Post by Deleted on Jul 12, 2015 12:36:00 GMT -5
Here it is. The semifinals. Four teams down, just two to go. Let's be honest, the first quarterfinals match was less than stellar. Pair that with the fact that Kyzer himself along with three other men were out to eliminate us in the eliminator, no one gave us a fighting chance. Alas, the hope for a Kyzer/Drakz final match-up was rather swiftly ended when Kyzer and young Ante were defeated, two and out. Gotch and Axel were almost killed too, but look who survived. Look who's thriving. Now it's time to royally f*ck up the idea of how this tag team tournament is going to go. We're going to get a bloody rematch with Drakz and Zmey, we're going to defeat Nikki and Trace, and we're going to prove that Hollywood Unhinged 2.0 is the gang leader of the tag team division, every other team just kisses the ring.
Kamikaze
reckless or potentially self-destructive
F*ck gaijin bars. I learned that if you want to entertain yourself in Osaka, you have to get somewhat wild. Gaijin itself seemed just so derogatory when I first came over. My first, and only up to this point, time in Japan was partial movie, partial trip. We were filming this action movie, Quadruple Blood. The sleek buildings and urban life fit what they wanted, plus my main action scene was filmed in the rain and the background of the city skyline mixed with the rain hitting our fake blood covered faces was iconic for my career, but that's so far in the past I don't even like thinking about it. The filming was in Tokyo and where most of my memories are held, but then came Osaka. Once filming was over I felt like I could let go a bit, and let go I did.
The thing about gaijin bars is that it's all so Americanized. Or Europeanized. Whatever your point of view. That also bothered me. All of these bars were just so vague in their detachment from Japanese culture that you couldn't even tell what culture it was. It was a week spent in Osaka, and after day two I'd gotten sick of these places. So I ventured deeper into the city and for the first time in a while I felt wonder in a city. Tokyo is brilliant, I will always confirm this, but I'll be damned if there wasn't something special about Osaka. Tokyo was just massive, but Osaka on a comparative level was smaller. Still, lining the streets were light-up signs, a canal here and there, buildings just as sleek. I'd fallen in love with here.
The thing about Japan that many people forget is that there's other cities other than Tokyo. The only time anyone has ever even heard of a different city seems to be whenever there's a disaster. Quite honestly, that's all that's ever reported on in Japan over in the States though. I had this weird sense of pride that here I was, in a foreign city that you could probably define as a hidden treasure. All these horror stories of not speaking Japanese then getting lost failed to ring true. Having no true name notoriety in Japan (as opposed to having to talk with nearly every patron of the gaijin bars) gave me an anonymity. Despite the language difference, the bartender seemed to know exactly what I'd like. Drink after drink I'd test out for myself, giving a nod or thumbs-up. Those bartenders would then whip up with meticulous perfection. It was truly a sight to behold.
There's this backwards feeling that everywhere outside of Tokyo in Japan is all "land of the samurai" and of course ignorance breeds ignorance and that's the type of backwards thinking that sticks me with tour guides that try and keep us in these dull gaijin bars. The Japanese nightlife was a bit addicting, and that was the first source of problem. This Japanese gig was right around the time of my life where my personal life was going to sh*t somewhat quickly. I was still unhappy with my life in the States, my girlfriend, other personal issues like trying to be used by family. That one was really what started everything, once the family bond was broken I felt a bit lost and didn't know what to do. I'd always had my parents around and once they got too sick (and eventually passed) to watch out for me, the vultures swooped down. It doesn't justify how I treated the one girl who stood by my side and was probably in the same rut with how I treated her, but in my mind it did.
That first night I'd ever had out in Osaka was like the Garden of Eden, and I had free reign of the place. No forbidden fruits here, just a 22 year old kid doing whatever his heart desired. That's exactly what he did. It was beyond easy to go up to girls and talk to them, and eventually get them to come back to the hotel. Being a foreigner gave me this mystique, like I was some sort of mythical creature to behold. I was stopped for pictures in the street not because I was a movie star, but because I was American. Everyone certainly knew that all the Americans and Europeans stayed in "their" bars. My venturing out gave me this weird sort of moxie and made for some fantastic nights out drinking. I learned within the first night that Osaka shut down at one in the morning, so staying till close and having a good time was almost normal by the end.
At 22 and fresh out of college, shutting down these tiny Japanese bars was a walk in the park. I'd just come from being the life of the party at my college campus, which wasn't very hard. You'd expect every college in California to be a party school, but Sacramento State was about as straight laced as you'll find. I was already earmarked for success and had gotten roles, this was for my parents in all honesty. I did some stage productions and liberal arts courses, but I couldn't have cared less about school grades. There were only a few opportunities to party on campus every week, but you could've bet your ass that I was gonna be there to have a good time. Now, even just going on four years after, I realize that my liver needs a break, so I've been able to slow my roll. Still, younger me didn't know that.
I used that week out in Osaka as an escape. Escaping from the family, escape from reality, escape from Virginia, just an escape from real life. I didn't need to put up a front about anything or for anyone, I was never alone in Osaka, but I was all by myself. Things were fantastic in my mind, but soon enough I began to feel really guilty about my escapades out in the town. Fooling around behind Virginia's back was something I knew was wrong, and it was something I'd done and been doing for a decent while. As soon as I got home I kicked Virginia out and broke up with her, therein losing any contact with her. I stopped responding to any family at all. Hell, I missed the passing of my parents because I didn't have the guts to face any family. Osaka made me into a different man, it turned me into the man who I don't want to be. Now, years later, here I am once more as the redemption seeking man I always felt the need to be.
Flights into Japan at night are breathtaking. As you begin your descent underneath the clouds, perhaps with the orange, red, and pink sunset as a backdrop if you're lucky enough, you begin to see the incredible neon signs down on the ground below. As the sun continues to fade, more and more lights pop out at you. Any color you can imagine, green, red, orange, blue, welcoming you to the country like the beacon of a lighthouse welcoming a boat into dock. The sun soon fades into nothing and the pitch black sky seemingly brings out more lights. The bright lights of the city disappear as the descent is made making way for the spotlights surrounding the runway. It's a magical trip that's made even more wild by the fact that the Japanese men and women on the flight are seemingly indifferent to these sights 10,000 feet below them outside their window. Regardless, it doesn't temper my mood.
For me, these sights almost feel like home. The cab ride is just as incredible. It takes me down the illuminated streets of Osaka. The neon lights are even more welcoming when you're on the ground staring straight ahead at them. It's hard for your brain to process these sites, between the cab driver blazing down the streets whenever they're open for speedy driving and the overload of color. I'm able to see some signs, just a few containing any English writing at all. Just signs upon signs containing Japanese words and characters. I knew very little Japanese, just some from the bars I'd picked up. Enough to pick up girls when I was younger but that's about it.
The hotel's view was just as spectacular. Glowing lights in each direction you turn and street chatter and noises that are almost soothing once you sit back and listen to them. Still, nothing is better then going to experience it myself. It is, after all, why I wanted to get to Osaka in plenty of time ahead of schedule. I wanted to enjoy this opportunity to explore this city that had such a deep personal connection to me before I had to worry about beating Nikki Dean and Trace Demon in the biggest match of my career to this point. It's a direct product from my second opportunity and now I get to face another big star and a champion. I can't let this go. You only get so many second opportunities and this is the biggest one I've ever had, it's my turn to win the titles.
The hotel I was put up at isn't all that far away from where I like to venture to in Osaka. It's not as illuminated, even a bit dreary, but it's incredible just the same. The mingling with the locals, cultural differences and all that, it's something that you don't always get. Faraway lands were always what you dreamt of as a kid, and for me I knew it'd be just a matter of time before I got to one. Here I am now. I check my phone, still just 11, couple of hours before all these people on the streets will be back home sleeping and the streets become barren. That's almost a crazier sight than seeing everyone out and about, these streets deserted. Of course, there's still plenty of time until the city shuts down, the night of young.
I walk into one of the bars and the bartender immediately notices who I am. In his thick Japanese accent he acknowledges me.
"Jayson Garrett, a pleasure. I will make something special right away."
He diligently toils away behind the counter seemingly blocking out all the other guests at the counter to make a drink. The swiftness he makes these drinks with is something to behold. Pouring, scooping, constantly putting ice into glasses to keep them chilled, there's so much work done on just one drink that it's simply a miniature work of art by the time he's done and you don't even want to drink it. He hands me it.
"Arigato -"
I look at his chest for the name tag to address him personally.
"-Tarou."
He gave me a nod of satisfaction and went back to serving other customers. The bar is where I spent the next couple of hours having drinks, with glasses of water in-between alcoholic bevs, served to me in the heart of Osaka. It felt so familiar, it just seemed right. Still, there was a sense of regret in this evening and the time I spent in the bar. I knew this was a town that changed me forever. It was one that shaped who I was as a person and led me on the path that brought me right back here years later. I check the phone again, 12:30, the hours passed like drops of water in a bucket. The bartender interrupts my thoughts.
"I called my boss. We stay open late for you."
I smile in appreciation and nod back. Despite the now later hours, the bar seemed to clear out still at around one, a half-hour later. Only a few more tables had anyone seated there. They were all older gentlemen. Worn out faces, drinking sadly and slowly with no work tomorrow and nowhere else to go. It made me sad really, knowing these guys had no other purpose anymore. Just staying out late drinking. Then it hit me. Neither did I years ago, at least, that's what I thought in my mind. I didn't think I had any other reason to be here other than to go out and live on the town.
From night to night I hopped around different bars just living. Simply living, that was it. That's what these men did now. I felt I had no purpose, except I did. I had a purpose as an actor, I had a purpose as a boyfriend, I needed to have been there for my parents. All those things, I had reasons to be a better person. In turn, I wasn't. I was never able to keep my personal life in check and that's something that had only given me regret years later. This sorrowful thought causes me to order another straight whiskey, I don't have time to think like that. Not anymore, not now, not ever.
One by one the men stood up, tipped their caps or nodded, and left. Back home only to repeat the cycle all over again for who knows how long. This continued to the point where I remaining the only one in that bar. I checked my phone once again, three now. The bartender must've figured that I was checking the time and decided it was time to close shop.
"We must close now. Come back tomorrow, thank you."
I nod at him and place another generous tip on the counter for him. Figured he'd deserved it. I grab the coat I wore from the rack next to the front door and head back out in the dim Osaka streets on my way back to the hotel.
The thing I've learned over time in cities anywhere is that no matter how many flashing lights, it's still always a bit more different once night falls and everyone retreats into their houses. It doesn't help matters when you're alone on the streets of Japan with two dudes in suits tailing you. I noticed them about a block back or so, and while it's not a very long walk back to the hotel, it's much more nerving when you've got two dudes that are absolutely following you. I clutch my phone in my pocket, mind racing who to call. They could have weapons, they most likely do. I don't want to make it obvious. Then I realize something. I'm Jayson f*cking Garrett, I kick ass for a living. I'm in Japan only because that's literally my job, to beat the hell out of Trace and Nikki. Maybe the drinks were a bit of liquid courage, but it didn't matter because it was time to start the Osaka action early. I stopped, the scuffling movements of shoes on the pavement did too. I yelled behind me, still looking straight ahead.
"English?"
There was a brief pause because a deep voice replied in a very thick Japanese accent.
"You talk, we understand."
Fair enough.
"Alright, well, if you bungholes are gonna jump me, do it now."
I turn around, their faces seemed to be in shock of the foreigner actually decided to face them head on. One immediately charges, no weapons. Bit of a shock but hell, better for me. The other still seems to be processing things. I hit the charger flush in the nose and hear a pop, blood flow starts almost immediately. I kick him in the chest knocking him back a bit drawing an "OOPH!" sound from him. I use the separation to hit my point of my elbow at his eye and the man stumbles before dropping like a fly. By now, Baddie #2 has smartened up to the fact that he should do something in response. He begins to walk forward in a boxer's stance. I smirk. Cute.
He swings first, it's a god awful punch. Even Axel could throw a better punch in his comatose state. I can dodge it easily and give a hard punch of my own. I drill him straight in the mouth, a tooth bends back and snaps right out of place. The punch is good enough for a one-hit TKO and he falls to the concrete sidewalk face-down. I flip him over, the fall caused a decently sized gash, but nothing terrible. Both the men's chests sigh heavily in and out as they lay out. I turn back around and continue walking. What happens on Osaka's streets can stay on Osaka's streets.
Kamikaze
referring to a gale that destroyed a fleet of Mongols
It's rather fitting, the name of the show being "Divine Wind", the thing that saved Japan from invaders. This tag team tournament is full of random pairings and disillusioned teams that feel that no matter how much they hate each other they can work together. They are completely wrong. Hollywood Unhinged 2.0 is the divine wind of this tournament, saving the tag team titles from being held by a team that will explode the moment that trouble arises. These Mongols aren't invading though, they've already infiltrated into the WFWF. Come on, does anyone really think Demon and Nikki and actually maintain a stable partnership? Really? You want a team held together by popsicle sticks and hope to represent the tag team division too? If you're not by our side, I seriously question your idea of an honorable team. Our two quarterfinal matches were just the first step. That was our way of showing first and foremost, we will hang, bright lights don't scare Hollywood and psychopaths are nothing compared to Unhinged. The semifinal match is our chance to show off once again against another team like Kyzer and Ante. It doesn't matter how big of a star you were or how much potential you have. Championship titles you hold or reigns you had are all thrown out the window. On this one night in Osaka, it's our turn to prove our worth to the entire world en route to a date with destiny.
There are some guys sexist pigs who still see the women of the WFWF as subservient to the men. I'll be the first to refute that claim. Hell, we've had a woman as the world champion. That backwards thinking shouldn't even belong her. Nikki has obviously earned her keep here and even is the current holder of the National Championship (not for long, but that's not the current point). I do know that the Mrs. Dean is inferior to myself and my partner. That's not a knock on her, it couldn't be farther from one. I've already proved that there's plenty of guys here that are far inferior to me. It's just that her stepping into that ring and thinking she can hang with me and the man that's going to take her title like candy from a baby is beyond laughable. Now my partner has a beef with you, Nikki, right off the bat. You hold what's his. It deserves to be his. It's only a matter of time until he can call it his. I have an issue with you too. You see, there's this group called the SOS that you and your husband, along with some others, are involved with. Time after time I ended up looking at the lights at their hands. Josh, Penny, Dave, all them have scored victories over me. Now Nikki. No. No one else. Three is enough. Some see Nikki and Trace getting the belts after her husband had to vacate the titles along with Dave as fitting. That's not what I say. DJS and I getting the titles? That's sweet justice.
Time to hop back in the time machine. At the end of last year, the WFWF held their award banquet. I won nothing, but I presented the award for "Heel of the Year." The winner was none other than Trace Demon. While up there he delivered a passionate speech and everyone was listening intently and no one paid any more attention to the presenter now in the background. One day I knew we'd meet and I'd get my opportunity to show that in any given moment, at any given time, treating me as an afterthought should never happen. Trace is a savvy guy, any wrestler who can gain even a measure of power in the front office while he's still wrestling earns that title. If Trace is as savvy as everyone believes and that he thinks he should immediately recognize what I am exactly. I'm only beginning my ascent taking over peaks that he once had conquered. That might rile Trace up but it's simply the truth. When I was up there on that stage presenting the award, I noticed something else though. I saw that fire in his eyes, the power in his voice, everything that made him such an evil man I saw. I know it's still there. He can play nice with Nikki all he wants, but I've been in Trace's mind before. If the going gets rough Trace can and will snap at a moment's notice. I know it's there in him. The only question is how soon will we see it. I can acknowledge that Trace is a great here, but Kyzer was a great, and he fell to us. The semis are another stage, but the finals will be our encore.
One step remains. One more match separates myself and DJS from the ultimate tag team stage. A date with the Dragon and the Champion. That final step is always the most difficult. Two champions, one current and one former, stand in the way. It's not just a matter of will, it's a matter of who the best team in that ring in Osaka will be. It's going to be whoever deserves it the most. This tag team tournament has been an opportunity I've craved for this whole year. After my matches for the world title and with Drakz, I focused more on the tag team division and trying to get them back. These random pairings of the tournament has given me a chance to face the tippy top of quality wrestlers on this planet. It's my turn to prove to Trace Demon that there should be some doubt in his mind at his ability. It's my turn to show Nikki Dean that she should stick to being in the SOS's shadow. This is going to be my turn to get revenge on Zmey and Drakz. Hollywood Unhinged 2.0 is going to war. It's not one that's bigger than us, it's ours to win.
6 A.M., inside the Kurosawa-kai Headquarters in Osaka
Katashi Kurosawa sits at his table inside his yakuza's headquarter. The room is underneath a sushi bar he still operates for additional money. Katashi is still a relatively young man, approaching his 40th birthday this upcoming year. His jet black hair is kept at a medium length, he sports a ruffled suit that is wrinkled and his bloodshot eyes, a product of the cocaine he'd been using throughout the evening. He sits at a metal table, splattered with the white powdery substance. Born into a wealthy family, Katashi almost immediately was connected in the underground crime scene, for his dad had long-running ties with not just one but several of the local yakuza groups. He was bred for this life, and it became a reality when he entered the world of importing and exporting drugs. He didn't hesitate to turn it into a full-fledged yakuza operation.
Kurosawa-kai is just under a year old, the sushi bar upstairs has been operating for around the same time. Katashi, with his connections, was able to gain some territory in Osaka and soon after spread into Tokyo. Despite that, his group of men was rather limited, just the two bodyguards beside him and ten men, three in Osaka, five in Tokyo, and two more in Yokohama. His best two were in Yokohama, he has high hopes of turning it into a hotbed for his crime syndicate. At points over the past year the number had been much higher, nearing 500 in fact. This is when he got most of his territory in Japan and even had a good amount of Osaka in his hands. Then his group was busted huge a month ago. His right-hand man told on nearly all the grunts, but refused to give up Katashi's spot. This was all that mattered to Katashi, but the stress of losing men by the dozen took its toll on him. Drug use became more frequent, outbursts happened more often, and that continues to today.
The room he sits in is rather dark, the first light of day peeks through the lone window above his head. In all four corners of room sits so much cocaine Scarface himself would be shocked. Katashi rubs his bloodshot eyes and pulls out a lighter from his suit coat pocket. He reaches out his arm and one of the bodyguards hands him a Colombian cigar. He'd gotten the 20-pack of cigars as a "thank you" for being such a great buyer. He lights the cigar and has a puff. Smoke fills the stale air and immediately fills the room. Little by little he finishes the cigar till it turns into a nub and he throws it into the corner with his product. It's retrieved by his closest bodyguard and tossed into a garbage can.
The two men who patrolled the streets and fought with Jayson Garrett shuffle into the room, heads facing the floor. One man has a heavily swollen eye and dried blood on his hands from a broken nose, the other a cut above the eye and a bottom front tooth missing. Katashi is first to speak in harsh Japanese.
"What the f*ck happened?"
"Sir, a man, he fought back at us."
"We did what we could to keep him at bay."
Katashi's face contorts and he snaps right back at them.
"SHUT UP! No excuses! Do you know who that was?! Jayson Garrett! Wrestler, American actor. Do you know how I know this?"
The men shake their heads no. Katashi doesn't seem to care. This is an outburst everyone has grown accustomed to.
"I know this because Tarou told me while working he walked into his bar. Not only that but he TOLD YOU TWO WHERE HE WOULD BE EXACTLY. So what do you do? F*ck it up! Like always!"
"Sir, we tried -"
"NO EXCUSES I SAID."
The booming voice bounces around the room. The words seem to linger over the men like Katashi's cigar smoke.
"Do you realize what that meant? We could've held Jayson Garrett hostage for BILLIONS of yen. This would have been proof! Proof in our abilities. The entire country of Japan would be shaking in their boots at the might of 13 men. The whole WORLD would know who we are. Japanese police would be powerless to us. Recruiting would shoot through the damn roof! Do you want us to get our power, or not?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well then show some f*cking competence."
Katashi is now shaking. Partially because of rage, partially because the amount of drugs he'd used. He continues on.
"Here's what goes on. Jayson will be in Tokyo soon. You two will come with me to Tokyo so I can personally make sure we take Jayson into our hands. Bring him to Tokyo headquarters, hold him there, set the price at six billion yen. Then, we wait until they kneel before our demands. We need preparation. No sleeping until we get this plan done."
He pulls out two cloth swatches and unravels them showing two pieces of fingers that match up with the two men's missing portions.
"These from your initiation."
The "initiation" he spoke of was the two men having to commit the act of yubitsume. While usually used as a punishment, Katashi used it as an initiation method for his men to prove they were loyal to him.
"This is our welcome gift for Jayson Garrett. Not just for Japan, this is what we give to tell him, "Welcome Kurosawa-kai territory.""