Her friends call her 'Hadouken'...

Kozue stood behind the curtain as thousands of fans hummed on the other side. She'd been in this spot before, waiting to come out for an episode of Tension, hiding in the shadows while the commercial break played. Before, though, she'd always been dressed for a match. Tonight, she was in her casual clothes - just some ripped jean shorts, a grey shirt with a NES controller, and her black boots. Not dressed for action. Dressed for talking. Talking about action, but still...talking.

It was going to be her first time ever doing a promo solo. She'd done one with Junichi, that went well enough, but this was a different beast. That time, things had been simple. She'd had a simple message: King sucks. This time, things would be a wee bit more complex.

Her music started up and she came out right after the first few notes, raising her fists out to the audience and getting back a good reception. It was still overwhelming, no matter how many times she came out to this. So many people that were actually interested to hear what she had to say. Maybe she didn't win that many matches, but her fans stuck by her, regardless. It was high time she started paying back their feelings.

She sauntered on down to the ring with a smile on her face and grabbed a microphone, even though she didn't have a single rehersed word in her head worth speaking. Whatever she was going to say, it would come from the heart. So if it came out like she was full of shit, it would say a lot about her.

Kozue rolled in the ring and made her way to the center, then turned to looked at the hard camera. She still had a hint of a smile, but there was seriousness that she didn't usually express. She tapped the microphone against her chin, thought for a moment, then spoke.

"Yo." She gave them all a single, long wave. "Bear with me here, alright? Not my usual thing, coming out and yapping on like this, so I'll make it quick. Quick-ish." She took a few steps back and leaned on the ropes, crossing her legs like she was just hanging out. "Little known fact - when I first came, first time I dropped in Japan, I didn't go to Tension. I wanted to be in Friction, right? Those were the big leagues. You want to get to the highest point, you've got to start on the biggest mountain. But there were plenty of people in Friction already, so they pushed me to come over to Tension. I was cool with that. Not what I wanted, but fuck it, the pay was about the same to do the same thing, just with less tits."

Kozue leaned back even further and pointed to some of the audience nearby, guys who were just leaning forward to hear her talk. Calm, this was. Very casual. "But people warned me about Tension, you know? They told me it was the lesser league. It was just a bunch of guys who liked beating up girls or guys who liked getting beaten up by girls, and there wasn't any good competition, and I had to be careful, and I wouldn't get any good matches. Now, a year later, I'm still here. And I just wanted to say this to all the people who told me that Tension was no good: fuck you, you stupid, lying shits."

That got the crowd cheering, and she could imagine why. They'd heard a lot of the same thing, being Tension fans. She'd seen the arguments on the AFW forums a few times, heard the podcasts. Tension vs. Friction debates could get brutal. "See, since I've got here, I've had some good matches with some good wrestlers. And I don't mean just 'good', like talented. I mean these were some good guys. Friendly guys. Fuckable guys. Not that I would, but you get me." Little joke. She got a few chuckles. "Okay, okay, okay, my point is: there were some assholes in Tension, still are, always will be. But it wasn't as bad as people made out. This year has been, overall, one of the best of my life. I've had good matches. I've made some good fans. It's been an amazing experience, and I owe you all for giving it to me."

She finally moved away from the ropes and stepped back to the center of the ring, facing the entrance. She folded her arms and looked straight towards it, taking a few deep breathes. Here came the tough part. "That's why I want to apologize for what happened last week. Roll the clip."

The arena darkened a bit as the big screen started to flash. What came up next was a highlight reel of her match with Nathan Weed - or maybe a 'lowlight' reel, if you wanted to be more accurate. Kozue had made a few mistakes, and this video showed them all. The missed moonsault that came dangerously close to ending her career. The botched submission. The way Nathan had ended it all with a punch of all things.

Not her best moment.

When it was all over, Kozue ran her hand through her hair as the music came back on, and the crowd was a confused mix. Some people cheered her, some people booed, some people didn't seem to know what to think. "I know, I know. But tonight? Tonight, I start to make it right. Things are changing, but I can't do it alone. So. Nate!" The crowd started to pipe up a bit as they realized it wouldn't just be her out here. "If you're in the back, come on down. Need some words."

Kozue bounced from side to side as she waited for Nathan's music to start up...if it would start up at all. She'd sent him an invite, told him that she'd be making an announcement  she wanted him there for and that they had some shit to settle, but there was no telling if he'd actually take her up on it. She had a plan - a big plan - and he was the lynchpin, so if he turned her down...

From the moment he stepped foot in the arena tonight, Nathan was consumed by a single thought: Stop Kozue Kabaragi.

She had sent him an email that morning, but Nathan hadn’t had a chance to read it until he was already on the train to the stadium. It looked like your standard trash talk at first, something about how she wasn’t finished with him yet, that they still had business to take care of; you know, the usual. But, further down the screen, she’d written something that made him freeze. An announcement, one that she wanted him to be there for; that sounded an awful like a promo.

He’d hastily sent a reply from the train. “Wait,” it had read. “Don’t. Let’s talk in person.” But even as he sent it, he knew it was hopeless. The show was going to start in thirty minutes, which meant a block for the promo had long been set aside. Still, he’d hoped; the phone stayed in his hands the entire ride to the station. But no reply came; her phone was probably already stuffed in a locker somewhere.

A promo. Nathan knew how this worked. Instead of having a nice, civilized, face-to-face discussion, she wanted to 'talk' on mics, with a hundred feet of empty space between them, and an audience that would have the opportunity to express approval or displeasure after every sentence. She’d puff out her chest, call him some names; he’d be expected to do the same. Then, at the end, she’d challenge him to a rematch, and the audience would get hyped and cheer. He didn’t mind being challenged to another fight. Kozue was a great opponent- one who pushed his boundaries, stretched him in directions that he hadn’t been stretched in before- and their previous match had such an anticlimactic ending that he was actually grateful for another shot. He just wished he didn’t have to go through such public theatrics to do it.

So he went looking for Kozue, not even bothering to change out of his jeans and t-shirt. He went from green room to waiting room to waiting room to green room. He asked women leaving locker rooms if there wasn’t a ninja inside. He asked for help from beleaguered production assistants with better things to do. He even waited for a time at curtain, earning suspicious stares from the wrestlers on their way to the ring, before he gave up and began searching again.

Then, on a pass through the cafeteria, he caught sight of her… in the ring, on the television screen. Drat; too late! Defeated, he could do little but sit helplessly through Kozue’s promo. Listening to what she had to say, though, made him realize that he’d made some hasty assumptions about her promised announcement. In fact, he had no idea where Kozue was going with this. When she dropped his name and called him out, he hustled to the arena entrance, thoughtful, and more than a little curious.

------------

Love and War flooded into the Arena as Nathan Weed took to the top of the ramp. A microphone hung loosely from his left hand, and a slightly distressed look clung to his face. It wasn’t just that he was about to speak in front of thousands of people live, and millions more at home, though that wasn’t a small part of it. He’d asked the techs not to play his song, and they’d promised not to. The liars.

Nathan waited awkwardly at the top of the ramp for his music to finish, and for the boos to die down. The booing though… was it just his imagination, or were they less virulent than usual? But Dilated Peoples was starting to fade, and it was time for Nathan to speak. The microphone came up. His mouth opened.

“Hey, Kozue. What are you up to?”

Kozue almost - almost jumped for joy when Nathan came out. She was half sure she'd wind up standing out there like a jackass with no one to talk to. This was a last minute thing, and in hindsight, contacting him a little earlier and making her intentions clearer would've been the best thing for this.

But whatever. He was here now. They could talk.

"I'm good, man. Just cutting a promo." She looked out to the audience as their boos started to die down. Nathan was still drawing a little heat, but it wasn't quite as bad as it was last time. He was getting better. If what she had in mind worked like she wanted it to work, it would flip around.

"I'll get right to it." She stuffed a hand in her pocket and stepped forward. "You probably think I called you out here for a rematch. And I am...but not just a rematch." She flicked her ponytail back and stood up, full and straight."Here's my thing: I need to get better. And I think you want to get better, too. And I think the best way to do that is with a challenge - put us both in something that forces us to raise our game and learn new moves and adapt to keep up. 'Metal sharpens metal'. We can make each other better, and we can do it by giving these people something they ain't never seen before: the first AFW wrestling series."

There were a few cheers from the audience, but also a lot of confused looks, people who didn't get where she was going. That was fine - it was a rare thing she was talking about. Needed some explanation."You and me, best three out of five matches. Each match, new stipulation, winner of the last match gets to pick. Nice. Simple. Couldn't be more straightforward. Yeah - it could be  a royal clusterfuck. But it's a challenge. It's something no one in the AFW's ever done. It's something people'll be talking about if the AFW goes for a hundred more years. It's history, dude, and if you get down on this with me, I'll give you 200%. No titles, no bullshit, no fucking around. Just straight up wrestling."

She stepped back and formed her fingers into a square, getting him right down the middle. "That's the pitch. You do this thing with me, and I think we'll both come out better when it's done. You in or out?"

Nathan didn’t know how to respond right away, but that was fine. The audience, freshly equipped with Kozue’s explanation, broke out in renewed excitement. Kozue did a great job selling the idea. 'Making history.' 'Something that’s never been done.' 'A hundred years.' These buzz words latched onto the crowd’s imagination and fed directly into their collective enthusiasm. Neither Nathan nor Kozue could realistically be counted among Tension’s all-stars, but the noise they were generating still swelled to levels high enough that it was hard for Nathan to keep track of his own thoughts.

He did want to get better, that much she had right, and the proposition was certainly an interesting one. A best of five, each match different than the last; the structure of the contest would compel Nathan to become more adaptable if he wanted to make a good showing, especially against an opponent like Kozue. It would force him to grow. It was a challenge. He could do without the whole 'making-history' bit, but the rest of it sounded fine by him. He made his decision.

He returned his focus to the woman in the ring and lifted the microphone again; the crowd fell into a sudden, expectant hush.

“Okay. I’m in.”

"Fuckin' A!"

Kozue pumped her fist Nathan's way and the crowd cheered along with her, clearly down with the idea. It was a pretty good setup. They came to see wrestling, and Kozue and Nathan were going to give it to them. In spades. So long as they didn't suck, but fuck it. The pressure would do them both good.

"We gotta work on your enthusiasm, but seriously - great that you're down for this. This'll be some epic shit." She threw a wink his way and backed away from the ropes tapping her chin. She bounced on heels a few times, a giddy smile on her face. She felt like she could start a match right now, just strip down to her skivvies and start up. Might even be more fun that way. "So! You won last time, choice is on you. What's your pick for the next match?"

Please say TLC, please say TLC, please say TLC...

Nathan allowed himself a small smile as he watched Kozue react happily to his answer. This was a good opportunity for him- for the both of them; he couldn't forget that Kozue stood to benefit from the match up, too, and that gave him a good feeling. He was glad that they’d fought.

Then Kozue put the ball back in his court, and his eyebrows furrowed. Oh. Right. He had to determine the rules for their next fight. Nathan scratched his head. “Huh. You’re kind of putting me on the spot here. Give me a second.” He closed his eyes and crossed his arms. Then he rolled his neck in a slow circle. Clockwise. Counterclockwise. Clockwise again.

He thought back to their match. If they wanted this to work, if they were going to derive the maximum benefit, they’d need to move away from their comfort zones. His crutch was easy enough to identify- all he knew how to do was punch. Kozue’s moveset was a little more diverse; she was dangerous in the air, but she knew how to make her strikes count, too. particularly if they came from those legs of hers. He thought a little harder, focusing less on what happened in the match and more on what didn’t; what stipulation would make their second fight the most different from their first?

Well, that was obvious. Nathan opened his eyes.

“Okay, got it. Our next fight will be an I Quit match- only an oral submission can end the fight. And it’s going to be no strikes allowed.” The arena resounded with the crowd’s response. Nathan let the audience have their moment of revel before he raised the microphone again. “What are we playing for?”

Kozue gave herself a little internal kick when she found out that their first match would not, in fact, be a TLC match. She'd been craving one since her match with Johnny, loving the way that whole exchange went down, and this would've been a good chance for a rivival.

Still, Nathan's actual pick was interesting, and she paused to think while the fans cheered for it. She knew submissions, but she used them sparingly, wanting to keep things flowing in a match as much as possible. She did her best work when on the move, and bringing that to a standstill with a guy like Nathan could be dangerous. She didn't have to worry about punches, that was good, but it meant she'd have to try and outwrestle him. She couldn't just razzle him with her strikes when things got tough. And while Nathan was no King in the body department, he was clearly more well built than she was. In a direct confronation, he'd win, every time. Tricky, tricky, tricky.

But that was the whole point, wasn't it?

"It's a date." She pummeled her palm and nodded. "And I dunno - respect? Honor? Lofty shit like that? Oh," She snapped her fingers. "Winners picks the losers theme song for a month. How's that work?"

Truth be told, Nathan would have been fine playing without anything on the line; improvement for the sake of improvement wasn't something that he was against. But he'd known plenty of competitive people, and Kozue shared more than a few traits with a good number of them, so he doubted that the series could simply be just that. Plus, it never hurt to make sure that he wasn't getting conned into a contest with secret high-stakes; maybe for money he was loathe to part with. Or maybe Kozue was one of those girls who liked to take her vanquished competitors home, POW-style. He didn't know; they'd only met the one time before, after all.

So Nathan wasn't sure what sort of answer he'd find at the other end of that question. It was fairly safe to say though that month-long DJ rights wasn't it. He laughed, relieved. Pure self-betterment seemed to be the genuine intent of the entire endeavor. He made his way down the ramp as he spoke. "Alright, Kozue. It's a bet." He slid into the ring once he got there, then reached out with his right hand. Couldn't have a bet without shaking on it, could you?

Nathan's laugh made Kozue laugh, and she ran a hand over her mouth as the chuckle flowed through her. Nathan was a good guy, she could tell that much, but he seemed like a bit of a stiff. Win or lose, if this little thing they were doing got the guy to open up, it would be worth the trouble.

When she looked down again, she was surprised to see Nathan making his way down to the ring. Surprised, but not threatened, since the guy didn't have a malicious bone in him that she could see. Just curious.

She relaxed a bit when he came in and offered her a handshake. Her shoulders sagged and she shook her head. "Dude, you're adorable. Come here." Kozue reached out and grabbed his hand, making the fingers curl into a fist. She made one of her own, then gave him a bump right on the knuckles. "See? That's how it's done. Modernized. Boom."

Kozue gave him a quick salute and a wink as she back away to the ropes and slid under the bottom. "See you in a week!" She called out, as she jumped the rail and was engufled by a sea of fans cheering her on. And him.

This was going to be an interesting  year.