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Chips. "I do not want this life anymore." Junko turns an unopened pack of cigarettes over in her hand, looking it over with curious eyes before stuffing it into her bag and zipping it shut. The sun beats down on her pale shoulders, decorated with pink scars... some of them running in fine zig-zag patterns, the many results of being thrown through glass during her excursion to the United States... others cover more ground, appearing abrasive to the touch. Two months in a row of competing in matches with fire-related stipulations will do that to you. These badges of honor, souvenirs of her journey toward becoming a number one deathmatch idol, peek from beneath the straps of her black tank top or reach up from underneath the waistline of her blue athletic shorts. "No matter what I do... no matter who I meet or who makes a point to call me their friend... I have only one constant in this life that I have chosen... pain." She looks out across the playground, vacant... the equipment and her eyes. She takes a drink from the bottle of Imperial and feels her face become warm... full. She shifts, seated at a picnic table at the edge of the play area, wood chips separated from gravel by a wooden barrier that's maybe half a foot off the ground. She thinks about her journey to this point, her excursion to the United States, her time in Thunder Pro Wrestling and CU:LT... her return to Intense International Wrestling... and the scars she brought back with her. "My comeback has not been an easy one... but I suppose that is the problem with comebacks, yes? No one ever said they are supposed to be easy. If they were... they would be called something else. There would simply be no such thing as a comeback story." Setting the bottle down, she allows her fingertips to trace along the scar on her knee... unlike the ones on her back which fill her with pride, this one brings her shame. It reminds her of the time she let Hideo Chiba down... when she overestimated her ability in the ring and almost cost herself everything-- "My name is Junko Souma." --no. "I began training to become a number one professional wrestler when I was sixteen years old." She did cost herself everything. "I was only eighteen years old... moments away from completing my sixth professional match when--" Nothing has been the same ever since. "--I almost lost it all." The way back. "This is it, okay? This is the beginning of the end of the beginning. It is time to stop looking back... it is time to stop worrying about the past." On the table next to her, there's a box. It's a familiar box, one she's been seen with before. Inside it, the remains of Hideo Chiba, her mentor, silently rest in ash. "For so long, since the beginning of my career, I have held on to the past... to the things that happened to me as a young girl, when Kota Amasaki held me captive in his underground idol ring. That was before Hideo Chiba rescued me and helped me realize my dream--" She picks up the bottle and takes another drink before setting it down and caressing the box next to her, a loving gesture. "--but he didn't, did he? No. He lived to see me fail... he lived to see me injured... to see Solace Tatum defeat me, and I was still recovering, unable to walk, when he passed away in that homeless shelter on Christmas Day... he never got to see me realize my dream." She pulls her hand away from the box as if she suddenly realizes she's not worthy of touching it. She stands and averts her eyes, looking out across the playground and feeling stupid, like a child, for even entertaining the idea of crossing the wooden barrier into the wood chips and sitting on one of the swings. She feels stupid... embarrassed, even... so she doesn't. "I haven't gotten to see it either." A tear rolls down her cheek. "You always told me that I didn't have what it takes to make it in the business of professional wrestling... for the longest time, I thought you were being harsh on purpose, trying to toughen me up so that I would train more, fight harder... truly become the best that I can be." Looking down at her hand, she realizes she unconsciously picked up the bottle and brought it to the edge of the play area with her. She unscrews the cap and takes another drink. "This excursion to the United States... it has not gone well for me. I have lost. I have lost a lot, Chiba-san. I have begun to wonder if I am any good. I fear that--" Another drink and now the bottle is empty. "--maybe I am no good at all." She drops the bottle on the ground next to her feet. The gravel crunches beneath her sneakers as she shifts her weight, clenching both fists at her sides. "I returned to Intense International Wrestling again... for the third time. I have come here, once and for all, to end it... to put my past behind me." Tears well up in her eyes. "This is the place you brought me. When we were in danger, under threat of death by Boss Sato and his men, you brought me to Bob Mitchell and Osh Vaughan... and you told them that I would be a big star, even though you knew that I wouldn't... even though you knew that I was a worthless rookie." She bites her bottom lip, fighting to keep the tears at bay as memories of her first time in Intense International Wrestling, the First Class brand, come rushing back to her. "I did my best but-- ...it wasn't enough." The sun begins to set and friscalating dusklight penetrates the gaps between the gnarled branches of trees which surround the playground. "Now I am back... on my own this time. I have made a name for myself now, Chiba-san, and I have earned a shot at the IIW Women's World Championship. I remember the first time I stepped foot in an IIW ring... I remember thinking that one day I would get to set foot in the ring with Moira Arches, she was the champion then... and that I would do my best, win or lose. Those days are gone now. There have been many champions since then... Aaliyah Landerson, Donna DiFalco, Ada Pierce, Beckett Marisol... all great fighters. But someone else is champion now, a woman who I have already defeated--" The light flickers in her dark, lifeless eyes. "--Jasmine Raye." Junko's silver-blue hair moves along with a gentle breeze. She lets the warm air wash over her. It feels good on her skin. "We have to team-up now... okay. I know that she doesn't like me. I know that she is threatened by me since I defeated her before... that is how I earned my title match, after all. But that is okay. She was honest with me during our press conference. She told me the truth about myself... and she was honest in her intentions. I know where she stands, good or bad. I know that I will have to watch my back, which is an advantage I did not have when teaming with Brooke Blakely in Thunder Pro Wrestling." She turns away from the playground and walks back toward the picnic table. A thin sheet of plastic, a liner, peeks out from underneath the box lid. "Aria Knight and Beckett Marisol are competent, dangerous fighters. I have interacted with Aria Knight before and those interactions were... complicated... meanwhile, Beckett Marisol has defeated me twice, once in Miracle Galaxy Pro... again in Intense International Wrestling. Defeating them means... a lot to me." The plastic makes a light crinkling sound in the breeze. "Putting them behind me is a step in the right direction... and once they have been defeated, I can focus on my true goal... the reason I'm here--" She places her knee on the cracked, wooden bench, reaching over and picking up her bag, unzipping it and then sliding the box closer to her. "--becoming the IIW Women's World Champion." She picks up the box and slides it into the bag. "It was the first goal I set for myself when I entered the business of professional wrestling." She zips it shut. "It was a goal I never achieved... and I can't move forward, I can't leave the past behind me, until I do." She picks up the backpack and places it over her shoulder. She turns to face the sunset once again, allowing the dancing light to wash over her. "Help me, Jasmine Raye." She takes a breath, then exhales deeply. "This is my last chance."
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