Post by Deleted on Jul 8, 2021 20:20:17 GMT -5
There was a small dive bar not far from the NPW training facility. It was a squat brick building bathed in the warm glow of neon, and it smelled of cheap booze and greasy food. And so it was that Takaru Matsui sat the rather old looking wooden bar, a Molson in hand with two empty bottles at his elbow. Classic rock washed through the place, a slow lazy beat as he watched whatever game was on the TV. He shook his head, taking another drink of his beer as he considered his current state.
He had come here to pay back the favor that Donzig had called in, and that was finished. So why was he still here? Revenge? As an old mutual friend had once told him, Donzig was almost a force of nature there was no need for revenge on him. He was what he was, what he would always be. You would not seek revenge on a storm or forest fire. Donzig wouldn't care, he would relish the fight.
Endless conflict, eternal strife, these were what Donzig craved. Would Takaru give it to him?
But yet he remained here in Canada, and a part of him realized that maybe he wanted this. He wanted to be back in this life, back in the world of wrestling. It had been a long time since he had decided to stay in Kyoto, it had been a long time since he stood in the ring with the roar of the crowd around him. It was addictive, he knew that. After all Donzig had once said that inside that ring with the fans howling for blood was the only thing that gave his life meaning.
But Takaru didn't care about that, he found a certain calm inside the ring. He found a certain peace in testing his skills against his fellow warriors, and he had missed that. Was that why he stayed? Was that why he was looking forward to facing the GSP?
He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he muttered. 'In attempting to destroy me did you give me my life back, Donzig? Did you make me reborn into your vision? A warrior bound into your vile dreams of chaos?'
He shook his head again, snorting before he drained the bottle of Molson. His eyes met his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, nearly hidden behind the rows of bottles. Then he motioned for another drink, and glanced at the TV. A shrug of his shoulders, and he decided there could be worse fates than spending a few seasons in Canada. He liked to wrestle, he liked to fight, and he knew that Kyoto would be waiting for him when he tired of it.
Besides, he reasoned, Freakke had stood by him. The Carnival King could have turned his back on him, he could have joined Donzig in the darkness of the KGB. He could have walked away from it, but instead he had taken the side of a man he barely knew. He had chosen to help Takaru rather than leave him to the wolves, and he knew that Donzig did not accept what he perceived as betrayal lightly. He would be out for blood, a man posessed until he had his revenge on Freakke for the insult. Could he do less than the Carnival King? Could he leave the man to his enemies?
Takaru knew they would come, Donzig wouldn't rest until he made an example of Freakke. And he knew that beneath that surreal exterior and his strange jokes, that the man was a monster. He was a creature of nightmare, and he was not an enemy one took lightly. The KGB would be no less, they seemed to be cut of the same cloth as their newest member.
'Eh, bandits.' he muttered, taking another drink of his beer.
He could feel the weight of his decision, of destiny settling on him. He wouldn't walk away from this fight, he would not turn his back on Freakke, and he would not give up this life he enjoyed again. He stroked his chin, and shrugged as he absently rolled the bottle back and forth before him. There was no choice, he would stay in Canada. He would fight for the NPW, because he could do no less and remain Takaru Matsui.
The King of Kyoto finished his beer, and dug into his pocket before tossing a few crumbled bills onto the bar. He gave a quick nod to the bartender, rolling his shoulders before he started for the door. He had to go and face his choices now, and he was content with that.
He had come here to pay back the favor that Donzig had called in, and that was finished. So why was he still here? Revenge? As an old mutual friend had once told him, Donzig was almost a force of nature there was no need for revenge on him. He was what he was, what he would always be. You would not seek revenge on a storm or forest fire. Donzig wouldn't care, he would relish the fight.
Endless conflict, eternal strife, these were what Donzig craved. Would Takaru give it to him?
But yet he remained here in Canada, and a part of him realized that maybe he wanted this. He wanted to be back in this life, back in the world of wrestling. It had been a long time since he had decided to stay in Kyoto, it had been a long time since he stood in the ring with the roar of the crowd around him. It was addictive, he knew that. After all Donzig had once said that inside that ring with the fans howling for blood was the only thing that gave his life meaning.
But Takaru didn't care about that, he found a certain calm inside the ring. He found a certain peace in testing his skills against his fellow warriors, and he had missed that. Was that why he stayed? Was that why he was looking forward to facing the GSP?
He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he muttered. 'In attempting to destroy me did you give me my life back, Donzig? Did you make me reborn into your vision? A warrior bound into your vile dreams of chaos?'
He shook his head again, snorting before he drained the bottle of Molson. His eyes met his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, nearly hidden behind the rows of bottles. Then he motioned for another drink, and glanced at the TV. A shrug of his shoulders, and he decided there could be worse fates than spending a few seasons in Canada. He liked to wrestle, he liked to fight, and he knew that Kyoto would be waiting for him when he tired of it.
Besides, he reasoned, Freakke had stood by him. The Carnival King could have turned his back on him, he could have joined Donzig in the darkness of the KGB. He could have walked away from it, but instead he had taken the side of a man he barely knew. He had chosen to help Takaru rather than leave him to the wolves, and he knew that Donzig did not accept what he perceived as betrayal lightly. He would be out for blood, a man posessed until he had his revenge on Freakke for the insult. Could he do less than the Carnival King? Could he leave the man to his enemies?
Takaru knew they would come, Donzig wouldn't rest until he made an example of Freakke. And he knew that beneath that surreal exterior and his strange jokes, that the man was a monster. He was a creature of nightmare, and he was not an enemy one took lightly. The KGB would be no less, they seemed to be cut of the same cloth as their newest member.
'Eh, bandits.' he muttered, taking another drink of his beer.
He could feel the weight of his decision, of destiny settling on him. He wouldn't walk away from this fight, he would not turn his back on Freakke, and he would not give up this life he enjoyed again. He stroked his chin, and shrugged as he absently rolled the bottle back and forth before him. There was no choice, he would stay in Canada. He would fight for the NPW, because he could do no less and remain Takaru Matsui.
The King of Kyoto finished his beer, and dug into his pocket before tossing a few crumbled bills onto the bar. He gave a quick nod to the bartender, rolling his shoulders before he started for the door. He had to go and face his choices now, and he was content with that.