Work In Progress

Junko was in the room a few moments after Julia cried out. She rushed in and was by Taylor's side. "Julia-chan! Grab a wet towel and a glass of water!" Junko clutched Taylor's shoulder. "Taylor-chan, do you need me to call emergency services? What's wrong?!" She asked with a fretful, shaking voice.

Taylor's eyes focused on Junko when she rushed into the room, and even in the midst of her panic she felt a sharp pang of... what was it? Shame. Remorse. It jarred her enough to regain a measure of control over herself.

She shook her head and tried to wave her mother-in-law off. She spluttered and tried to speak, and her gasping became slowly less violent. She managed to get in a couple normal breaths. She was red-faced and her eyes were watery, and she coughed before trying to speak again.

"I..." Her voice was scratchy and she cleared her throat. She kept shaking her head. "No, I'm... Don't..."

She looked around, like she had just been dropped into the bedroom and couldn't quite remember how she got there. It seemed surreal. Her chest heaved while she tried to catch her breath, breathing normally now, and tried her best to calm down.

"I'm s-sorry, I..." She lifted a hand and helplessly let it drop. "I dunno."

Junko instantly moved in and hugged Taylor tightly when the girl finally spoke. Her fingers slipped upward and mingled with her messy, blonde locks.

"Taylor-chan..." Junko cooed. "It's going to be alright. I promise, my dear."

Immediately after Junko told her what to get, Julia nodded and ran off to do as she was told. "Right! I'll be right back!"

The blonde hurried to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, then grabbed a towel and wet it in the sink, before hurrying back to Taylor's room with them.

"Got it!" she said, crouching down by them again and holding the glass and wet towel out to Junko.

"No, I'm good," Taylor waved at Junko again, trying to disperse some of her concern so that she wouldn't be so embarrassed. When Julia returned, Taylor looked at her with fresh confusion on her face.

"Uh..." She looked at the towel and the water. "It's okay..." She held up her hand to refuse the things, but her mouth was pretty dry... She took the glass of water. "Thanks, Julia."

She took a long sip from the glass and her eyes wandered around, not falling on Junko or Julia. "It was just like... an asthma attack or something, but I definitely don't have asthma. I just... couldn't breathe. Maybe I should go to the doctor." She shrugged.

"I'm fine, though. I think I just have too much energy. I'm gonna go run the ropes for a while to wear myself out. Clear my head, and stuff," she said, and stood up off the floor.


She walked quickly to distance herself from the scene, from the concerned eyes of her gym-mate and mother-in-law, and from the place on the floor where she had collapsed, helpless, gasping for air. How could she cut it in the ring if she fell to pieces just laying in bed? Was that who she was now? Would she fall apart in her next match?

She was nearly running through the house by the time she reached the garage door. In boxers, bralette, and bare feet, she climbed into the ring and immediately ran across. She turned, rebounded, ran again.

Her fears swirled in her head. She was suffocating, drowning, falling behind. She couldn't get Kelly Conway out of her head. She silently counted them off: Kelly. Brittany. Jessica Wright. Death Bunny... Killer King. Fang. Shay. Eagle. Dark Angel. Saah Gatt. Karina Rine. Chigusa Yuuki. Her pulse quickened.  She listed them again. She turned, rebounded, ran faster.

She didn't fear Kelly. She lusted for a fight against her, in the ring or not. Backstage, in the locker room, in the parking lot. She salivated at the thought of getting to put all her talent and skill and athleticism to work on that cowardly little bitch. And yet... She was terrified. There were so many of them, and she didn't know what they would do next. She didn't know who was next. She turned, rebounded, ran faster. Her lungs burned.

Winning seemed impossible when her opponents didn't play by the rules. Taylor would gladly face anyone in the ring. She was the fastest girl in the league. She hit harder than girls twice her size. She was versitile. She was never out of a fight. She was a nightmare for any girl with the guts to step between the ropes, but that wasn't where Kelly fought. Or... Jessica. She thought of Avery, and pushed herself to run even faster. Her legs could hardly keep up.

The girl was nineteen, the same age as Taylor when she got her start. She was bold and brave and passionate and talented and excited, just getting her feet wet in wrestling but she showed so much promise. Her enthusiasm was infectious. She had a style and an identity of her own, an identity that Jessica smashed somewhere backstage months ago. Taylor tried to imagine the scene, what she used, where she had hit Avery and how long it took to break the girl's body and end her career. She wondered how many seconds it took Jessica to take away Avery's whole life. She wondered how many it would take for Taylor to do the same to Jessica. She wished more than anything that she had been there. She ached to have Avery back in one piece. She should've been there. It was agony.

She sprinted across the ring at full speed on heavy legs, turned, rebounded, and her legs quit. She fell face first on the mat with a thud, and laid there in a heaving, breathless heap.

She wanted to hit something, to pound the mat with her fists and scream until her throat was raw, but she laid still, and silent. She closed her eyes and could almost see what little control she had drifting out of her hands. Her body relaxed. An feeling of serenity washed over her that was entirely foreign, and her legs wobbled weakly as she stood up and looked around at the quiet in the gym, in the empty ring. She listened, and heard nothing. She wondered if it was always like this and she had never noticed.

She curiously explored the new feeling while sweat dripped off the end of her nose and left tiny dark spots on the mat below. She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes and raise her arms up over her head, reaching her hands up toward the ceiling, toward the sky, and let it all in. She swayed gently back and forth, and as a pair of tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, she did something she had never really done before.

It was just after sunrise in Yoyogi Park. Pushing 9:00 or so, maybe. Blossom had already lost track of the time, since she'd gotten wrapped up in the scenery. You could see the sunlight peeking through the trees, hear the birds gearing up for another day. It wasn't a perfectly clear day, there were a few thin rainclouds in the sky, and they peppered the place in a misty drizzle that you could just feel in the wind. Enough to be refreshing, not enough to be annoying. Nice and cool, quiet and serene, with only the faint hum of the city in the distance to distract you.

Porridge weather, not too hot and not too cold. Perfect for jogging, and Blossom was right in the middle of it. She'd woken up early, like usual, wanting to get as much out of each day as she could possibly squeeze. A few eggs for breakfast, quick shower to rinse off the cobwebs, then she pulled on her brown Honey Nut Cheerios shirt, slid into her black jogging shorts, found her Nike's hiding under her bed and out the door she went. Right at the crack of dawn.

Blossom wasn't a wrestler anymore. Not officially. But she'd worked for years to get her body in shape for it, honed it all through high school, and that wasn't going to waste if she could help it. That meant following pretty much the same workout routine she'd gone through when she'd been required to do it. Still going to the same places to jog, still eating as healthy as her budget would allow, still using the gym to train hard when she wasn't there to help people do the same thing. She didn't spend any real time training in the ring, but she replaced that time in the other areas. It was strange, in a way. Now that she had a job that put her on an actual schedule, she'd thought things would get more hectic and that she wouldn't find the time to enjoy life. Not the case. Not even close. She felt healthier, she looked better, and even though she had fewer minutes on the clock than before, they seemed more valuable, now.

A weird place to find herself in. Not what she'd planned when she first gotten off the plane. But good.

She finally checked the fitness tracker on her wrist as she started to slow down, pulling in for a pitstop on a nearby bench. Three miles so far, after just under half an hour. Not bad, and she had about two more hours to go. Decent pace, but she wanted to turn it up in the next two hours.

"Ohayō!" Blossom waved to an elderly couple as they passed by, then leaned forward to take a few sips from her water bottle. Took a few breathes. Ran a hand through her matted, brown hair. Sighed as the sweat and rain mixed over her body.

A couple more minutes, then back at it.

Breathe in... breathe out. Relax. One foot in front of the other.

Taylor had promised Junko, on her way out the door early that morning, that she wasn't going to work out. She was just out for a light jog on her way to her old favorite park. "Go slow" Junko had told her, and she was trying her best.

Her pace had a way of quickening. Her mile times were always under six minutes. She could show up at any local fun-run and be confident that she would place in at least the top three. The real challenge for Taylor was to try to push her mile times up as high as she could get them, and keep them there.

Her skin was wet, but she had hardly broken a sweat when she arrived at the park. She was covered in just a pair of red-and-white running shorts and a tight, red Flash tank top, with a big lightning bolt logo on the front, a couple colorful bracelets, and her blue-and-white running shoes. Her damp blonde hair was back in a ponytail. As soon as she slowed to a walking pace and put her hands on her hips, she wished she had brought a sweatshirt. It wasn't as warm as she had thought, and sitting still might be a challenge.

She zeroed in on her favorite bench, on which she had spent so much time earlier in her career, and paced in that direction. She heard the cheerful greeting in accented Japanese, looked up and saw an elderly couple pass by, and then stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted Blossom.

"Uh..." Sound came out of her mouth before her brain could come up with a use for it. She momentarily froze in place before mustering the courage to approach the sunny little girl.

"Hey," she said. She couldn't figure out what to do with her hands, and the wandered from her sides to her hips before she finally folded her arms across her chest. She really wished she had her sweatshirt.

Blossom had fished her phone out of her pocket when she heard the voice, going through a few tunes, looking for something to set a nice rhythm with. She was already halfway back into her own little world, and she'd put one of the earbuds in.

So she didn't pay much attention when she heard the greeting. Blossom gave the newcomer a quick glance and responded with a friendly "Hi!" and a smile. One of those little half-looks people give to other people as they pass by, when they know they''ll probably never cross paths for the rest of their lives.

It took all of exactly one second for the familiarity of the voice to really set in. It was one she'd heard on television quite a few times, especially since she'd quit wrestling. She'd heard it in person just once, but that was a moment she wouldn't be forgetting. Ever.

She swung her head around, looked at the hint of a Flash symbol underneath those folded arms, then craned her neck upwards with her eyes growing wider every second of the way. Yep. It was her. "Ms. Parker?" Blossom shifted her gaze off to the side, squinted, then shook her head and shifted back. "Mrs. Higurashi. Taylor." Her voice was a confused mishmash of emotions, like her brain wasn't sure what was the proper tone for this situation.

And was Blossom was staring? It felt like she was staring. She was totally staring. Awkward. Say something. "...hey." She squeaked it more than she said it.

Taylor slowly found her resolve, and set her tired eyes on the brunette. Her arms unfolded and her hands drifted back down to find a place on her hips.

"Hey, Blossom," she said, more softly. "Do you... Whatcha up to?"

What maybe surprised Blossom more than anything was that Taylor wasn't just walking on. It wasn't as if they shared a rich history, and she honestly hadn't expected the feisty New Yorker to even remember her name. It seemed like there was an actual conversation in the works, and it didn't help that there was one thing that Blossom really wanted to say to her, too. She never thought she'd get the chance. Now that it was here...

"Nice shirt." That one just came out of nowhere. True, though, and it helped get her voice back down to a normal pitch with only a hint of nervousness. "And I'm just going for a little jog. Running a bit." She stretched her legs out and let her feet slide through the gravel. "Yourself?"