, Mel takes a moment to straighten her hair and smooth her blouse before giving a nod to the cameraman to begin filming.
“Well, Kanako,” she begins, “I just wanted to ask you the question that’s on everyone’s mind. Why?” Kanako doesn’t answer right away, simply staring at the five-foot-nothing blonde, prompting her to elaborate. “To the best of my research, you do not know either Yoona Park nor Camille Cosworth, correct?”
Kanako shakes her head, “I do not, no.”
“And Yuko Ogawa,” Kanako’s expression hardens at the mention of the leader of Asian Invasion, “had a valid point. Miss Park has alienated virtually everyone in the FAWN locker room with her brash attitude. To the point where nobody could be blamed for not going out there to try and help them, not even to save Cam, who is well-liked by most.” Kanako remains silent, so Mel repeats the question, “So...why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Kanako states simply. She then chuckles humorlessly before continuing, “Yuko Ogawa...Did you know, prior to my debut here, that woman called me for a week straight, trying to recruit me into Asian Invasion.”
“Obviously, you said no.”
“Obviously.” Kanako continued tersely, “There’s a reason she does business here in FAWN, Mel, and not in our shared homeland. No promotion there worth a damn will touch her, because they see right through her. Yuko Ogawa is a woman who stands on the shoulders of giants and tries to claim she climbed a mountain.”
Mel nods in understanding, “As Asian Invasion was retreating, Ogawa issued a threat to you personally, that you would pay for interfering with them. Would you care to respond to her now?”
"Only with what I said at the time." Kanako shrugged. "I'm not hard to find, and I don't back down from a fight. Four on one? They'd better be prepared to put me in the morgue. You have no idea how sick of this I am right now, Mel. Honor, Ogawa. Do you know what that means? It means I don't need to stand here and talk shit or make big-mouthed promises about what I'm going to do to you and your clique if you keep fucking up. It means I do what I do because it's the right thing to do, and I don't give a damn about the consequences. You have a problem with that? Come do something about it, like a real warrior."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself. When she opened them again, she looked at Mel with that trademark intensity the crowd fell in love with, her gaze alone driving the diminutive blonde back a step. "I've said all that can be said. We done?”
“Actually, I wanted to --”
“MAKE LIKE A TREE AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” a roar interrupts from off-screen.
YOONA PARK
The cameraman pivots about to find the interloper, and soon the lens focuses on Yoona Park as she staggers towards Mel and Kanako. Just a couple of hours removed from her latest defense of the EurAsian title, Park has changed into her street clothes, though she appears disheveled and drunk as she stumbles down the hallway, careening from one wall to the other. As she gets closer, the camera picks up on the nearly empty bottle of Tennessee whiskey in her hand, likely purloined from the locker of Harley Jo Collins and obviously the source of her current inebriation.
Mel gives Kanako a confused look, while the Modern Day Ronin simply facepalms and mouths a silent “Fucking goddamnit”. She just wanted to leave, quiet, unseen, and unmolested. When Sutton still has not cleared out by the time Park approaches them, Yoona palms the side of her head in one hand and gives a rough shove to the side.
“WHAT PART OF EAT SHIT AND DIE DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” the EurAsian champion bellows again, only inches away from the diminutive blonde’s face.
Sutton backs away with her hands held up and eyes averted, knowing it would be hazardous to remain in the vicinity of the belligerent wrestler. As she relocates to a safe distance with her cameraman, however, she mouths a silent “KEEP ROLLING” directly to the lens. Akiyama wordlessly turns to leave as well, not bothering to placate Park with any sort of supplicating gesture, but Yoona stops her in her tracks by grabbing the back of her collar. Despite the aggressive motion, her voice is soft and slurred when she speaks.
“You and I… we need to talk…”
Kanako considers it for a moment, her right hand already tucked into her jacket and wrapped around her collapsible baton. If she has concerns about things turning violent, those worries are alleviated when Yoona plops to a seat on the bare cement floor and leans heavily against the wall. Park finishes what’s left of her liquor in a single swig, then she tosses the empty bottle a dozen feet down the hallway where it shatters upon impact.
“Okay…” Akiyama says as she cautiously turns around, remaining on her feet and on her guard while she looks down on the other wrestler. “...talk.”
Yoona sighs, “What you said… about doing the right thing… did you mean that?”
Kanako gives a single nod, a slight, subtle movement that Yoona couldn’t possibly have seen with her eyes still downcast towards the floor, but Park gives a bitter chuckle in response anyway.
“Doing the right thing… that’s what Cam… w -- when she…”
Park trails off and she remains silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.
“I’m tired, Kanako. Tired of getting revenge after the fact. I even saw Waterford on TV a few weeks ago at the royal wedding. That fucking asshole was being pushed around in a wheelchair and wearing these big-ass sunglasses to hide the bruises still on her face. If I could do THAT… beat a motherfucker to within an inch of her life… and these suicidal dipshits STILL have the gall to lay a finger on -- fuck! FUCK! I COULD BE PEELING OGURA'S FACE FROM HER SKULL RIGHT NOW...!"
Yoona's voice hits a crescendo and cracks before she begins hyperventilating, the EurAsian champion panting heavily as she repeatedly smashes her fist into the wall behind her.
"...but what good is that? What the hell am I doing? What’s the point of any of this...?” she bitterly adds after a lengthy pause.
Akiyama gathers her thoughts before replying, “Camille needs you to be her partner, Yoona, not her avenger.” After Yoona offers no reply, she adds, “That’s how I see it, anyway. She needs your love, hatred doesn’t help either of you.”
“No. No, I guess it doesn’t…” Park mutters to herself before addressing Kanako. “Look, I… umm… I don’t do this a lot, so here goes…”
Yoona forces herself from slouching to hands and knees and crawls forward a couple of feet. Before Kanako can react, the other Park clasps both hands around her ankles and lays her forehead on the tops of her boots.
“Thank you, Kanako Akiyama… for everything.”
Her gratitude expressed, Yoona rolls onto her back and lays in a loose-limbed starfish on the cold, hard cement.
“You need anything --ever -- just say the word,” she slurs while staring at the ceiling. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a nap till the room --”
“Friends,” Kanako suddenly blurts out, not quite sure of what came over herself.
A long, pregnant pause.
Long enough for Akiyama to feel incredibly awkward. She’s just about to turn on her heels and walk away when Park finally speaks again.
“.......friends,” Yoona flatly repeats as she holds up her left hand, all fingers curled into a fist save for an extended pinkie.
The gesture elicits a short burst of exasperated, incredulous laughter from Kanako, though she reciprocates by hooking her little finger with Park’s.
“...with benefits, right?” Yoona asks, looking to tack on a little something extra.
“Umm, no. No offense, but you’re really not my t --”
“Bah! Whatever, asshole!” Park snorts while she retracts her hand and curls into a more comfortable napping position. “You were hotter with long hair anyway…”
Kanako chuckles and shakes her head as Yoona closes her eyes and drifts off into a drunken oblivion. At first, she gathers up her luggage and begins to go on her way. But then, she looks back at the sleeping Korean, clearly using the bottle to mask her hurt.
“Friends…” she repeats to no-one. If they’re friends now, she reasons, she should, you know, be a friend. Nodding to herself, she parks her luggage against the wall and herself alongside the sleeping Park. She pats Yoona’s shoulder, which gets no reaction at all, while she closes her own eyes, wondering what she’s just gotten herself into.
Kanako Akiyama stops in her tracks, in the middle of trying to leave FAWN Arena, rolling her luggage alongside her when she hears a woman’s voice calling to her. She runs a hand across her face, which is twisted in an unseen snarl. She was hoping to get out without having to talk to anyone. She quickly tries to tamp down her frustration and turns to face Mel Sutton with a slight, if humorless, smile.
KANAKO AKIYAMA
MEL SUTTON
“Yes, Mel?” she finally says as politely as she can, “What can I do for you?”
The Director of FAWN’s Social Media has dragged a lone cameraman with her to try (successfully, as it turned out) to intercept Kanako before leaving the Arena. As soon as they’d caught up with her, Mel takes a moment to straighten her hair and smooth her blouse before giving a nod to the cameraman to begin filming.
“Well, Kanako,” she begins, “I just wanted to ask you the question that’s on everyone’s mind. Why?” Kanako doesn’t answer right away, simply staring at the five-foot-nothing blonde, prompting her to elaborate. “To the best of my research, you do not know either Yoona Park nor Camille Cosworth, correct?”
Kanako shakes her head, “I do not, no.”
“And Yuko Ogawa,” Kanako’s expression hardens at the mention of the leader of Asian Invasion, “had a valid point. Miss Park has alienated virtually everyone in the FAWN locker room with her brash attitude. To the point where nobody could be blamed for not going out there to try and help them, not even to save Cam, who is well-liked by most.” Kanako remains silent, so Mel repeats the question, “So...why?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.” Kanako states simply. She then chuckles humorlessly before continuing, “Yuko Ogawa...Did you know, prior to my debut here, that woman called me for a week straight, trying to recruit me into Asian Invasion.”
“Obviously, you said no.”
“Obviously.” Kanako continued tersely, “There’s a reason she does business here in FAWN, Mel, and not in our shared homeland. No promotion there worth a damn will touch her, because they see right through her. Yuko Ogawa is a woman who stands on the shoulders of giants and tries to claim she climbed a mountain.”
Mel nods in understanding, “As Asian Invasion was retreating, Ogawa issued a threat to you personally, that you would pay for interfering with them. Would you care to respond to her now?”
"Only with what I said at the time." Kanako shrugged. "I'm not hard to find, and I don't back down from a fight. Four on one? They'd better be prepared to put me in the morgue. You have no idea how sick of this I am right now, Mel. Honor, Ogawa. Do you know what that means? It means I don't need to stand here and talk shit or make big-mouthed promises about what I'm going to do to you and your clique if you keep fucking up. It means I do what I do because it's the right thing to do, and I don't give a damn about the consequences. You have a problem with that? Come do something about it, like a real warrior."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, steadying herself. When she opened them again, she looked at Mel with that trademark intensity the crowd fell in love with, her gaze alone driving the diminutive blonde back a step. "I've said all that can be said. We done?”
“Actually, I wanted to --”
“MAKE LIKE A TREE AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!” a roar interrupts from off-screen.
YOONA PARK
The cameraman pivots about to find the interloper, and soon the lens focuses on Yoona Park as she staggers towards Mel and Kanako. Just a couple of hours removed from her latest defense of the EurAsian title, Park has changed into her street clothes, though she appears disheveled and drunk as she stumbles down the hallway, careening from one wall to the other. As she gets closer, the camera picks up on the nearly empty bottle of Tennessee whiskey in her hand, likely purloined from the locker of Harley Jo Collins and obviously the source of her current inebriation.
Mel gives Kanako a confused look, while the Modern Day Ronin simply facepalms and mouths a silent “Fucking goddamnit”. She just wanted to leave, quiet, unseen, and unmolested. When Sutton still has not cleared out by the time Park approaches them, Yoona palms the side of her head in one hand and gives a rough shove to the side.
“WHAT PART OF EAT SHIT AND DIE DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” the EurAsian champion bellows again, only inches away from the diminutive blonde’s face.
Sutton backs away with her hands held up and eyes averted, knowing it would be hazardous to remain in the vicinity of the belligerent wrestler. As she relocates to a safe distance with her cameraman, however, she mouths a silent “KEEP ROLLING” directly to the lens. Akiyama wordlessly turns to leave as well, not bothering to placate Park with any sort of supplicating gesture, but Yoona stops her in her tracks by grabbing the back of her collar. Despite the aggressive motion, her voice is soft and slurred when she speaks.
“You and I… we need to talk…”
Kanako considers it for a moment, her right hand already tucked into her jacket and wrapped around her collapsible baton. If she has concerns about things turning violent, those worries are alleviated when Yoona plops to a seat on the bare cement floor and leans heavily against the wall. Park finishes what’s left of her liquor in a single swig, then she tosses the empty bottle a dozen feet down the hallway where it shatters upon impact.
“Okay…” Akiyama says as she cautiously turns around, remaining on her feet and on her guard while she looks down on the other wrestler. “...talk.”
Yoona sighs, “What you said… about doing the right thing… did you mean that?”
Kanako gives a single nod, a slight, subtle movement that Yoona couldn’t possibly have seen with her eyes still downcast towards the floor, but Park gives a bitter chuckle in response anyway.
“Doing the right thing… that’s what Cam… w -- when she…”
Park trails off and she remains silent for a few seconds before she speaks again.
“I’m tired, Kanako. Tired of getting revenge after the fact. I even saw Waterford on TV a few weeks ago at the royal wedding. That fucking asshole was being pushed around in a wheelchair and wearing these big-ass sunglasses to hide the bruises still on her face. If I could do THAT… beat a motherfucker to within an inch of her life… and these suicidal dipshits STILL have the gall to lay a finger on -- fuck! FUCK! I COULD BE PEELING OGURA'S FACE FROM HER SKULL RIGHT NOW...!"
Yoona's voice hits a crescendo and cracks before she begins hyperventilating, the EurAsian champion panting heavily as she repeatedly smashes her fist into the wall behind her.
"...but what good is that? What the hell am I doing? What’s the point of any of this...?” she bitterly adds after a lengthy pause.
Akiyama gathers her thoughts before replying, “Camille needs you to be her partner, Yoona, not her avenger.” After Yoona offers no reply, she adds, “That’s how I see it, anyway. She needs your love, hatred doesn’t help either of you.”
“No. No, I guess it doesn’t…” Park mutters to herself before addressing Kanako. “Look, I… umm… I don’t do this a lot, so here goes…”
Yoona forces herself from slouching to hands and knees and crawls forward a couple of feet. Before Kanako can react, the other Park clasps both hands around her ankles and lays her forehead on the tops of her boots.
“Thank you, Kanako Akiyama… for everything.”
Her gratitude expressed, Yoona rolls onto her back and lays in a loose-limbed starfish on the cold, hard cement.
“You need anything --ever -- just say the word,” she slurs while staring at the ceiling. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna take a nap till the room --”
“Friends,” Kanako suddenly blurts out, not quite sure of what came over herself.
A long, pregnant pause.
Long enough for Akiyama to feel incredibly awkward. She’s just about to turn on her heels and walk away when Park finally speaks again.
“.......friends,” Yoona flatly repeats as she holds up her left hand, all fingers curled into a fist save for an extended pinkie.
The gesture elicits a short burst of exasperated, incredulous laughter from Kanako, though she reciprocates by hooking her little finger with Park’s.
“...with benefits, right?” Yoona asks, looking to tack on a little something extra.
“Umm, no. No offense, but you’re really not my t --”
“Bah! Whatever, asshole!” Park snorts while she retracts her hand and curls into a more comfortable napping position. “You were hotter with long hair anyway…”
Kanako chuckles and shakes her head as Yoona closes her eyes and drifts off into a drunken oblivion. At first, she gathers up her luggage and begins to go on her way. But then, she looks back at the sleeping Korean, clearly using the bottle to mask her hurt.
“Friends…” she repeats to no-one. If they’re friends now, she reasons, she should, you know, be a friend. Nodding to herself, she parks her luggage against the wall and herself alongside the sleeping Park. She pats Yoona’s shoulder, which gets no reaction at all, while she closes her own eyes, wondering what she’s just gotten herself into.