In My Mind

Natasha sat on the couch in her apartment, staring blankly towards the coffee table in front of her. It had only been a couple weeks since her second loss against Valley Doll in their rematch. Her second loss to the woman, and her fourth loss in a row. Needless to say, the Russian wasn't exactly in a good mood.

In fact, she seemed completely out of things, sitting there with a blank stare on her face. The lights of the apartment were dimmed, and Natasha herself looked rough. Her hair was a complete mess, and she was dressed in a blank white t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants. She hadn't left the apartment all day, and she hadn't really done much of anything. She just couldn't wrap her mind around it. She couldn't understand how she had racked up four losses in a row, two of them to Valley Doll of all people. It just didn't make sense to her.

Natasha knew she was taking things hard, though. She knew she was letting things get to her too much, but...she really couldn't help it. She had never been on a losing streak like this before, and the entire situation had left her confused, and doubting herself. Doubting her career. Doubting everything she had worked towards in her life.

She needed help. She needed someone to talk to. She needed a friend, and the Russian only knew one person in the company that she considered to be as such. She sighed, and glanced at her phone, then went back to staring towards the coffee table again. She had already sent the woman a message earlier, asking her to come by. She just hoped she'd get there soon, before she completely fell apart.

Emily was still frowning as she made her way to the elevator. She had been having a quiet day to herself, finishing up on a round at the gym before possibly hitting the movies later tonight, when she'd gotten a message from Natasha of all people. Other than Panther Risako, Natasha Han was possibly the only person from the old league that Emily was still in constant contact with. By and large, the Russian was one of the few people Emily considered a friend here in AFW, and she always appreciate how Natasha rarely hid her feelings and always spoke her mind, albeit brashly and in broken English.

It was for this reason that Emily was so concerned. Te message she had gotten was unusually cryptic for Natasha: "NEED TALK, COME QUICK." If Natasha was unable to simply text her the full message then and there, or even just call her, then something had to be seriously wrong.

Sighing, Emily brushed her pinkish hair out of her face as she tapped the floor number, wearing a a simple white blouse and black denims, and her gym bag still slung over her shoulder. She had been wrapped up in too many of her own worries lately to follow what Natasha had been up to-- aside from some recent new matches-- but something had to be bugging the Russian badly if she was reaching out to Emily like this. Natasha was as stubborn as she was outspoken, and she rarely, if ever, asked for help.

Exiting the elevator, Emily took a deep breath, headed up to Natasha's door, and knocked. "Nat? Are y'there, lass? It's me, Emily."

Natasha remained on her couch, staring into space, lost in her own thoughts. She was gone, her mind in another world, the Russian lost within herself. Her thoughts were a mess, tangled knot of self-doubt and self-loathing, and one that she feared she would never be able to free herself from.

When she heard the knock on her door, though, and heard the voice coming from the other side of the wood, she perked up slightly, lifting her head slightly upwards. She glanced back over her shoulder towards the door to her apartment, and called out to the woman on the other side.

"Yes. Come in, please."

Her words were short, simple, and to the point, and once she had invited Emily in, she turned her gaze away from the door again, signing softly as she began to stare into space once more.

On hearing Natasha's voice, Emily entered the room. She had never been to the Russian's apartment before, and she was greeted by the sight of a pleasantly organized, albeit small, living space, neatly organized with an inviting, comfortable atmosphere. Or, at least, it would have been, if the lights hadn't been turned back to a dim setting.

"Sorry I'm late," she said, as she scanned the room for Natasha. "I 'ad a bit of a bother getting out of my own residence, and---" She trailed off when she finally noticed Natasha huddled on the couch, slumped over and staring down at the coffee table. The Russian's short blonde hair was a frazzled mess, and she looked like she was still wearing whatever she had fallen asleep in. Everything about Natasha's appearance set off immediate and frantic alarm bells in Emily's mind.

"Nat?" Searching for a nearby light dial, Emily illuminated the room and walked hurriedly over to her friend, sitting down on the couch beside her. "Nat, what's wrong?"

Natasha winced, as Emily turned the lights up, blinking a few times as the bright lights came on. Other then that, though, she still didn't move much, barely stirring as Emily hurried over and took a seat on the couch. She remained silent, remained staring into space for almost a full minute, before finally and slowly turning her head towards Emily. She forced herself to smile, a sad, soft smile, as she spoke up, her voice quiet, and full of hesitation.

"Emily. I...am glad you came. I have been wanting...to tell you something."

She sighed, and got to the point, her eyes glancing away from Emily as she continued. "I...am going back to Russia. It is time for me to be going home. I...wanted to be telling you goodbye before I went. That is why I asked you here."

She looked away from Emily fully, and kept speaking. "I am glad we were able to meet. Maybe one day we can be meeting again, da?"

Emily stared in silent confusion at Natasha as she gave her the news. She had been expecting something urgent when she had been summoned here, but she hadn't expected this.

"What?" She angled her head to try too look Natasha in the eye. "Nat, what d'ye mean ye're leaving? This is so sudden! Did something happen?" Already, here mind was running through all the possibilities that could leave Natasha so distraught that she would leave back to Russia. A breakup, perhaps? A death in the family?

Natasha turned her head away as Emily tried to look her in the eye. She didn't want to face her. She couldn't, not with what she was about to say.

"Nyet. Nothing has happened," she answered in a soft voice. "I have simply decided that it is time that I am retiring from wrestling." She raised a hand, trying to wave it dismissively, as if what she was saying should have been obvious, and unimportant, but there was a blatant tone of sadness in her voice. "It is time to to be returning to Russia. I might be fighting here and there, but I am mostly being done with the sport."

She glanced at Emily out of the corner of her eye, and then away again. "It is nothing important. I just wanted to be letting you know before I left."

Emily had thought that Natasha couldn't surprise her more than she already had, but the Russian's next answer had proven her wrong. "Retiring?" The word seemed alien and strange coming from Natasha's mouth. Natasha Han was a natural born fighter, someone who loved wrestling and loved being in the ring, and she was damned good at it too. Emily had fought her three times so far, and in all three of those times, she had come to admire the other woman's relentless, never-say-die attitude. The last thing she ever thought she'd hear was Natasha's plans to retire.

"Nat, this isn't like you!" Emily protested. "Ye're not the type to just call it quits like this! I'm serious now, what 'appened? What was it that's got ye so down like this?"

Despite herself, Natasha couldn't help but smile, a real smile, just a little bit. The look on Emily's face at Natasha's news, and the sound of her voice, were a much needed reminder that she really did have a friend in the AFW. She felt a pang of regret afterwards, and began to wish that she and Emily had spent more time together.

"I have been spending the last two years training like dog, working as hard as is possible to be the best wrestler one can be. I have also lost four of my matches in a row." She shrugged, and lowered her gaze to the floor, staring at the carpet sadly. Her voice grew softer, quieter, as she began to think back over those four devastating, terrible losses.

"It is obvious that I am not being good at wrestling. It is time for me to be calling it quits and moving on. That is all."

Emily blinked in surprise. She'd little of Natasha's most recent matches-- save for two bouts against some up-and-comer named Valley Doll-- but she'd never heard anything about any sort of losing streak. She couldn't imagine any losses so terrible that they would discourage someone like Natasha.

"What do you mean 'not good at wrestling'?" she demanded, suddenly finding herself becoming inexplicably angry. "That's bollocks, and you know it! Aye, I've heard of this Valley Doll girl, and aye, she got lucky against you twice! But Nat, ye've fought and beaten girls who were twice the wrestler she is! Ye've held yer own against the likes of Yukiko, and Hazumi, and ye've held yer own against Minami Toshimi better than any of us!" She calmed down a little as that little explosion ended. "Ye're one of the best of us, Nat, so I just can't believe you when ye say ye're no good."