Eyes on the Prize

Tokyo Hilton Hotel
Tokyo, Japan

An oval glass desk stood bathed in the light that streamed through the window, into the living room of a well-appointed suite. Spread across the surface of the desk were several brochures advertising various local attractions, from Tokyo Tower to Daikanransha, the second tallest Ferris wheel in the world. Aurora Graves flipped through each one, holding a Japanese-English dictionary in her other hand, squinting as she tried to make out the hiragana and katakana.

Aurora: Ugh! Half this shit is in kanji... I HATE kanji!

She slammed the dictionary down in frustration and leaned back in her chair. Groaning, she let her head fall back, her eyes fixed on the ceiling as she muttered under her breath.

Aurora: ....lousy fucking kanji... can’t make any sense of this shit...

Damon: Maybe we should have picked up a different dictionary...

Aurora looked up to see her husband walk into the room, taking a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of the desk. He draped an arm across the glass, holding up his hand with his fingers spread. Aurora immediately reciprocated, interlocking her fingers with his. He looked straight into her eyes, offering a comforting smile.

Damon: Or, we could just stick to places where we actually know what they’re saying?

Aurora: You know, as easy as that would make things, I had really hoped to come away from this tour of Japan with a little more knowledge of the Japanese language outside of “Bishōjo senshi sērāmūn” (Pretty Soldier Sailor Moon).

She exhaled deeply, air filling her cheeks before spilling from her lips like a deflated balloon. She slumped back into her chair, her eyes cast downward in disappointment, mainly in herself for not picking up the language as quickly as she had hoped. Damon smiled, as if to put her at ease.

Damon: Well, at least you made the attempt. Perhaps if we had more time to devote to taking in the local culture, we’d have had more time to pick up on the language. But hey, look at the bright side. Next, we’re touring Canada. You can work on your French.

Aurora rolled her eyes, then shot her husband a look that suggested “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Aurora: Or, I can just be grateful for the fact that they also speak English there.

Damon: Fair enough.

A brief smirk flashed on her face, before quickly fading into a distant gaze, as if she were simply staring off into space. He could tell she had something other than tourism on her mind.

Damon: Alright, Harley... I know there’s something else bothering you. Out with it, already.

Aurora: I suppose there’s no use trying to hide anything from you...

Damon: You already know I can read you like a book. Might as well crack the cover.

Aurora gave Damon a playful wink as a soft giggle escaped her mouth.

Aurora: That almost sounded dirty...

He frowned a little, crossing his arms as he tilted his head.

Damon: Don’t change the subject. What’s eating you, and no cracks about being at the top of the food chain!

Aurora: It’s just that...

She stood up from her chair, walking over toward the window. She leaned against the wall, staring out at the sprawling city below. A sigh puffed out of her mouth, forming a brief cloud of steam against the glass before fading almost as quickly as it had appeared.

Aurora: You ever notice how lately, not a day hardly goes by that someone either announces that they’re pregnant or complains about morning sickness?

Damon: Harley, don’t do this to yourself....

Damon furrowed his brow as he walked toward her, reaching out as if to put a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, shaking her head.

Aurora: No, it’s not what you think. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’ll never be able to carry a child. And while I can’t help but feel a little bummed that I’ll never be able to look down at my own swollen stomach and see a foot or an elbow poke me from the inside....

Damon pulled his head back, half cringing, half sneering as he pictured what Aurora was describing.

Damon: Whoa... that sounds like something out of one of those Alien movies...

Aurora smiled faintly.

Aurora: Funny, Alicia said that’s a fairly accurate description of what it looks like. But it’s got me thinking. I’ve seen you with Alicia and Jason’s three kids; I know you would make an amazing father.

Damon: What are you saying? Are you thinking of looking into adoption?

She pursed her lips, slowly nodding her head.

Aurora: Well, that’s one possibility. There IS another option – one that would allow us to have a child that was biologically ours.

Damon gave his wife an odd look, not entirely sure what she was talking about.

Damon: Ooookay... I’m confused. If you can’t...

Aurora: I still have my ovaries; if we were to go through a surrogate...

He put his hands up in a sort of “pump the brakes” gesture.

Damon: Hold up a minute, now.

Aurora: That’s where a doctor takes...

Damon: I know what it is, Harley. But what brought this on all of a sudden?

She looked into Damon’s eyes, shaking her head and smiling, her words punctuated by the hint of laughter.

Aurora: I’m not saying we should start right away; these things take a lot of planning. But maybe we should start thinking about our options. More importantly...

Damon: What is it?

Aurora: First thing’s first... We take back the Redemption Tag Team Championships. Once we bring those home to Vegas, we can focus on other things. Besides, I want to get our house built before we start talking about filling it.

A look of mild relief took over his face as he nodded.

Damon: Now THAT is an idea I can agree with!

Aurora’s eyes stared straight to his stomach as it let out a rather loud growl. Damon smiled, mildly embarrassed.

Damon: Uh... I guess that means we should go get some food, eh?

Aurora: I hear they have a Taco Bell out here...

Damon: You mean “Takoberu”!

Aurora stared at her husband through narrowed eyelids, clearly not impressed with his horribly exaggerated Japanese accent.

Aurora: Puddin’?

Damon: Yes...?

He tried to maintain his cheesy grin, but it faded when he realized his wife was having absolutely none of it.

Aurora: NEVER do that again!

Begrudgingly, Damon nodded his head, but the smile quickly returned as he wrapped an arm around his wife.

Damon: Actually, I have a better idea... how about we go get some shabu shabu? I found this great place near Shinjuku Station....

Aurora and Damon continued their conversation as they walked out of the room.



Ryougoku Sumo Hall
Tokyo, Japan

The camera zoomed in on a massive glass-enclosed trophy case, the centerpiece of which was a gleaming silver cup that sat on a pedestal draped in rich purple satin. A five-petaled flower was embroidered in gold onto the fabric, mirroring the same emblem that appeared on the black drape that hung at the top of the case.

In the reflection on the glass, a female figure stood in the shadows, her identity obscured by the glare of the lights reflecting off of the various trophies inside the case. As the woman began to speak, her identity was made clear. The voice was stern, but with a slight hint of bitterness, as if the words left a foul taste in her mouth.

Woman’s Voice: Sunday... February 12, 2017....

It was a night that as far as I’m concerned, I’d like to pretend never happened, but I can’t.

The camera pulled back, showing Aurora Graves standing with her hands on her hips. She stared into the trophy case, her eyes slowly scanning each piece from bottom to top.

Aurora: To say that that night was NOT one of the highlights of our careers is a HUGE understatement. In fact, if it was possible, I’d go back in time and erase that night from history. Hell... erase that whole fucking WEEK while we’re at it. Unfortunately, time travel technology is beyond our current capabilities, so the best we can hope for is to use our rematch clause and show Radicalliance that while they may have managed to get the titles away from us during a time when we weren’t exactly on the same page, they’re about to find that now that we’re even more in sync than we were before, keeping us from those belts is going to be infinitely harder.

Let’s just call a spade a spade, folks. Radicalliance, you may have gotten the win that night, but as it stands right now, you two are little more than placeholder champions. You’re only holding onto those belts for us until the time comes when we take them back. Frankly, the fact that my waist has been devoid of championship gold for as long as it has is unacceptable. But the mistake that was made on that fateful Sunday night will be remedied at Ultimate Resolve, when my husband and I take back OUR Tag Team Championships.

Her face turned toward the camera, piercing through the lens with her ocean blue eyes. She walked down the hallway with the camera keeping pace until she came to a door that led into the arena. Walking through the doors, she passed several rows of seats, stopping at the railing to look out at the ring. High in the rafters, the usual banners depicting the sumo wrestlers that normally competed here were temporarily replaced by banners of the Redemption Wrestling superstars that would soon grace the ring in the center of the arena. More banners hung from the railing that separated the upper level from the lower level that read “Ultimate Resolve” in English and Japanese.

Aurora: Ultimate Resolve... the show is aptly named, when you really think about it. What better name to pick for the show where the Tag Team Title situation “resolves,” placing the gold right back where it belongs? A night where the titles come back to a pair of champions that won’t stand around and throw a fucking party?

That’s right... two weeks ago, while my husband and I were both doing what we’re paid to do – get in the ring and WRESTLE – the goofballs that held the belts decided to break out the balloons and confetti. What the hell is this? Chuck E. Cheese? To be honest, I was halfway expecting the “champs” to invite all of the kids at ringside for pony rides! The Redemption Wrestling fans deserve champions that will get in that ring and show them why we are one of the best tag teams in the company, and we sure as hell didn’t get to this point by throwing stupid parties.

She rolled her eyes, a look of disgust twisting her beautiful features into a vicious sneer. She now stood with her arms crossed, her nails digging into the flesh of her biceps. The sneer faded into a smile laced heavily with sarcasm as she raised a finger, waving it back and forth in front of her face.

Aurora: But wait... there’s another team being thrown into the mix here... the Boot Licking Douchebags, Silas Subhuman and Luke Knux. On the one hand, we have a guy so pathetic, his status as less than human is in the very name he carries with unabashed pride. Fine... if you want to be remembered as a failure, be my guest. But don’t think for one second that you and that Adrian Smith wanna-be can just bitch your way into championship contention.

Aurora shook her head, looking almost as if she regretted that comparison. Almost. She ran a hand over her face, then waved her hand as if to erase what she had said from her mind.

Aurora: Nah... I shouldn’t compare Luke Knux to Adrian Smith... he’s not fit to string Smith’s Les Paul, let alone a pair of wrestling boots. But then again, you had to cheat your way into a title shot, because you know that it’s the only way you’d ever get anywhere in this company. Sure says a lot about you when you need to use a foreign object against a wrestler half your size. You’re nothing more than a couple of chicken-shit cowards.

She leaned against the railing, propping her elbows up as she sneered.

Aurora: One last thing to both of these teams.... It doesn’t matter what you guys try to pull at Ultimate Resolve, though. Because at the end of the day, the result will be the same. When Damon and I first started this tour of Japan, we were the Tag Team Champions. At Ultimate Resolve, those titles are coming home with Rebel Ink!

She made a motion with her hands across her waist, glaring into the camera with a wicked grin on her face. She gave the camera a final nod of her head, then silently mouthed one final word...

“Soon.”

The camera then followed her finger as she pointed up at the banner that bore the likenesses of herself and her husband.