Post by emmanuelle on Feb 17, 2022 23:59:09 GMT -5
February 14
Los Angeles International Airport.
Emmy actually hated to do this. She wanted to be in Brazil to help Sena prepare for his pay-per-view debut. It was a big deal for the kid, to be sure. Both of them were standing near gates that would take them to respective places: him on his way to South America and her on the way to Pittsburgh, the site of her first defense of the Grand Championship. She knew that retaining the Championship would be much more difficult than winning it outright, especially since she would be facing the man who she took it from. There was hesitation in Sena’s eyes as he looked towards the gate. Emmy couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. She berated him a lot and rated his wrestling far worse than she should, but she really respected and appreciated the younger man. He came up through the same system as she had but managed to make it out without some of her and her mentor’s vices.
“Are you sure about this? I’ve never been to Rio before. I’ve never left the country on my own!”
“You know Carlos is going to meet you down there, right? He’s going to help you prep for the Clash like…well…only Carlos can. I’ll make my way there as soon as my match is over, win or lose. You’ll be fine and you’ll be ready.”
“What about you? Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
“I would prefer to be by myself in all honesty. I know what this match is going to entail and I need to be one hundred percent focused on getting the victory, especially since they made it two out of three falls. Beating someone like him is a tough enough challenge but to do it twice in one night is going to be a pretty big pain in the ass.”
The young man nodded in agreement. Having had his first match against one of Arata’s cronies in Jack Daito, he knew all about Golden Dawn and the problems they represented for Emmy. As announcements blared over the loudspeakers about departure times, they knew they had to head off in opposite directions.
“Come to Brazil with the Grand Championship. After I win the Clash of the Titans, we’ll all have one massive party in Rio!”
With a smirk, Emmy just nodded her head and gave him a quick slap on the shoulder before turning and walking away. She had already called Tara to check on her and make sure that she was alright after a recent scare. With her friends taken care of for the time being, now she could completely focus on him. She never understood why there was such a relationship of hatred between them. While she was certainly never respectful towards him on arrival, as time went on she appreciated him more and more as an opponent every time she faced him. His agility, his determination, his technical prowess. Every bit of his fighting spirit had been seared into soul and she responded with full force. Even so, it seemed to drift more and more towards a feeling of pure hatred whenever his name came up. She had managed to befriend at least a few of the people that she had come across in her travels as a wrestler. Tara, Sabertooth, Myo, even various members of the Big Drip and countless others that she had fought against on her travels.
Arata was a different matter. Every time she stepped in the ring with him, she only felt her disdain grow. She tried to communicate with him in a respectful way (or as respectful as Emmy could be with just about anyone in truth) but nothing seemed to get through. Nothing ever seemed to earn his respect. Maybe that’s the thing that wounded her so badly, that frustrated her so much. As much as she craved the limelight and all the excesses that came along with it, at the core of it all was that she felt disrespected. That was why when the match was made she insisted that the stipulation would be two falls out of three. She wanted to leave absolutely no doubt as to who deserved to be holding the Grand Championship. She wanted to make sure that there would be no excuses, no flukes, nothing that Arata or anyone else could hold over her.
As she settled in for her flight in First Class and settled in for a bit, she drifted off to sleep.
No matter where I go in my career, it seems like Arata’s destined to be intertwined in my business. From my beef with his Golden Dawn, to our wars in WrestleWorld, to the clash that we just had for the Grand Championship in January. I’ve got plenty of bumps and bruises on my pretty little body, scars physically and emotionally that will never leave me. Every time I step into the ring with this man, I can feel my career shortening from all the punishment. I’ve wrestled him three times now and twice I was able to win. Every match that we’ve had has had massive significance, not just in terms of titles but to what they mean to me personally. Arata Asakura is one of the names I always hear about in locker rooms everywhere I go from Japan to Bucksnort, Tennessee. He’s respected, feared even by a lot of his peers.
Except me.
Arata’s always been a little naive when dealing with me it feels like to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m smaller, younger, a woman or what, but you can tell by how he operates. Any time we’ve wrestled, he makes it like he’s appearing to lecture me in the ring. He’s so assured in what he’s doing, so confident in his way of thinking that he makes mistakes over and over and over again. But, instead of owning up to them and just admitting not being the better person on the night, he goes on making excuses. He refuses to hold himself accountable and simply realize that he’s not better.
I struggled with that for a long time. But coming here to Project Honor helped me with that. I started to own up to my shit more and more. When I lost to Cadillac Jackson my second match here, I realized that I needed to step my game up. Losing to Tara in that Clash for the Cup main event shattered me, especially after losing to the same man I will now be facing for the Grand Championship in another tournament final that very same week. I wanted to blame any and everything for a while. I had too many matches, I wasn’t getting enough rest. But I didn’t. I sucked it up and went for it…and I got it. No one expected me to even be in contention for the Grand Championship, a championship held by people like Ozymandias and Dickie Watson among others. I was mired in a losing streak, had a scare with my ankle, and didn’t have anything to my name in regard to championships.
But I took yours, Arata.
I looked at myself in the mirror long and hard after I lost to you that day. I realized that I needed to not only train harder and get even more ruthless in the ring but I needed to make sure that the next time I had an opportunity come my way I made it count. Will you be able to say the same?
Not if I have my way, dickhead.
February 15
Pittsburgh, PA
Emmy had checked into her hotel after a lengthy flight and immediately got up the next morning to give her body a light workout. She was very sure that Arata would be prepared and so would she. Her focus, however, wouldn’t be physically. She was more than confident that she would be prepared on that front. She had been working hard in the gym, breaking poor Sena to the point that he had to beg her to stop some of their more intense weightlifting and cardio sessions. Her focus would be more mentally than anything else. She had to reconcile that while this match was extremely personal to her, she had to take at least some of the edge off when it came to planning. It would be easy to just go to the ring and fly at The Golden Dragon with all the rage and aggression of a wild animal, but that would simply play into his hands. Why else would he blindside her and goad her into fights? Why else would he publicly berate her and disrespect her at any opportunity? Sure, he probably felt some of those things that he was saying were true, but he wanted to make sure that Emmy would get caught up in all of that instead of focusing on the task at hand. It was the mistake that she made in WrestleWorld…and it was the mistake she managed to avoid when facing him for the title the first time in Project: Honor. She had been studying Arata closely by watching their previous encounters on a tablet she kept for the purpose of analyzing and preparing for opponents but on this day she actually was evaluating herself as well. In each match that they had she noticed that her focus and energy improved every time while her mistakes grew smaller and smaller. She was so focused on her preparation that she didn’t notice someone clearing their throat before deciding to sit next to her in the hotel lobby.
“Excuse me.”
Emmy didn’t bother to look up from her studying. She knew who it was. The voice was a little deeper than most women’s but still had a charming, feminine quality to it. She could also recognize one of those sweaters from anywhere. There was only one woman she knew who dressed quite as conservatively out in public.
“What made you come out here?”
“I heard through a little birdie that you would be in town a few days before the show and wanted to come. I know that you have a lot on your mind. Wrestling him is never easy for you.”
“Sonya, you didn’t have to come here, you know? I would have been very much content to just go this alone. It’s not your fight.”
“You know that’s not how we operate. You gave me my big break in America, remember? It’s only appropriate that I make sure that you’re okay. You’re not only my benefactor but a trusted friend.”
“Heh. A friend that plucked you out of your dream of wrestling in Japan to watch my back here. A friend that put you in harm’s way to get where I wanted to go, not giving a second thought to how you felt about it. Honestly, I’ve been a pretty shitty friend and I want to apologize to you for that.”
The two of them were silent for a while, Emmy distracted by watching the very first match between herself and Arata from over a year prior. Her hair was a bit longer then and so was her arrogant streak. Sonya on the other hand simply stared off into space for a moment before plopping back against the couch, staring up at the hotel’s chandeliers.
“You’ve changed. In a lot of ways. When I first met you, you very much still hated wrestling. You weren’t as emotionally mature and grounded as you are now. You’ve exhibited a lot more passion for wrestling than you’ve cared to show before. You’ve even taken on a ‘Young Lion’, which surprised me. Where is he, by the way? I figured he would be with you.”
“The little birdie that told you I would be here didn’t tell you that he’s in Brazil getting ready for his own big fight? He’s made his debut in OWA and now he has his own shit to shovel. I plan on going down there to help him get ready but my business comes first, obviously.”
“Obviously. Emmanuelle the Mentor does have an interesting ring to it. Has he ever been to Brazil before?”
“Nope. But he’s got someone there that I’ve trusted to help him get ready for his big match. Carlos happened to be on vacation there so he’ll be staying with him.”
Sonya looked absolutely perplexed by what she had just heard. While she didn’t know Carlos Rosso permanently, tales of the man’s temper, absurd cocaine habit, womanizing ways and outright sadistic tendencies made her worry instantly if Sena was in good hands. Emmy chuckled to herself as if she could sense her friend’s misgivings without even looking at her.
“Carlos trained him too, so he’s already well aware of how crazy the old fart is. He’ll be fine.”
Sonya nodded after that, at least for the moment convinced that perhaps the kid would be fine.
“Alright. There is something that I wanted to talk to you about though. You know that Arata will stop at nothing to get in your head. Your emotions are part of what makes you great in the ring, but be careful that you control them. Everything that he does will be designed to get a reaction out of you, much like when you goaded him when you faced him for the Shogun Championship. In a lot of ways, your rivalry with him has come full circle. What you have to understand now is that after his humiliation of losing another title to you, he’ll be absolutely merciless until he reclaims it. Even though you may win this match, I don’t think he’s going to stop. He’s going to keep coming for you until he gets it back or you cripple him.”
For the first time, Emmy looked up from what she was watching on the screen. The match on her screen had ended and she had tossed her little tablet to the side. It was such a damn shame Sonya had absolutely zero interest in her because the woman was definitely Emmy’s type: Tall, athletic, beautiful, intelligent. She was always giving her advice, much needed advice at that. She saw things sometimes that Emmy wouldn’t want to admit or was just too focused on other things to actually see on her own.
“....I understand that. You know what I want to do with this Grand Championship, right? You know all the things that I’m working on doing and all the effort that I’ve put into trying to make whatever I get my hands on worthwhile. I know he’s angry about losing the title and I know he’ll do anything to get it back. But, I need this closure. I need to finally get him and this rivalry behind me, at least for a little while. There are so many interesting up and comers that I want to face, that I want to defend that belt against. I can’t do that if I can’t get him out of the way. Sonya, we go back a while. Why do you think that Arata hates me the way he does? As much as I try to offer him respect, he doesn’t have any for me. Am I that much of a bitch?”
“Emmy, you stalked and harassed the man on Social Media. You revived two of his arch nemeses from the dead, literally, just to stick it to him after the two of you had cooperated to win a match together. You’ve beaten him for Championships not once but twice. You assaulted some of his Golden Dawn trainees when that match with Sena and Jack Daito went sideways. Almost every time Arata thinks he’s got something going you upstage him. You’ve bashed his fashion sense, his haircut, and I think you almost sent him to the hospital in that first match with the body shot you threw that weakened him for the rest of the match. Yes, I think you have been that much of a bitch.”
Emmy sat there a bit dumbfounded before breaking out into a laugh. Sonya, usually more reserved with her laughter, did manage a big smile before giving off a light giggle. With that, the pair of friends, Champion and bodyguard got up from the couch and headed towards the elevator. There would be more time for studying, more time for preparation. For now though, Emmy was content to spend at least a little of this time just being a friend…something that she had been neglecting for a while now.
“So, what floor are you staying on? What kind of room do you have?”
“Hmm…just a basic single. I don’t need anything extra.”
“Bullshit! You’re going to spend the next couple of nights in my suite. Plenty of room, spa treatments, private dining, complimentary room service. You’re gonna love it.”
“I’ve already paid for my own room, Emmy. Thank you but I don’t want to impose.”
“Well, I’M going to impose. C’mon! You flew out here to annoy me. Well, I’m gonna annoy you before you go back to Japan!”
As I started out in this business, there was something that my trainer Carlos taught me that stuck with me for a long, long time: You can make friends in this business or you can make money. You usually can’t make both. Now that I’ve spent some time in wrestling, in a lot of ways I have to disagree with that statement. Of course the business has it’s parasites, two-bit assholes and losers. There are people who will smile in your face one moment then absolutely try to screw you over when they have the slightest opportunity to do so. But, as I open myself up more and more to the wrestling world, I’m finding out that this isn’t the case, Arata. When I first started in this business, I couldn’t even share a locker room with people. I was top of the line! I had to have first class everything, I didn’t want to share anything with anyone. Maybe it was my days as a hostess that kinda turned me off to people. Maybe it was being an athlete at a college where people constantly tried to kiss your ass to get something out of you. I don’t know. What I do know is that being in this industry has made me a little more capable of forming friendships.
Except with you.
I never started out loving this sport, but from the very beginning it started to love me. My fast start, my title wins, everything that I was able to achieve in two years time. But ironically enough it wasn’t until I started losing when I figured out how much the wrestling world loved me. Myojin was always there to listen to me when I was having dips in confidence in myself. Even your student Hana Nakajima and I have, on occasion, been able to say some pleasant things about each other and if not get along at least be respectful. Indy Darling himself is probably one of the main reasons I didn’t give up. He, of all people, advocated for me to be in that tournament held to honor his father. When I was at one of my lowest points, the night of that final, he was kind enough to try to lift my spirits. There was a point where I was going to just leave wrestling altogether. I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with, even with my lifestyle. But I kept going. I started to listen more to the people in the locker room instead of looking down at them. I started taking my training even more seriously than I did before. I started to get to know the people I would stand across the ring from.
I started to finally love wrestling back.
Even with all the bumps and bruises. Even with people like you. I have my flaws, in and out of the ring. Everyone who has followed my career knows that well enough. I’m a womanizing braggart, a cocky young thing who has an eye for everything that glitters or looks pretty. Everyone sees that part of Emmanuelle. They see the costumes, the funny promos, the flashy moves in the ring.
That doesn't mean they know who the hell Emmanuelle Alicia Dinardo is.
I’m a natural athlete, but I had to endure hell just to make it here. When I first got into the business as a trainee, who do you think Carlos tried to break first? It wasn’t the big amateur wrestlers or cocky football players. It was me. Same thing when I started wrestling in California, hitting the towns all over the place. Reseda, Anaheim, Long Beach, Riverside, Sacramento. All the veterans tried to run me out of the sport. I was too stuck up. I was too pretty.
BUT HERE. I. AM.
You want to play games and sneak attack me? Cool. You want to keep addressing me and behaving like I’m someone new who doesn’t know how any of this shit goes? Fine. But there is one thing that I think you know but you’re doing your absolute best to hide: my title is on the line when we meet at The Crowning II…but so is your reputation. I’ve heard you preach your fucking head off about how superior you are, how you’re the gaijin killer and how you’re going to rule this and win that. You’ve done all this work to get where you are, Self Made Man, but what happens when you lose ANOTHER title match to a little ‘hafu’ like me, huh? You’re the one with the history of being on top wherever you’ve been. You’re the one who was holding so much gold at one point you were like a walking, talking Fort Knox.
You were expected to beat me three times before…you only did it once. The whole time since you’ve lost the Grand Championship I’ve heard nothing but excuse after excuse after excuse. At least when you lost the Shogun Championship to me, you at least pretended to be civil and gracious. When you lost this title, you proceeded to cry like a baby needing to be burped or changed. You couldn’t accept your defeat like a real man. I don’t know why that is. You’ve always had this weird obsession with me like I’m some sort of student of yours, that I’ve done nothing but ape your swagger. While it’s definitely true that I had the doors opened for me and that I was fast-tracked into companies a lot faster than I deserved to be, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve busted my ass to make it to this position!
And I will work even harder to stay here.
While I’m not perfect, the woman that you faced for the King of the World Crown is gone. The woman that you wrestled for the Shogun Championship has matured. You’ve gotten something in your head like you know me, like you’re someone that I look up to. At The Crowning, I’m going to show you that you’ve only wrestled Emmanuelle. You haven’t met Emmanuelle Alicia Dinardo yet. And there is one cardinal rule when it comes to her:
Don’t fuck with her.
This match is about more than a championship to me. It’s about more than settling our rivalry for good. It’s about showing you that I don’t need your condescending “nurturing touch” anymore. I’ve grown to love this business and this company more than almost anything else on this earth. I was willing to do whatever I deemed necessary to relieve you of this beautiful title belt. If I were you, I would start trying to build a pretty vivid picture of what I would do to keep it. Want some examples? I would probably hit my own goddamn father with a Palisades Bomber if it meant keeping it….then I would hit your wife with one just to make sure.
I don’t need you anymore, Arata.
I never fucking did.
February 16
Pittsburgh, PA
Technology was a wonderful thing. She didn’t care much for Iphones but FaceTime was clutch in situations like these. With it, she could keep up with Sena and his preparations for the Clash of the Titans. There were rumors circulating that a certain muscular blonde half-Japanese woman would be entering a match herself, but she kept quiet as to her intentions. The more that she kept herself busy with ventures outside of her two main companies, the more she wanted to do these things as a surprise. When journalists came up to her to ask about the situation, she wouldn’t confirm or deny. The poor kid was dressed in a seat-drenched white T-shirt and gym shorts. She could tell from his haggard appearance and from the glum look in his eyes that Carlos probably went overboard with his Battle Royale training.
“The old man kicked your ass, didn’t he?”
“Not even just him. He brought in all these jujitsu and capoeira fighters and stuff to the gym here. He made me spar with all of them and try to throw them over the ropes. It….sucked.”
“Crazy fucker. He knows you have that match coming up in, what, about ten days? He’s going to KILL you doing all of this crap.”
“But you know what is the worst part about it? Every day he hits me with the same-”
“I know, I know. ‘I won this big battle royal in the Rose Bowl with 100,000 people watching and I overcame the odds after being one of the people who stayed in there the longest! If you can survive this, you can survive a battle royal goddamn it!’ I know the routine, he did the same thing with me for fun. You’ll make it.”
“Hey, how are you doing though? I heard that there was some serious funny business with your friend Tara and how she may have been assaulted or something. Just some rumors, nothing that I know for sure.
“I don’t know either. I’m trying to not get too involved, you know? When I heard about what happened I just made sure that she got the rest that the doctors were telling her to, I kept in contact with her kid as best as I could. Sonya’s here, you know?”
“The tall chick who helps you out in WrestleWorld?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never had a chance to meet her. Maybe after you’re done in Pittsburgh I can….SHIT! SHIT!”
Emmy was startled for a moment as the phone was dropped on the floor with a loud clattering. For a few minutes it was pointed up towards the lights of the gym but she could just hear the commotion and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that familiar voice with the bit of Southern drawl that came out when a certain former trainer was pissed off.
“SENA YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKA! I CAN'T LEAVE YO PUNK ASS ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOU SNEAK OFF TRYING TO DUCK WORKOUTS! I DONT GIVE A FUCK WHEN THE CLASH IS, YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR PUNK ASS READY! I WILL MAKE YOU TRAIN TO THE POINT YOU CANT EVEN MOVE! I WILL MAKE YOU DO UP-DOWNS UNTIL YOU’RE SO SICK YOU WILL SHIT ON YOURSELF! HINDU SQUATS! NOW! AND DON’T STOP UNTIL I TELL YOU TO, MOTHERFUCKA! I WILL BEAT YOUR DAMN HEAD IN IF YOU MISS COUNT! DO IT NOW! WHO THE FUCK IS THIS ON THE PHONE ANYWAY!? SOME BRAZILIAN BIG BOOTY BITCH! YOU TOO YOUNG AND TOO STUPID TO HANDLE SOME ASS LIKE THAT! LEMME….”
Carlos saw who was actually on the call with Sena and his intentions to flirt immediately were shot down. Emmy couldn’t help but chuckle at his disappointment.
“Good afternoon, Carlos.”
“Good afternoon, Emmy. Now why are you calling this kid and wasting his time, don’t you know I’m trying to prep him for his next match? He’s never been anything like it and he thinks this shit is a game! He needs to be concentrating!”
“He needs to be resting and talking strategy with you. Not nearly dying as you run him through some kind of Bloodsport Kumite bullshit.”
“Fine. I won’t kill him. Today. After he’s given me…..hmmm….a couple of hundred Hindu squats, I’ll let him rest and then we’ll go out on the town to get something to eat. How’s that?”
“That’s fine.”
“Good. And what’s with you? When I first sent the kid to ya, You were acting like you didn’t want anything to do with him. Are you getting sweet on Sena? I mean I heard you let him move into your place for a little while until he gets on his feet. Is there something happening between you two that I need to know- HEY….I DON’T REMEMBER ASKING YOU A GODDAMN THING…KEEP HITTING THOSE SQUATS!”
Carlos had turned his attention back towards Sena, who was trying to interject in the conversation but was immediately shot down. Now that he was done scolding one protege, he turned his attention back to another with a sly grin. Emmy knew what he was implying and he was doing it mainly to get a rise out of her. She didn’t take the bait however. Keeping calm, she spoke softly to him, smiling as sweetly as her temper would allow.
“You know that I wouldn’t look at Sena like that. I like the same type of bitches you like, remember?”
“Ohhhhhh…right. Anyway, I know you got a big match coming up. You straight? Not THAT kind of straight. You good to go?”
“I’m fine. I’ve been thinking a lot about this match you know? He’s good, really fucking good, Arata.”
“I know. I mixed it up with him a little bit back in the day. He’s a bonafide bad motherfucker. But you’ve already beaten him twice already. And he knows it too. He’s going to throw everything at you about how you’re not ready for the moment. How you’ve ridden on his coattails. How you cheated at Unbreakable Resolution, which I think is kinda hilarious considering some of the bullshit he’s pulled of late in various places. You know what you’re up against and you know you can stand up to it. The thing with you is what it always is: your mentality.”
“I know. And I’m not shying away from how important this match is. I’m just…frustrated, you know?”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel like he respects me, like at all. He just sees me as just another person on the roster who is underneath him. I can’t ever be his equal, he just sees me as one of his little Golden Dawn subordinates.”
“........Why do you fucking care what he sees you as?”
“........................”
“.......I get it. Down in your subconscious you respect him. As much as you want to hate him, a little bit of you that you keep locked up inside respects the hell out of him still and you don’t want to push that to the side. My advice to you? Let that shit go. You know how this dude is. He’s not coming to the ring to play nice. And since you were willing to go a little further the last time to get that belt off of him, you know he’s gonna go the extra mile just to do you in this time.”
“I get it”
“Good. You can do this. You’ve been wrestling dudes ever since you came up through my dojo. You’ve seen everything that this man has to offer three times already and you’ve turned him back twice. If he wants to get tough, get tough right back with his ass. You know how to fight, you know how to do this.”
“I got you. I’m coming to Rio once I’m done here. Promise me you won’t kill Sena before I get there, right?”
“I promise. But don’t expect any more calls from Pretty Boy here. We still have plenty of preparing to do on our own before he gets ready for the Clash. One more thing, Emmy? I’m proud as hell of you. No bullshit. I was hard on you when training you and was worried you might wash out when you hit your rough patches. You’ve already had a better comeback than I’d ever have thought possible. Keep it up.”
Emmy was genuinely taken aback for a moment. Her conversations with Carlos were usually short, filled with sarcasm and without anything quite like that. She felt a sense of pride that she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so honored to hear such words from the man who had inspired her to become a professional wrestler in the first place. She knew that he was close to retirement as a wrestler if not officially having done so. His legacy, his style of wrestling, would have to be carried on by herself and the poor bastard that he was running ragged in another part of the hemisphere.
That was truly awesome to her.
Arata. For all the power that you have, for everything that you've done, I've always been that puzzle that you can't figure out, that mountain that you've never been able to conquer. History is going to repeat itself because instead of learning from the lessons of History, you seem content to write revisionist history. That's the difference between you and I. Not only have I learned to learn from the past but I've learned to let it go when necessary. At The Crowning, I'm going to let YOU go. For good.
Los Angeles International Airport.
Emmy actually hated to do this. She wanted to be in Brazil to help Sena prepare for his pay-per-view debut. It was a big deal for the kid, to be sure. Both of them were standing near gates that would take them to respective places: him on his way to South America and her on the way to Pittsburgh, the site of her first defense of the Grand Championship. She knew that retaining the Championship would be much more difficult than winning it outright, especially since she would be facing the man who she took it from. There was hesitation in Sena’s eyes as he looked towards the gate. Emmy couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. She berated him a lot and rated his wrestling far worse than she should, but she really respected and appreciated the younger man. He came up through the same system as she had but managed to make it out without some of her and her mentor’s vices.
“Are you sure about this? I’ve never been to Rio before. I’ve never left the country on my own!”
“You know Carlos is going to meet you down there, right? He’s going to help you prep for the Clash like…well…only Carlos can. I’ll make my way there as soon as my match is over, win or lose. You’ll be fine and you’ll be ready.”
“What about you? Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
“I would prefer to be by myself in all honesty. I know what this match is going to entail and I need to be one hundred percent focused on getting the victory, especially since they made it two out of three falls. Beating someone like him is a tough enough challenge but to do it twice in one night is going to be a pretty big pain in the ass.”
The young man nodded in agreement. Having had his first match against one of Arata’s cronies in Jack Daito, he knew all about Golden Dawn and the problems they represented for Emmy. As announcements blared over the loudspeakers about departure times, they knew they had to head off in opposite directions.
“Come to Brazil with the Grand Championship. After I win the Clash of the Titans, we’ll all have one massive party in Rio!”
With a smirk, Emmy just nodded her head and gave him a quick slap on the shoulder before turning and walking away. She had already called Tara to check on her and make sure that she was alright after a recent scare. With her friends taken care of for the time being, now she could completely focus on him. She never understood why there was such a relationship of hatred between them. While she was certainly never respectful towards him on arrival, as time went on she appreciated him more and more as an opponent every time she faced him. His agility, his determination, his technical prowess. Every bit of his fighting spirit had been seared into soul and she responded with full force. Even so, it seemed to drift more and more towards a feeling of pure hatred whenever his name came up. She had managed to befriend at least a few of the people that she had come across in her travels as a wrestler. Tara, Sabertooth, Myo, even various members of the Big Drip and countless others that she had fought against on her travels.
Arata was a different matter. Every time she stepped in the ring with him, she only felt her disdain grow. She tried to communicate with him in a respectful way (or as respectful as Emmy could be with just about anyone in truth) but nothing seemed to get through. Nothing ever seemed to earn his respect. Maybe that’s the thing that wounded her so badly, that frustrated her so much. As much as she craved the limelight and all the excesses that came along with it, at the core of it all was that she felt disrespected. That was why when the match was made she insisted that the stipulation would be two falls out of three. She wanted to leave absolutely no doubt as to who deserved to be holding the Grand Championship. She wanted to make sure that there would be no excuses, no flukes, nothing that Arata or anyone else could hold over her.
As she settled in for her flight in First Class and settled in for a bit, she drifted off to sleep.
No matter where I go in my career, it seems like Arata’s destined to be intertwined in my business. From my beef with his Golden Dawn, to our wars in WrestleWorld, to the clash that we just had for the Grand Championship in January. I’ve got plenty of bumps and bruises on my pretty little body, scars physically and emotionally that will never leave me. Every time I step into the ring with this man, I can feel my career shortening from all the punishment. I’ve wrestled him three times now and twice I was able to win. Every match that we’ve had has had massive significance, not just in terms of titles but to what they mean to me personally. Arata Asakura is one of the names I always hear about in locker rooms everywhere I go from Japan to Bucksnort, Tennessee. He’s respected, feared even by a lot of his peers.
Except me.
Arata’s always been a little naive when dealing with me it feels like to me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m smaller, younger, a woman or what, but you can tell by how he operates. Any time we’ve wrestled, he makes it like he’s appearing to lecture me in the ring. He’s so assured in what he’s doing, so confident in his way of thinking that he makes mistakes over and over and over again. But, instead of owning up to them and just admitting not being the better person on the night, he goes on making excuses. He refuses to hold himself accountable and simply realize that he’s not better.
I struggled with that for a long time. But coming here to Project Honor helped me with that. I started to own up to my shit more and more. When I lost to Cadillac Jackson my second match here, I realized that I needed to step my game up. Losing to Tara in that Clash for the Cup main event shattered me, especially after losing to the same man I will now be facing for the Grand Championship in another tournament final that very same week. I wanted to blame any and everything for a while. I had too many matches, I wasn’t getting enough rest. But I didn’t. I sucked it up and went for it…and I got it. No one expected me to even be in contention for the Grand Championship, a championship held by people like Ozymandias and Dickie Watson among others. I was mired in a losing streak, had a scare with my ankle, and didn’t have anything to my name in regard to championships.
But I took yours, Arata.
I looked at myself in the mirror long and hard after I lost to you that day. I realized that I needed to not only train harder and get even more ruthless in the ring but I needed to make sure that the next time I had an opportunity come my way I made it count. Will you be able to say the same?
Not if I have my way, dickhead.
February 15
Pittsburgh, PA
Emmy had checked into her hotel after a lengthy flight and immediately got up the next morning to give her body a light workout. She was very sure that Arata would be prepared and so would she. Her focus, however, wouldn’t be physically. She was more than confident that she would be prepared on that front. She had been working hard in the gym, breaking poor Sena to the point that he had to beg her to stop some of their more intense weightlifting and cardio sessions. Her focus would be more mentally than anything else. She had to reconcile that while this match was extremely personal to her, she had to take at least some of the edge off when it came to planning. It would be easy to just go to the ring and fly at The Golden Dragon with all the rage and aggression of a wild animal, but that would simply play into his hands. Why else would he blindside her and goad her into fights? Why else would he publicly berate her and disrespect her at any opportunity? Sure, he probably felt some of those things that he was saying were true, but he wanted to make sure that Emmy would get caught up in all of that instead of focusing on the task at hand. It was the mistake that she made in WrestleWorld…and it was the mistake she managed to avoid when facing him for the title the first time in Project: Honor. She had been studying Arata closely by watching their previous encounters on a tablet she kept for the purpose of analyzing and preparing for opponents but on this day she actually was evaluating herself as well. In each match that they had she noticed that her focus and energy improved every time while her mistakes grew smaller and smaller. She was so focused on her preparation that she didn’t notice someone clearing their throat before deciding to sit next to her in the hotel lobby.
“Excuse me.”
Emmy didn’t bother to look up from her studying. She knew who it was. The voice was a little deeper than most women’s but still had a charming, feminine quality to it. She could also recognize one of those sweaters from anywhere. There was only one woman she knew who dressed quite as conservatively out in public.
“What made you come out here?”
“I heard through a little birdie that you would be in town a few days before the show and wanted to come. I know that you have a lot on your mind. Wrestling him is never easy for you.”
“Sonya, you didn’t have to come here, you know? I would have been very much content to just go this alone. It’s not your fight.”
“You know that’s not how we operate. You gave me my big break in America, remember? It’s only appropriate that I make sure that you’re okay. You’re not only my benefactor but a trusted friend.”
“Heh. A friend that plucked you out of your dream of wrestling in Japan to watch my back here. A friend that put you in harm’s way to get where I wanted to go, not giving a second thought to how you felt about it. Honestly, I’ve been a pretty shitty friend and I want to apologize to you for that.”
The two of them were silent for a while, Emmy distracted by watching the very first match between herself and Arata from over a year prior. Her hair was a bit longer then and so was her arrogant streak. Sonya on the other hand simply stared off into space for a moment before plopping back against the couch, staring up at the hotel’s chandeliers.
“You’ve changed. In a lot of ways. When I first met you, you very much still hated wrestling. You weren’t as emotionally mature and grounded as you are now. You’ve exhibited a lot more passion for wrestling than you’ve cared to show before. You’ve even taken on a ‘Young Lion’, which surprised me. Where is he, by the way? I figured he would be with you.”
“The little birdie that told you I would be here didn’t tell you that he’s in Brazil getting ready for his own big fight? He’s made his debut in OWA and now he has his own shit to shovel. I plan on going down there to help him get ready but my business comes first, obviously.”
“Obviously. Emmanuelle the Mentor does have an interesting ring to it. Has he ever been to Brazil before?”
“Nope. But he’s got someone there that I’ve trusted to help him get ready for his big match. Carlos happened to be on vacation there so he’ll be staying with him.”
Sonya looked absolutely perplexed by what she had just heard. While she didn’t know Carlos Rosso permanently, tales of the man’s temper, absurd cocaine habit, womanizing ways and outright sadistic tendencies made her worry instantly if Sena was in good hands. Emmy chuckled to herself as if she could sense her friend’s misgivings without even looking at her.
“Carlos trained him too, so he’s already well aware of how crazy the old fart is. He’ll be fine.”
Sonya nodded after that, at least for the moment convinced that perhaps the kid would be fine.
“Alright. There is something that I wanted to talk to you about though. You know that Arata will stop at nothing to get in your head. Your emotions are part of what makes you great in the ring, but be careful that you control them. Everything that he does will be designed to get a reaction out of you, much like when you goaded him when you faced him for the Shogun Championship. In a lot of ways, your rivalry with him has come full circle. What you have to understand now is that after his humiliation of losing another title to you, he’ll be absolutely merciless until he reclaims it. Even though you may win this match, I don’t think he’s going to stop. He’s going to keep coming for you until he gets it back or you cripple him.”
For the first time, Emmy looked up from what she was watching on the screen. The match on her screen had ended and she had tossed her little tablet to the side. It was such a damn shame Sonya had absolutely zero interest in her because the woman was definitely Emmy’s type: Tall, athletic, beautiful, intelligent. She was always giving her advice, much needed advice at that. She saw things sometimes that Emmy wouldn’t want to admit or was just too focused on other things to actually see on her own.
“....I understand that. You know what I want to do with this Grand Championship, right? You know all the things that I’m working on doing and all the effort that I’ve put into trying to make whatever I get my hands on worthwhile. I know he’s angry about losing the title and I know he’ll do anything to get it back. But, I need this closure. I need to finally get him and this rivalry behind me, at least for a little while. There are so many interesting up and comers that I want to face, that I want to defend that belt against. I can’t do that if I can’t get him out of the way. Sonya, we go back a while. Why do you think that Arata hates me the way he does? As much as I try to offer him respect, he doesn’t have any for me. Am I that much of a bitch?”
“Emmy, you stalked and harassed the man on Social Media. You revived two of his arch nemeses from the dead, literally, just to stick it to him after the two of you had cooperated to win a match together. You’ve beaten him for Championships not once but twice. You assaulted some of his Golden Dawn trainees when that match with Sena and Jack Daito went sideways. Almost every time Arata thinks he’s got something going you upstage him. You’ve bashed his fashion sense, his haircut, and I think you almost sent him to the hospital in that first match with the body shot you threw that weakened him for the rest of the match. Yes, I think you have been that much of a bitch.”
Emmy sat there a bit dumbfounded before breaking out into a laugh. Sonya, usually more reserved with her laughter, did manage a big smile before giving off a light giggle. With that, the pair of friends, Champion and bodyguard got up from the couch and headed towards the elevator. There would be more time for studying, more time for preparation. For now though, Emmy was content to spend at least a little of this time just being a friend…something that she had been neglecting for a while now.
“So, what floor are you staying on? What kind of room do you have?”
“Hmm…just a basic single. I don’t need anything extra.”
“Bullshit! You’re going to spend the next couple of nights in my suite. Plenty of room, spa treatments, private dining, complimentary room service. You’re gonna love it.”
“I’ve already paid for my own room, Emmy. Thank you but I don’t want to impose.”
“Well, I’M going to impose. C’mon! You flew out here to annoy me. Well, I’m gonna annoy you before you go back to Japan!”
As I started out in this business, there was something that my trainer Carlos taught me that stuck with me for a long, long time: You can make friends in this business or you can make money. You usually can’t make both. Now that I’ve spent some time in wrestling, in a lot of ways I have to disagree with that statement. Of course the business has it’s parasites, two-bit assholes and losers. There are people who will smile in your face one moment then absolutely try to screw you over when they have the slightest opportunity to do so. But, as I open myself up more and more to the wrestling world, I’m finding out that this isn’t the case, Arata. When I first started in this business, I couldn’t even share a locker room with people. I was top of the line! I had to have first class everything, I didn’t want to share anything with anyone. Maybe it was my days as a hostess that kinda turned me off to people. Maybe it was being an athlete at a college where people constantly tried to kiss your ass to get something out of you. I don’t know. What I do know is that being in this industry has made me a little more capable of forming friendships.
Except with you.
I never started out loving this sport, but from the very beginning it started to love me. My fast start, my title wins, everything that I was able to achieve in two years time. But ironically enough it wasn’t until I started losing when I figured out how much the wrestling world loved me. Myojin was always there to listen to me when I was having dips in confidence in myself. Even your student Hana Nakajima and I have, on occasion, been able to say some pleasant things about each other and if not get along at least be respectful. Indy Darling himself is probably one of the main reasons I didn’t give up. He, of all people, advocated for me to be in that tournament held to honor his father. When I was at one of my lowest points, the night of that final, he was kind enough to try to lift my spirits. There was a point where I was going to just leave wrestling altogether. I have more money than I’ll ever know what to do with, even with my lifestyle. But I kept going. I started to listen more to the people in the locker room instead of looking down at them. I started taking my training even more seriously than I did before. I started to get to know the people I would stand across the ring from.
I started to finally love wrestling back.
Even with all the bumps and bruises. Even with people like you. I have my flaws, in and out of the ring. Everyone who has followed my career knows that well enough. I’m a womanizing braggart, a cocky young thing who has an eye for everything that glitters or looks pretty. Everyone sees that part of Emmanuelle. They see the costumes, the funny promos, the flashy moves in the ring.
That doesn't mean they know who the hell Emmanuelle Alicia Dinardo is.
I’m a natural athlete, but I had to endure hell just to make it here. When I first got into the business as a trainee, who do you think Carlos tried to break first? It wasn’t the big amateur wrestlers or cocky football players. It was me. Same thing when I started wrestling in California, hitting the towns all over the place. Reseda, Anaheim, Long Beach, Riverside, Sacramento. All the veterans tried to run me out of the sport. I was too stuck up. I was too pretty.
BUT HERE. I. AM.
You want to play games and sneak attack me? Cool. You want to keep addressing me and behaving like I’m someone new who doesn’t know how any of this shit goes? Fine. But there is one thing that I think you know but you’re doing your absolute best to hide: my title is on the line when we meet at The Crowning II…but so is your reputation. I’ve heard you preach your fucking head off about how superior you are, how you’re the gaijin killer and how you’re going to rule this and win that. You’ve done all this work to get where you are, Self Made Man, but what happens when you lose ANOTHER title match to a little ‘hafu’ like me, huh? You’re the one with the history of being on top wherever you’ve been. You’re the one who was holding so much gold at one point you were like a walking, talking Fort Knox.
You were expected to beat me three times before…you only did it once. The whole time since you’ve lost the Grand Championship I’ve heard nothing but excuse after excuse after excuse. At least when you lost the Shogun Championship to me, you at least pretended to be civil and gracious. When you lost this title, you proceeded to cry like a baby needing to be burped or changed. You couldn’t accept your defeat like a real man. I don’t know why that is. You’ve always had this weird obsession with me like I’m some sort of student of yours, that I’ve done nothing but ape your swagger. While it’s definitely true that I had the doors opened for me and that I was fast-tracked into companies a lot faster than I deserved to be, that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve busted my ass to make it to this position!
And I will work even harder to stay here.
While I’m not perfect, the woman that you faced for the King of the World Crown is gone. The woman that you wrestled for the Shogun Championship has matured. You’ve gotten something in your head like you know me, like you’re someone that I look up to. At The Crowning, I’m going to show you that you’ve only wrestled Emmanuelle. You haven’t met Emmanuelle Alicia Dinardo yet. And there is one cardinal rule when it comes to her:
Don’t fuck with her.
This match is about more than a championship to me. It’s about more than settling our rivalry for good. It’s about showing you that I don’t need your condescending “nurturing touch” anymore. I’ve grown to love this business and this company more than almost anything else on this earth. I was willing to do whatever I deemed necessary to relieve you of this beautiful title belt. If I were you, I would start trying to build a pretty vivid picture of what I would do to keep it. Want some examples? I would probably hit my own goddamn father with a Palisades Bomber if it meant keeping it….then I would hit your wife with one just to make sure.
I don’t need you anymore, Arata.
I never fucking did.
February 16
Pittsburgh, PA
Technology was a wonderful thing. She didn’t care much for Iphones but FaceTime was clutch in situations like these. With it, she could keep up with Sena and his preparations for the Clash of the Titans. There were rumors circulating that a certain muscular blonde half-Japanese woman would be entering a match herself, but she kept quiet as to her intentions. The more that she kept herself busy with ventures outside of her two main companies, the more she wanted to do these things as a surprise. When journalists came up to her to ask about the situation, she wouldn’t confirm or deny. The poor kid was dressed in a seat-drenched white T-shirt and gym shorts. She could tell from his haggard appearance and from the glum look in his eyes that Carlos probably went overboard with his Battle Royale training.
“The old man kicked your ass, didn’t he?”
“Not even just him. He brought in all these jujitsu and capoeira fighters and stuff to the gym here. He made me spar with all of them and try to throw them over the ropes. It….sucked.”
“Crazy fucker. He knows you have that match coming up in, what, about ten days? He’s going to KILL you doing all of this crap.”
“But you know what is the worst part about it? Every day he hits me with the same-”
“I know, I know. ‘I won this big battle royal in the Rose Bowl with 100,000 people watching and I overcame the odds after being one of the people who stayed in there the longest! If you can survive this, you can survive a battle royal goddamn it!’ I know the routine, he did the same thing with me for fun. You’ll make it.”
“Hey, how are you doing though? I heard that there was some serious funny business with your friend Tara and how she may have been assaulted or something. Just some rumors, nothing that I know for sure.
“I don’t know either. I’m trying to not get too involved, you know? When I heard about what happened I just made sure that she got the rest that the doctors were telling her to, I kept in contact with her kid as best as I could. Sonya’s here, you know?”
“The tall chick who helps you out in WrestleWorld?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve never had a chance to meet her. Maybe after you’re done in Pittsburgh I can….SHIT! SHIT!”
Emmy was startled for a moment as the phone was dropped on the floor with a loud clattering. For a few minutes it was pointed up towards the lights of the gym but she could just hear the commotion and couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that familiar voice with the bit of Southern drawl that came out when a certain former trainer was pissed off.
“SENA YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKA! I CAN'T LEAVE YO PUNK ASS ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES BEFORE YOU SNEAK OFF TRYING TO DUCK WORKOUTS! I DONT GIVE A FUCK WHEN THE CLASH IS, YOU’RE GONNA GET YOUR PUNK ASS READY! I WILL MAKE YOU TRAIN TO THE POINT YOU CANT EVEN MOVE! I WILL MAKE YOU DO UP-DOWNS UNTIL YOU’RE SO SICK YOU WILL SHIT ON YOURSELF! HINDU SQUATS! NOW! AND DON’T STOP UNTIL I TELL YOU TO, MOTHERFUCKA! I WILL BEAT YOUR DAMN HEAD IN IF YOU MISS COUNT! DO IT NOW! WHO THE FUCK IS THIS ON THE PHONE ANYWAY!? SOME BRAZILIAN BIG BOOTY BITCH! YOU TOO YOUNG AND TOO STUPID TO HANDLE SOME ASS LIKE THAT! LEMME….”
Carlos saw who was actually on the call with Sena and his intentions to flirt immediately were shot down. Emmy couldn’t help but chuckle at his disappointment.
“Good afternoon, Carlos.”
“Good afternoon, Emmy. Now why are you calling this kid and wasting his time, don’t you know I’m trying to prep him for his next match? He’s never been anything like it and he thinks this shit is a game! He needs to be concentrating!”
“He needs to be resting and talking strategy with you. Not nearly dying as you run him through some kind of Bloodsport Kumite bullshit.”
“Fine. I won’t kill him. Today. After he’s given me…..hmmm….a couple of hundred Hindu squats, I’ll let him rest and then we’ll go out on the town to get something to eat. How’s that?”
“That’s fine.”
“Good. And what’s with you? When I first sent the kid to ya, You were acting like you didn’t want anything to do with him. Are you getting sweet on Sena? I mean I heard you let him move into your place for a little while until he gets on his feet. Is there something happening between you two that I need to know- HEY….I DON’T REMEMBER ASKING YOU A GODDAMN THING…KEEP HITTING THOSE SQUATS!”
Carlos had turned his attention back towards Sena, who was trying to interject in the conversation but was immediately shot down. Now that he was done scolding one protege, he turned his attention back to another with a sly grin. Emmy knew what he was implying and he was doing it mainly to get a rise out of her. She didn’t take the bait however. Keeping calm, she spoke softly to him, smiling as sweetly as her temper would allow.
“You know that I wouldn’t look at Sena like that. I like the same type of bitches you like, remember?”
“Ohhhhhh…right. Anyway, I know you got a big match coming up. You straight? Not THAT kind of straight. You good to go?”
“I’m fine. I’ve been thinking a lot about this match you know? He’s good, really fucking good, Arata.”
“I know. I mixed it up with him a little bit back in the day. He’s a bonafide bad motherfucker. But you’ve already beaten him twice already. And he knows it too. He’s going to throw everything at you about how you’re not ready for the moment. How you’ve ridden on his coattails. How you cheated at Unbreakable Resolution, which I think is kinda hilarious considering some of the bullshit he’s pulled of late in various places. You know what you’re up against and you know you can stand up to it. The thing with you is what it always is: your mentality.”
“I know. And I’m not shying away from how important this match is. I’m just…frustrated, you know?”
“Why?”
“I don’t feel like he respects me, like at all. He just sees me as just another person on the roster who is underneath him. I can’t ever be his equal, he just sees me as one of his little Golden Dawn subordinates.”
“........Why do you fucking care what he sees you as?”
“........................”
“.......I get it. Down in your subconscious you respect him. As much as you want to hate him, a little bit of you that you keep locked up inside respects the hell out of him still and you don’t want to push that to the side. My advice to you? Let that shit go. You know how this dude is. He’s not coming to the ring to play nice. And since you were willing to go a little further the last time to get that belt off of him, you know he’s gonna go the extra mile just to do you in this time.”
“I get it”
“Good. You can do this. You’ve been wrestling dudes ever since you came up through my dojo. You’ve seen everything that this man has to offer three times already and you’ve turned him back twice. If he wants to get tough, get tough right back with his ass. You know how to fight, you know how to do this.”
“I got you. I’m coming to Rio once I’m done here. Promise me you won’t kill Sena before I get there, right?”
“I promise. But don’t expect any more calls from Pretty Boy here. We still have plenty of preparing to do on our own before he gets ready for the Clash. One more thing, Emmy? I’m proud as hell of you. No bullshit. I was hard on you when training you and was worried you might wash out when you hit your rough patches. You’ve already had a better comeback than I’d ever have thought possible. Keep it up.”
Emmy was genuinely taken aback for a moment. Her conversations with Carlos were usually short, filled with sarcasm and without anything quite like that. She felt a sense of pride that she hadn't felt in a long time. She was so honored to hear such words from the man who had inspired her to become a professional wrestler in the first place. She knew that he was close to retirement as a wrestler if not officially having done so. His legacy, his style of wrestling, would have to be carried on by herself and the poor bastard that he was running ragged in another part of the hemisphere.
That was truly awesome to her.
Arata. For all the power that you have, for everything that you've done, I've always been that puzzle that you can't figure out, that mountain that you've never been able to conquer. History is going to repeat itself because instead of learning from the lessons of History, you seem content to write revisionist history. That's the difference between you and I. Not only have I learned to learn from the past but I've learned to let it go when necessary. At The Crowning, I'm going to let YOU go. For good.