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Tokyo.
It's one of those nights. The pavement is shiny and wet from a drizzle of rain gone by and the neon lights shine as brightly from their reflection on the asphalt as they do from their positions above, overlooking the hustling and bustling streets below. The sky is black and it's getting late but you wouldn't know that from the activity in front of the club. While nearby businesses are winding down, the club has a line around the corner made up of men in expensive suits, most of them with a woman in a slinky dress on their arm. Junko Souma knows what that means. She knows what kind of club this is. And she knows both of those things even before the entrance explodes outward with violent force, sending an aging salaryman in a brown suit into the street. He rolls to a stop at Brooke Blakely's feet, startling her. She looks down at him with wide eyes, seeing the blood pour from his nose and observing as the swelling underneath his eye gets worse and worse in real time. Clad in a red dress and ready for a night on the town after making her debut in Miracle Galaxy Pro, Brooke looks to her right at Junko Souma, a look of genuine concern on her face.  Junko kneels down next to the whimpering and mewling salaryman and tilts her head quizzically as she takes in his bloodied features. She cuts her eyes in the direction of the entrance and sees two men in suits and sunglasses watching her. Lying on his back, the bleeding man coughs and turns over on his side. He looks at the girl kneeling next to him and chokes out his next words through busted lips and stumps of broken teeth. MISBEHAVING SALARYMAN: Please... p-please-- Junko sighs and moves her hand along his face as though she's going to caress his split and bruised cheek... only to pivot and flick him on the nose, a cruel and childish gesture. The man rolls over on his back and sobs. Brooke places her hand on Junko's shoulder, getting her attention. Junko looks up at her, the neon lights flickering in her darkened eyes. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko... home? Junko's eyes narrow and she stands, meeting Brooke's gaze. Her tone is firm and matter-of-fact. JUNKO SOUMA: No. Junko turns and points toward the club. JUNKO SOUMA: Party. Without another word, Junko steps over the bleeding, sobbing man. She walks across the shiny wet pavement, toward the entrance of the club. Brooke takes one more look down at the bleeding man at her feet, then cuts her eyes back in the direction of the club, watching as Junko bypasses the line and approaches the bouncer directly. BROOKE BLAKELY: Wait, seriously?! Brooke gingerly walks around the man and, seconds later, finds herself next to Junko as a massive bald man in a suit assesses whether or not they should get in. He stands there quietly, patiently, as he awaits the confirmation in his ear piece. Brooke looks from Junko to the bouncer and back again, wondering how Junko's bold behavior will pay off. Seconds later, the man touches his ear piece, listening intently. He nods and then looks at the long line of men and women waiting to get inside. Junko folds her arms across her chest, making her impatience known. The bouncer looks down at her through his sunglasses and then nods before turning and pushing the door open. Someone in line audibly groans with frustration. BOUNCER: Welcome to OATH. Brooke does a double take, not believing it was that easy. BROOKE BLAKELY: --wait, what? How? Junko shrugs nonchalantly. JUNKO SOUMA: I know people. As Brooke turns her head to take another look at the type of people still waiting in line, Junko walks past the bouncer and into the club. Realizing she's been left behind, Brooke huffs and chases after, calling out to her. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko, what kind of people do you know?!  It moves differently in OATH. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours. Hours become a lifetime when you're surrounded by the most dangerous men in the Tokyo underworld. Standing a head shorter than almost everyone in the club, Junko pushes past them without effort, a look of determination on her pale stoic face. Brooke does her best to follow without offending any of the men with their sharp suits and stern faces. BROOKE BLAKELY: Sorry-- so sorry! I didn't mean to-- The music is loud, blasting her eardrums and reverberating throughout her skull. There's an aging man on a small stage in the middle of the room, doing his best to sing Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out For a Hero" and... he's having trouble, yes... that would be the most polite way to put it. For the briefest of moments, Brooke loses sight of Junko and almost takes a casual elbow to the face from a stone-faced man who looks exactly like the kind of guy who wouldn't care if he did just that. She winces away from him and tries to see through the crowd before Junko's hand finds her wrist and guides her toward a clearing in the room. JUNKO SOUMA: This way. Brooke feels relief wash over her... as much as relief can wash over someone when danger literally waits around every corner. As they draw closer, the clearing becomes more apparent. There's a collection of tables and booths, most of them occupied by men in suits and women in glamorous dresses. Brooke almost smiles against how she's feeling when she wonders if this is the V.I.P. section. That smile quickly fades into her memories when she sees the oversized booth at the back of the clearing and the man sitting behind the table, an attractive Japanese woman on either side of him... and at least six men in suits doing their best to appear like they're not just present to watch his back. Brooke chews her bottom lip nervously. Yeah, this is the V.I.P. section.
"As a young girl, it was always my dream to become a
number one professional wrestler. There were many people who
helped me along the way... enough that I don't know where I
would be without them... but, despite their help, despite
everything they did for me... there were times when I did
not think I would make it this far."
Brooke trails behind Junko, walking directly toward the oversized booth. She feels as though she's having an out-of-body experience as Junko drags her toward certain danger. She can't help but allow her eyes to trail up Junko's arm, seeing the fresh bruises and healing nicks and cuts which decorate her flesh and disappear beneath the point where her shoulder meets her black top. The man at the center of the booth, sitting between two women, raises his eyes to the two girls approaching his table and lifts his arm, signaling an approaching bodyguard to stop in his tracks. The man stands up and straightens his jacket. Junko bows politely and then nudges Brooke, suggesting she do the same... and she does. The man, in his early forties, smirks... and then quickly walks to the other side of the table, opening his arms. BOSS ENDO: Junko-chan! Junko hugs him tight. He holds her close for a moment before grabbing her shoulders and holding her at arm's length. He looks down at her, a proud look on his face. BOSS ENDO: It has been too long.
"James Raven... Tyler Cage... do you know who I am?
Have you even heard my name? I wouldn't think so, but...
I've been told I'm far too modest, so... maybe? Believe me
when I say that I am working on improving that aspect of my
personality. I only ask because... like those who came
before, I need your help..."
Endo looks past Junko and lets go of her. He looks Brooke up and down and then approaches her, taking some of her blonde hair between his fingers and twirling it. She's visibly uncomfortable. BOSS ENDO: Junko-chan, a gift? You shouldn't have.
"...we need your help."
Junko places her hand on Endo's wrist and guides his hand down. Another of his bodyguards, one with a dragon tattooed on his face, takes a step forward. Endo smiles and raises his hand, stopping him as he did the last. JUNKO SOUMA: No. She knew him before he was the boss, when he was only Takeshi Endo. He had been assigned to her by Boss Sato, a protector to keep her safe while operating among the shady underground idol scene... he'd gotten a promotion since King Kota Amasaki disappeared and he'd become the boss after Sato passed away. It pains her to see him taking more after Amasaki than Sato and she wonders if it pains him in the same way to see her take more after Hideo Chiba than himself. JUNKO SOUMA: No gift... guest. BOSS ENDO: Very well. Endo slams his open hand down on the table, getting everyone's attention. He shouts at the top of his lungs, almost drowning out the aging man doing karaoke. BOSS ENDO: NO ONE TOUCHES THE BLONDE ONE, OKAY!? ANYONE WHO BREAKS THIS RULE WILL LOSE THEIR BALLS, SO SAYS BOSS ENDO! His men grumble, unhappy with the decree.
"My career so far is a story of almosts. In my rookie
year, I was defeated in the finals of the IIW Queen of the
Ring tournament. I failed in my only attempt at becoming the
IIW Women's World Champion... and less than one month ago, I
was defeated in the CU:LT Killdozer Cup tournament... I have
been left with no trophies, no direction--"
Junko removes her hand from his wrist and he responds by taking her hand and pulling it close to his side. It reminds her of those days-- BOSS ENDO: Come, Junko. I was not expecting to see you tonight but I have something I would like to show you.
"--that changes now."
He begins to walk away with her but stops and looks over his shoulder. He raises an eyebrow and flashes a confident smile at Brooke, showing off a gold tooth that flickers in the neon lights. That's new, Junko thinks to herself. BOSS ENDO: You should come, too, blonde one. It's not safe out here with all these gangsters. They're animals! He laughs... only because he knows he has the full loyalty of his men. He told them not to touch her and they won't. As wild as his threat was, they know that he meant every single word. Brooke doesn't know that. She has no reason to know it, so she averts her eyes from his men and follows.
"We have been called foolish for entering this
tournament blindly. In a field with incredible talent like
Critical Hit, the IIW Tag Team Champions, the Gangsters of
Christ, as well as the Thunder Pro Wrestling Duos Champions,
the Malvados, we were told it would be suicide to compete
together for the first time ever in this tournament... but
we did."
He guides them toward a door at the back of the club. The stairwell within is dark and lifeless... cold. Brooke rubs her bare arms as a chill hits her. Endo begins climbing the steps and looks over his shoulder. BOSS ENDO: Do you remember that night, Junko-chan? The door to the stairwell creaks open and the bald man with the tattoo on his face enters behind them. Brooke looks down the stairs at him, worried. JUNKO SOUMA: I remember everything. An amused huff escapes him. BOSS ENDO: Then you will love this.
"And we won. Look at the teams who didn't make it
past the first round. Those are some of the best tag teams
in the entire world. They didn't make it... and we did.
Combined, we don't have half the experience of some of the
talent in this tournament like James Raven or Mac Bane. How
are we supposed to stand up to Thaddeus Duke or the current
reigning IIW World Champion, Joe Montouri? I mean... we're
not."
At the top of the stairs, there's another door. With a key, he unlocks it and steps inside. Junko and Brooke follow him, impressed by what they see. Collections of swords, flags, Samurai armor... an aquarium and a giant flat screen television. There's a framed black and white photo hanging behind his desk, slightly obscured by a flag. It looks familiar but Junko can't get a good look at it. BROOKE BLAKELY: ...wow. Brooke takes it all in... forgetting her surroundings for a moment. She reaches out and allows the tips of her fingers to trace along the grooves of a nearby suit of samurai armor.
"We're not supposed to win."
Endo opens a drawer and reaches inside. Junko notices that there's a hint of franticness to his movement. His hands visibly shake as touches the contents of the drawer. Junko's heart pounds, not knowing what to expect from the man who was once paid to protect her with his life. That was a long, long time ago. A lifetime.
"We're not even supposed to be here."
Taking a deep breath, he removes a Wakizashi short sword with a black and purple hilt and places it on the desk in front of him. The door to the office shuts behind them. The man with the face tattoo slides the lock in place. BOSS ENDO: Do you recognize this blade? The air is sucked out of the room.
"...but we are--"
There's no escape.
"--and we are winning."
Junko looks at the blade and nods. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko, what the heck is going on?
"Fred Debonair, Johnny Bacchus, Alice Knight... big
names that didn't move on from the first round. Names that,
well... maybe they should still be in the tournament instead
of the Dream Weavers. After all, that's what the experts
say, right?"
Brooke nudges Junko, speaking to her through clenched teeth, barely louder than a whisper. BROOKE BLAKELY: Seriously, what is this? Did you-- did you DO something? Junko continues staring down at the blade, emotionless.
"Wrong."
Head down, Junko cuts her eyes in Endo's direction. JUNKO SOUMA: I remember. Endo glares back at her. Sweat drips from the tip of his nose and falls on the desk in front of him. He picks up the blade and removes it from its sheath. The blade glimmers in the fluorescent lights above.
"You couldn't be more wrong... because those people,
those NAMES, they already have everything
they've ever wanted. They've had opportunities and achieved
their goals... they don't have DREAMS because they're
already living them.
So, yeah... Junko's right. James Raven, Tyler Cage--"
JUNKO SOUMA: That is the blade of Kota Amasaki.
"--Young and GOATed--"
JUNKO SOUMA: He died... that night.
"--you ARE going to help us."
The man with the tattooed face shifts behind them. Junko glares over her shoulder at him and growls through clenched teeth. JUNKO SOUMA: Hey, fat man. Why don't you stop moving around so much? You're making me nervous. She balls her hand into a fist. Brooke swallows hard, not exactly relieved by Junko admitting she's getting a bad vibe from this situation as well.
"You have nothing left to prove... you didn't even
want to BE in this tournament. You don't deserve to win...
you don't deserve to become the TPW Duos Champions. It
doesn't mean anything
to you... just another accolade to add to an already bloated
list-- just another title belt to go in your trophy case.
You don't appreciate anything
that this business has given to you... that's why we have to
beat you."
Endo eyes the tattooed man behind them, pinning him in place with his gaze.
"That is why we will win."
BOSS ENDO: Everyone there that night... is dead. He looks at her and his eyes darken. BOSS ENDO: Except us.
"This is our opportunity to prove that we belong
among the top competitors in the world. We will prove that
we are not only a number one tag team in professional
wrestling, but two number one wrestlers as well. We have
come this far by doing our best... and we will become even
stronger by training our spirit until the Dream Weavers are
worthy of soaring next to Thunderin' Terry Marshall and
Space Lord, the legendary Sports Entertainment Xpress!"
He holds the blade up, looking it over. BOSS ENDO: So why did I find this blade buried in the door of my home... where my children sleep? And why am I staring at the only person in the entire world who would know it exists... only one week later? Junko shifts uneasily, staring back at him. BOSS ENDO: Maybe your friend knows-- JUNKO SOUMA: --she doesn't know anything. Junko leans forward, placing both hands on the desk in front of her. Her eyes narrow as she stares a hole through Endo. His grip on the blade tightens. JUNKO SOUMA: Neither do I, jerk.
"Friday Night Fury... James Raven and Tyler Cage, one
of the biggest matches of our careers. You might look at
this as just another stepping stone to RetroMania for Young
and GOATed... but that's where you're wrong. The legendary
Serena Riot thought I'd be a pushover and I beat her, too.
We WILL do our best... we WILL become stronger... and on
March 21st, we WILL hit you with everything we've got."
Red in the face, Endo plunges the blade hard into the desk right between Junko's hands. The edge of the blade catches her thumb, slicing it effortlessly. She doesn't budge... she doesn't even blink. Brooke takes a step forward, looking down at the desk. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko... you're bleeding. Junko grips the blade and wriggles it free from the desk, then looks at her thumb. The cut is fine and shallow, like a nasty paper cut. Blood seeps from the wound, stopping at her knuckle. Junko presses the wound to her lips, leaving a slight red stain when she pulls it away. Endo falls back into his chair, exasperated. BOSS ENDO: I'm sorry, Junko-chan... I just thought-- ...maybe.
"James Raven... Tyler Cage... one more thing--"
BOSS ENDO: You should really get out of Japan, okay? He gestures toward her almost flippantly. BOSS ENDO: Go back to England or the United States He takes a deep breath and sighs. BOSS ENDO: Safer there... for both of you.
"--after we have defeated you with all of your
accolades and prestigious title history... along with your
injured limbs and your blood spilled, I ask that you leave
behind your damaged egos and the pieces of your broken
dreams--"
BOSS ENDO: It has been good to see you again, Junko-chan... not really, but that isn't polite to say, right? I think you should leave now... take your friend and the blade. It's dangerous to go alone. Junko looks at Brooke, seeing the confusion and uneasiness about her, then turns to Endo and nods, accepting his advice with grace. Her eyes focus on the black and white photograph behind his desk, seeing it clearly for the first time. She fights back tears. JUNKO SOUMA: Thank you, Endo-san.
"--they will belong to us now."
 It's drizzling rain again. The bleeding salaryman is gone. Junko looks up at the night sky. The purple and black hilt of the Wakizashi sticks out of her belt. Brooke trails behind her, visibly frustrated by the whole situation... all of it. She looks over her shoulder and sees the man with the tattooed face standing by the door, watching them leave. The line to get inside has dwindled significantly. Brooke shakes her head. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko... what was all of that? Junko pulls her hood up. JUNKO SOUMA: History. Junko turns away from Brooke and begins to walk away... until Brooke places her hand on Junko's shoulder, stopping her. Junko tenses up and looks back. Passers-by venture past them in every direction. Brooke's voice is firm... authoritative. BROOKE BLAKELY: Junko, I'm serious. Junko is silent for what feels like minutes. The way time moves so slowly inside OATH... sometimes it extends beyond those doors. Junko's voice is just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the city. JUNKO SOUMA: I am serious, too-- Junko points ahead, toward nothing in particular. JUNKO SOUMA: --more party this way. She shrugs Brooke's hand off of her shoulder and begins walking away. Brooke stands still for a moment, watching Junko disappear among the ever-shifting sea of civilians. A passer-by clips Brooke's shoulder on the way past, knocking her forward a step. Annoyed, she looks over her shoulder and sees that the tattooed man is gone from the entrance of OATH, then turns and realizes she doesn't see Junko at all anymore. Shaking her head, she grits her teeth and takes a deep breath-- --then moves forward. |