Wrestling

The hot water hammered duwn against the ceramic tiles, filling the private shower stall with thick clouds of steam.

Jey leaned his forehead against the wet wall, letting the water cascade over his shoulders and down his spine. The physical toll of the match against Nakamuro was finally beginning to settle. His right elbow, the one that had delivered the decisive Ray Gun to the veteran’s skull, felt numb. His neck, having absorbed the brutal impact of the top-rope Poisonrana due to an awkward landing, was stiffening by the second.

He reached up, turning the metal dial to shut off the water. The sudden silence in the stall was unmistakable, broken up only by the sound of water dripping from his chin onto the drain grate below.

He grabbed a fresh white towel off the rack, drying his hair very well before wrapping it around his waist. He pushed the stall door open, stepping out into the locker room assigned to him for the evening. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.

Bambietta was already there. She sat on the edge of a leather bench, one leg crossed over the other, her phone in her hand. She looked up as the bathroom door clicked open.

"You took your time," she noted, her eyes quickly scanning his torso for any new, concerning bruises. She was always assessing any damage on him.

"I was trying to heat up my neck," Jey said, walking over to his open gym bag. He pulled out a fresh pair of dark jeans and a plain black t-shirt. "Nakamuro doesn’t lay his strikes in soft, I’ll tell you that. Every single arm felt like I was getting hit with a brick."

"Tanaka said you earned respect out there," Bambietta said, tossing him a roll of athletic tape so he could wrap his wrist. "Mr. Shin didn’t come down to the locker room, but Ryoman sent a production assistant to tell us the front office is very pleased with the crowd reactions. You beat Strong Style."

Jey grunted, pulling his t-shirt over his head. "I am not doing that again next week. If I had a choice that is."

He finished dressing and grabbed a bag of ice Bambietta had pre-arranged from the medical staff, pressing it against the back of his neck. She knew a lot of staff at JW, infact, not up to a while ago...she was staff. She still helped with attires from time to time.

He walked over to the medium suzed flat-screen monitor mounted on the cinderblock wall of the locker room. The broadcast feed was streaming live feed of the arena.

The Grand Auditorium was still buzzing frantically. The fans had barely had time to recover from Jey’s grueling victory, Rika defending her JW women’s championship, a few other midcard matches, and now the main event of the television taping was underway.

"Who’s closing the show?" Jey asked, pulling up a folding chair next to Bambietta.

"Briggs," Bambietta answered, nodding toward the screen. "Tyler Briggs against Jasun. Singles match, but Moonie is out there at ringside."

Jey focused on the monitor.

Tyler Briggs, the rookie cruiserweight, was pacing the corner of the ring. He was dressed in his aerodynamic blue and white tights, his hands covered in his signature gripping gloves. "Mr boundless stamina."

It was hard for Jey to look at him and not remember the brutal beating Billy Bones had subjected him to just weeks prior, spiking him with a Tiger Driver and a Mexican Destroyer simply to send a message.

But tonight, Briggs looked focused. He was bouncing on his feet, his eyes locked onto his opponent.

Across the ring stood Jasun, one half of the reigning Japan Wrestling Tag Team Champions, "Sun and Moon."

Jasun was leaning casually against the turnbuckle pads. He wore bright, obnoxious neon yellow and black tights with long, flowing tassels attached to his boots and wrists. He was chewing a piece of gum, a thoroughly arrogant smirk plastered across his face. Down on the floor, pacing the perimeter of the barricade, was his tag team partner, Moonie. Moonie mirrored his partner’s aesthetic, though his gear was a stark silver and black.

Together, Sun and Moon were a nightmare to deal with. They possessed a high-flying, synchronized, and deeply cocky style that infuriated traditionalists and generated massive heat from the Japanese crowds. Even in a singles bout, fighting one meant fighting both...somehow.

[Braxton: Main event time, ladies and gentlemen. One half of the Tag Team Champions, Jasun, perhaps looking to make an example out of the rookie sensation, Tyler Briggs.]

[Tanaka: Briggs has an uphill battle tonight, Braxton. Jasun is a phenomenal athlete, but part of the threat is pacing around outside the ring. Moonie is not going to just stand by and watch his partner not win.]

The referee, a seasoned official who looked like he was already infinitely fed up with Sun and Moon, pointed to the timekeeper.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Jasun casually stepped out of the corner, blowing a bubble with his gum. He didn’t raise his hands to a fighting stance, rather he just extended his right arm, offering a test of strength, openly mocking the rookie’s frame. Even though they were more or less of the same build.

Briggs didn’t want to play his games. The cruiserweight surged forward, ignoring the offered hand, and shot in low. He wrapped his arms around Jasun’s waist, executing a lightning-fast go-behind, and took the tag champion down to the mat with a beautiful amateur wrestling takedown.

The crowd let out a sharp cheer of approval.

Jasun scrambled, clearly surprised by the aggression. He rolled to his stomach, trying to push up, but Briggs seamlessly transitioned into a front facelock, wrenching Jasun’s neck and keeping him grounded.

"The kid is quick," Jey noted from the locker room, adjusting the ice pack on his neck. "He’s not letting Jasun dictate the pace."

"He has to be," Bambietta replied, her eyes fixed on the monitor. "Nobody knows when Moonie is going to get involved."

On the screen, Jasun managed to get a boot planted on the canvas. Using his slightest of size advantage, he powered up to his feet, shoving Briggs backward into the ropes. As Briggs rebounded, Jasun threw a wild lariat.

Briggs ducked underneath the swinging arm, hit the opposite ropes for maximum acceleration, and soared through the air. He wrapped his legs tightly around Jasun’s neck, using his own momentum to snap off a flawless flying headscissors takedown.

Jasun crashed hard onto his shoulder, the gum flying out of his mouth. He rolled out of the ring, dropping down to the padded floor to regroup.

Moonie immediately rushed over to his partner, waving his hands at the referee to keep Briggs back. Moonie grabbed Jasun by the shoulders, shouting words of encouragement, trying to slow the tempo of the match down to a crawl.

[Braxton: Tyler Briggs is operating on a different frequency right now! He is overwhelming the champion!]

[Tanaka: Sun and Moon love to dictate the pace, Braxton. They want you to play their game. Briggs is tearing up the playbook.]

Briggs wasn’t interested in waiting. He hit the ropes again, building terrifying speed. He sprinted across the canvas, preparing to launch himself over the top rope to take out both men.

Seeing the incoming missile, Moonie panicked. He grabbed Jasun by the arm and yanked his partner out of the way, leaving Briggs with an empty target.

Briggs realized it at the last possible second. Instead of diving, he slid feet-first, catching himself on the ring apron. He popped up to his feet, glaring down at the tag champions.

The fans clapped in a rapid, up-tempo rhythm, acknowledging the rookie’s incredible spatial awareness and body control.

"He’s got the crowd in the palm of his hand," Jey murmured.

"Watch," Bambietta warned, pointing at the corner of the screen.

Instead of attacking Briggs, Jasun stopped the action and was distracting the referee by complaining about an eye poke from a fan, Moonie took advantage of the blind spot Jasuns’s nonsensical complaint opened up. Even Briggs was confused on what to do next.

Moonie swept his arm out, grabbing Briggs by the ankle and yanking his foot right off the ring apron.

Briggs fell hard, his jaw smacking against the unforgiving edge of the ring. He collapsed to the floor in a heap.

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