09-19-2020, 04:15 PM
09-23-2020, 08:04 PM
09-23-2020, 08:17 PM
A Hero's Past and Promises for the Present!! Sparking motivation for the coming bout!!!
Subarashi had spent most of the ten-man tag match at Apocalypse trying to figure out which of those involved had been possessed by his demonic foe. It had led to him suffering through a rather distracted evening at the office. With so many moving pieces and so much action going on at once, it was tough to focus on his mission, let alone not getting his head knocked off by an opponent. What further added to his frustrations was that of the nine other combatants, none of them were particularly demonic. The closest was probably Giovanni Aries. But while his actions were certainly evil, they were without a doubt his own. When Clyde Sutter attacked Cid-kun, it seemed like a possibility. But again, these ended up being the natural machinations of Sutter’s personality. By the time Kelsei Adamson-Mason had scored the pin on Gavin Taylor, it became rather apparent that Subarashi had been played. There had been no demons. And the mere threat of one had kept Subarashi completely off his game. It made him upset. He liked confronting problems head on, going toe-to-toe with an enemy he could easily identify. The demon from his dreams hadn’t been playing that way. He was playing Chess. Or checkers. Or Underwater 3-D Backgammon. A game of strategy that Subarashi was extremely ill-equipped for.
The thought of that silver-tongued bastard snickering away at Subarashi’s loss made his blood boil. Perhaps from now on instead of confronting the bastard in his dreams, it would be better to ignore him. Taking a demon at face value had never been a wise decision, and that was proof positive that away from the comforts of Japan, Subarashi hadn’t been operating at his best. These were rookie mistakes he’d never have made in front of Kaguya-dono or the Master.
It was time to put the woes of Apocalypse behind him and do the only thing he could. Move forward.
—
The days of living out of his stolen, hot-wired Subaru were soon to be behind Subarashi as his first few paychecks from Supreme Championship Wrestling cleared, but truth be told, he had gotten attached to the thing. It had been incredibly reliable, getting him around the country. He was very grateful on this day that the air conditioning worked so well as he sat in the heat. Miami in the fall was a scorching hell-scape compared to the rest of the country. Subarashi preferred more temperate climates, but work was work and today his mission brought him to a hospital in downtown Miami, Florida where he sat, performing reconnaissance. A bouquet of flowers sat in the passenger seat of the Subaru and Subarashi munched on an entire carrot while hitting next on his iPod, looking for a song. He skipped a few regular songs, feeling indecisive. Bands like Dragonforce, Econoline Crush, Mindless Self Indulgence. They were regular spins on his stereo, but he needed something better to suit his mood.
And all at once he found what he was looking for as the upbeat 80’s pop jam banged out from his speakers.
“Where have all the good men gone?
And where are all the Gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?”
Subarashi bobbed his head and tapped his foot to the floor of his car as Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out For a Hero” began to play. He chomped and finished the last of his carrot so he could add his voice to hers.
“Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn
And I dream of what I need!”
Subarashi imagined that this was the rallying call of all those in need of him. That those beset by demonic evil world round were joining together to sing about how they needed him now, more than ever.
“I need a hero!
I’m holding out for a hero til the end of the night!
He’s gotta be strong and he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight!
In his mind, Subarashi absolutely was that hero. He needed to be.
“I need a hero!
I’m holding out from here until the morning light!
He’s gotta be sure and it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life!”
Subarashi continued to belt out the song, uncaring that one of his windows was down and that he was serenading everyone in the near vicinity. The singing along with the mask made Subarashi look like an escapee from the psych ward, but he was unbothered. As the song petered out to a close, he reached down to smash that repeat button, but hit pause instead as his reconnaissance finally had a breakthrough. Out of the hospital exit came the subject of this particular stake out. Subarashi picked up his mini-binoculars and held them to his eyes to confirm that this was indeed, Hannah Hodges.
The wife of SCW star and Subarashi’s soon-to-be partner Matt Hodges had been visiting her mother in the hospital on this day. Subarashi knew this because he was really good at stalking research. Visual confirmation wasn’t enough, however. He needed to be absolutely sure before he continued to stalk observe this woman.
Subarashi shut the car off in a hurry and grabbed the flowers. Composing himself, he got out and headed toward the hospital entrance. His pace was brisk and he timed it so that he and Hannah Hodges would cross paths on the sidewalk just before she could get to her car. The woman was looking down, focused on her own thoughts but there was only one way to react upon seeing Subarashi’s masked visage crossing your path. She stared at him and her mouth dropped open a bit as they passed. He let her get a few steps beyond him before he turned around with a gasp and shouted.
“Wait!”
Hannah jumped and yelped, as one might, turning to face what she thought might be a potential assailant. Subarashi put his hands up to assure he meant no harm. He spoke, letting the Japanese accent come out incredibly thick.
“You, you are Hannah Hodges, yes?” he said.
“W-why?” she said, understandably hesitant to give her identity up to a masked stranger.
“Oh, because! I am big fan, Matt Hodges! Number one fan!” Subarashi said, giving her the most sincere thumbs up and cheesy grin he could muster. Hannah’s body relaxed at this, being put at ease. It was very believable for some weirdo wrestling fan to be running around with a mask on.
“Oh, oh okay.” she replied.
“Tell him good luck! Win all matches!”
Hannah was nodding and shuffling her feet away toward the parking lot as she said “Okay, thank you! I will tell him!”
And that was the confirmation Subarashi needed. He smiled and waved at her before turning to go into the hospital. Hannah looked quite relieved to see him go as she hurried off to her car. Subarashi walked through the automatic doors of the hospital and ignored the concerned looks he got from those around him. He stepped around a corner to hide and peered out the glass doors, waiting for Hodges’ car to leave. The woman at the help desk observed only for a moment before speaking.
“Sir, can I—help you?” she said.
“Sssh!” Subarashi replied, bringing a finger to his lips. The woman looked surprised, then annoyed.
“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask what you’re do-”
“Quiet! Here! Present for you!” Subarashi yelled and then whipped his bouquet of flowers at her, eliciting a yelp and some expletives. But he was already out the door, running to the Subaru. Hannah’s car had left and he needed to follow. In a flash he was behind the wheel and peeling out of the hospital parking lot, in hot pursuit. He sped through traffic, darting in and out of a few lanes before locking in onto Hannah’s white Chevy Malibu and slowing down to match her pace. Vehicular pursuit wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d seen enough of it in the movies. He turned Bonnie Tyler back on and bobbed his head, mouthing the words as they traded inner-city traffic soon for suburban residential areas. After about twenty minutes of driving he figured they were getting close and he fell back even further, waiting for that victorious moment where Hannah’s turn signal went on.
And there it was. Pursuit ended. Hannah Hodges turned left and into her rather long drive-way. Subarashi sighed and slowly drove the Subaru up and came to a stop across the street from the drive-way, watching Hannah get out of her car and head inside. The nostalgia of it, sitting outside of the Hodges estate, was not lost on Subarashi. But he had work to do.
Surveying the land, he noticed the house was surrounded at the back by thick woodland. This would be perfect. He would drive around to the back part of that forest and find somewhere to stow the Subaru. Then he’d hike his way back to the Hodges estate and find a nice tree to observe from. Then his job would begin for real, scouting Matt Hodges and his wife Hannah for any sign of demonic possession. He threw the Subaru in drive and started looking for a place off the road where he could store it. He drove for a bit, looping around the opposite side of the forest, estimating how long the hike would have to be. A nice hike in this heat would do well to clear his mind and get his blood pumping for the task at hand.
After about a half an hour he had finally stowed the Subaru off the road and behind some shrubs. He put everything he needed into his satchel as he prepared to leave. Water. His binoculars. A compass. A few more carrots. And of course, his supply of Demon Reach. The specially doctored medicine that allowed him to open up his perception of the world and glimpse into the demon realm. He would take that when it was time to peer behind the veil and see if anything was possessing someone in the Hodges household. Subarashi grabbed a walking stick and his satchel, slamming the trunk of his car and turned to set out with a determined grin on his face.
“Don’t worry Hannah Hodges. The hero you’ve been holding out for is on his way!”
—
About an hour later, Subarashi had arrived nearly in the Hodges’ backyard. The thick vegetation provided cover as he scouted out for the perfect tree to climb up into for observation. It didn’t take him long to find one that worked. Nodding, he reached into his satchel and got a dip of his Demon Reach out and put it in his mouth, before beginning to climb. Once he reached the branch he wanted to perch out on, he got his binoculars out and took a look, hoping to get a straight forward glimpse of some demonic activity straight away. No such luck for the intrepid demon hunter, but such was to be expected. The only room in the Hodges home he could see into was a rather garish shade of pink. That seemed odd enough. What could get Matt Hodges to allow a room in his house to be painted that color? Demonic possession, perhaps? The Demon Reach was just starting to kick in now however, and Subarashi couldn’t see anything foul, other than the shade of paint.
And so he waited. This part of the job wasn’t necessarily the most thrilling, but it was just as necessary as bringing an avenging blade down on some demonic scourge. Subarashi wondered if he’d ever gone to such lengths to help someone before. And for the second time in as many weeks, Morio Arikawa came into his memories. The owner of the Arikawa Underground Casino had been how he found his entry into this life, after all. His thoughts trailed back to those times, where he lived as an entirely different person…
—
Japan, Four Years Ago…
It was a Friday night at the Arikawa Casino and as one might expect, the environment was raucous. Drinks flowed, money was spent, drugs were consumed, music was played, and bright lights flashed. All of it was make-up and concealer on the face of the worst human impulses on display. Here was a house of greed, of gluttony, of debauchery. Here in this house of degeneracy the lowest parts of Japanese high society came to let themselves go.
A beautiful young singer crooned her song on stage as chips clacked and bells went off. Those around the dice table cheered as a fortuitous number was hit and the dealers scrambled through getting their payouts. The little white ball spun furiously around the roulette wheel as gamblers looked on, hopeful that fate would make it land on one of their lucky numbers or colors. Men in suits sat smoking cigars at Blackjack tables, engaged in an endless battle of numbers to see who could come closest to that mythical twenty one.
This was the environment where Subarashi had found employment, and a home. Among the seedy denizens of the Tokyo underground was where he had spent the better part of the past year, working as one of the higher ranking members of Morio Arikawa’s security team.
Mr. Arikawa had been incredibly generous to Subarashi. Offering him a place to stay, and helping him learn the basics of Japanese. All Subarashi had to do was keep up the same energy he’d had that night in the Rappongi alley. Since that night, Mr. Arikawa had become rather paranoid about sneak attacks and he’d more than doubled the amount of personal security around him at all times. Usually Subarashi was among them, following the businessman out and about on evenings when he wasn’t at the casino and sometimes he worked with the security unit assigned to his private offices at the casino. Subarashi wasn’t the only foreign member of Mr. Arikawa’s security detail, but he was still the only one referred to as gaijin by most of the staff. The derision and hazing only lasted for a little while though as Subarashi put his head down and worked hard, both to learn the ropes of the job and to learn the language. Most among the staff respected the hard work he was putting in, but there were still some who didn’t like him.
One such was Karim. A hulking monster of a man from Kazakhstan. If Subarashi had the nerve, he could’ve also called Karim a gaijin whenever the man derided him, but Subarashi thought it best to pick better battles. Especially since he and Karim were often on the same assignment, like they were on this Friday night.
The two were working the high limit room. There were only three tables opened for the night with a few regulars, but the highest limit table was what Subarashi had his eye on. A squirrelly young man in a suit named Fujin was playing there and he was showing all the signs of trouble. Though he was mostly battling at even and not losing a ton of money, whenever he would lose a big hand he would pound the table and shout expletives. His outbursts would leave the high limit room in silence for a few moments before the usual chatter resumed. Fujin’s hair was a mess, his suit was disheveled, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in well over twenty four hours. He also had the telltale sniffle of a cocaine binge. As the current shoe finished and the dealer began to shuffle, Fujin barked a few expletives and lit a cigarette.
Subarashi looked over to Karim who met his gaze and rolled his eyes. As the shoe started up again, Subarashi decided to do something else he’d been practicing since this job started, card counting. It was rather simple. Low cards added a positive value, middle cards added none, and high cards were minus. Casinos in Las Vegas hated card counting, as it was a practice used to disarm the house of its advantage. Mr. Arikawa didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Subarashi simply did it to pass the time when his assignment for the night was rather boring.
As the night progressed, Fujin’s bets and behavior started to get more erratic. He yelled something rude at one of the other guests at one point and Karim took a step closer to the table, his presence alone enough to quiet Fujin. What really got Subarashi’s attention however was that the true count of the current shoe being dealt was absurdly high. Meaning that Fujin should be winning more often than he wasn’t. Only, as more and more expletives erupted from the enraged young man, that wasn’t the case. He was getting crushed despite increasing his bets at what should have been the right time.
Fujin upped his bet to the maximum and got a pair of eights showing against the dealer’s six. He immediately shoved out more money and told the dealer to split the eights, as was the basic strategy. On his first hand, a two came out and he immediately doubled, meaning he would get one more card. A king of diamonds came out, giving him a twenty for that hand and putting him in a commanding position to win. On the next eight, came a three. This gave him eleven. He doubled again, and out came a nine. He had two twenties both doubled at table maximum against the dealer’s six. This hand should have been massively profitable. Especially once the dealer flipped his card over, showing a ten underneath. A sixteen. There was only one number that could actually hurt Fujin next. In a six deck shoe, that meant twenty four cards out of three hundred and twelve.
And it came out. The dealer slung a five out of the shoe, giving them a twenty one to defeat both of Fujin’s max bet, doubled twenties. Subarashi was in awe, the odds of that happening were so impossibly bad that it beggared belief. He was so focused on the absurdity of the hand that he didn’t notice when the dealer came out to lock up Fujin’s losing bets, the man whirled a knife out from his sleeve and SLAMMED it down on the dealer’s hand.
There were about six or seven screams that erupted from the high limit room right then. The dealer, a howl of pain. The pit supervisor, a shout of surprise. The other guests, screams of pure horror. And of course, Fujin’s frothing yowl of rage and agony as Karim twisted his arm and broke it while slamming his face into the table and then dragging him down to the ground. Subarashi was on the move, instead focusing on how to help the injured dealer, whose hand was now pinned to the blackjack table and leaking blood all over a mess of chips and cards.
The dealer was a quiet and kind older fellow named Sanshiro. He’d always been very nice to Subarashi so he did his best to try and calm him down while waiting for a medic. It looked bad though, he doubted if the man would ever deal another card. Help arrived from the back as Subarashi comforted Sanshiro, assuring him that he would be alright. Everything was a blur. The pit supervisor managed to get the lid up and locked over top of the chips on the table despite the impaled dealer, and Subarashi heard his name called in Karim’s voice. As a few other people started to work on trying to save Sanshiro’s hand, Subarashi marched off into the back. Where Fujin had been dragged by Karim. He imagined the rest of the night wasn’t going to go well for the young man. Subarashi had never seen a guest assault one of the dealers, let alone with a knife.
He marched through the well-lit back hallways, following the shouts. He wondered what would possess someone to come into a place like this and act like that. Everyone knew the score when they came to the Arikawa Casino. It was not a place for the reputable. It was a den of the deviant. Yakuza were the most frequent customers, and as such, Yakuza were the ones who most wanted to see the operation continue to run smoothly. Morio’s family was Yakuza in all but name as well, and Mr. Arikawa himself was a key part of the Tokyo underground. A year here had stripped Subarashi of all his naivety. He had several guesses as to how the rest of Fujin’s evening was going to go. He caught up to Karim just as they were reaching Mr. Arikawa’s private offices. A few high profile men and women were already leaving, giving disdainful looks to the scene being made by Fujin. Word of what had happened had already reached Mr. Arikawa and he’d been forced to dismiss his guests.
When they went through the doors, they found Morio Arikawa seated at his massive mahogany desk, flanked on either side by three suited security guards, each of whom Subarashi knew well as men who were all business in the realm of hurting others.
“Fuck you Arikawa you cheating dog!” spat Fujin, before having the back of his knee kicked and getting shoved to the ground by Karim.
“Show respect to Mr. Arikawa.” Karim said. Fujin growled. Mr. Arikawa stood up and walked around his desk. Short and wiry as he was, the boss had every reason to feel confident. Eight of his best security guards were here.
“Fujin-chan.” Mr. Arikawa started, immediately talking down at the young man in front of him. “You make my Friday night so much more difficult. I have busy tables. I have good music. I have excited guests. I have a private meeting in my office. And yet, all of that is interrupted because you decide you don’t have to follow rules. You sneak a knife into my casino. I already let you bring drugs in here without bothering you, and that still is not enough. Not only do you sneak a weapon in, but you make a scene and ATTACK one of my dealers. Now, my high limit room is empty. My guests are restless. And I have one less dealer. How can we fix this?”
Fujin snarled up at him. Subarashi noticed now that his nose was bleeding. This could have been from the cocaine but was probably from Karim’s treatment instead.
“Your fucking scum dealer has been cheating me all night and you know it, you fucking prick!” he shouted, spittle and blood spewing from his mouth.
“My dealers never cheat, Fujin. You know how I know this? Because there is one thing that keeps a casino operating above all else. And that’s integrity. Something you and your idiot drug peddling father have never had.”
With that, Fujin tried to get up and leap at the boss, only to be squeezed back to the ground.
“Don’t you fucking speak of my father!” he said through gritted teeth, squealing a bit at the pressure Karim put on him.
“I only speak of your father because he’s the lone reason I’m not having Karim take you out back and beat you to death right now, Fujin. But your idiot father is also the reason you behave this way. It’s the reason you think you can come into an establishment like mine and make such harsh accusations while shouting and scaring people and filling your nose with cocaine. So while he keeps you alive tonight, he’s also to blame for why you’ll be returning home with two broken arms.” Mr. Arikawa said, and Fujin’s eyes went wide.
“Two? But I onl-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!! FUCK!!!!”
Without being told, Karim twisted around and snapped Fujin’s other arm, no doubt breaking it in several places. After the screaming quieted to a gnarled whimper, Mr. Arikawa started again.
“So I already have your money, and the sight of you walking around in arm casts for the next few months will be the example others need not to behave that way in here, there’s still the problem of my missing dealer. If you had any friends Fujin, I’d take one of their hands. But no one ever comes with you because you’re obnoxious.”
Fujin just groaned at that, tears flowing down his face with his eyes closed. Mr. Arikawa sneered down at the broken, crying young man for a moment before jerking his head in the direction of the exit.
“Get him out of my sight. Take him upstairs and get him a taxi to the hospital. I’ll call his father soon to tell him what happened here.” he said.
Without a word, Karim lifted Fujin up and dragged him out the door. Subarashi probably should have followed to help get the taxi to the hospital but he was still a little stunned. Even though he knew what sort of violence went on behind the scenes here sometimes, it was still his first time seeing it up front like this.
“And now I am down a high limit dealer going into a busy weekend.” he said, walking back around his desk and sitting down with a huff. “Sanshiro was one of my best. Replacing him will be almost impossible. I could promote someone else, but they won’t be able to do what Sanshiro does…”
As Mr. Arikawa continued to ponder out loud what to do about the situation, Subarashi’s spoke without really thinking.
“I could try, Mr. Arikawa.” he said, cutting off the boss’s thought process. Mr. Arikawa looked up from his desk with a smirk.
“You think you could deal blackjack, Subarashi?” he said.
“Yes. I’ve been watching the games for a long time. It doesn’t seem impossible. It would take me a little while to get used to handling the chips and cards but I know the rules of the game and what order everything happens in.”
Saying this all out loud made Subarashi really think about how he didn’t enjoy working with security much at all. Being charged with committing acts of wanton violence at the drop of a hat wasn’t really his specialty, even if he wasn’t bad at it. And after seeing what happened to Sanshiro, Subarashi felt much better equipped to be putting himself in that line of fire than anyone else. Plus he had realized how much he enjoyed observing the game. Participating in it would probably be even more enjoyable. Beyond that, Mr. Arikawa always said that he needed to trust his dealers more than just about anyone. As far as Subarashi could tell, he fit that bill.
The boss pondered Subarashi’s proposition for a moment, but Subarashi could read him. Mr. Arikawa’s features were lit up as they were every time he had spotted an opportunity.
“Hmm. I know you have fast hands. I know you have fast reflexes. I know I can trust you. Yes. Yes I think this could work. You can be a dealer. We start you tonight at lower limits on the main floor so you can learn the basics. If you are good, after that maybe we can teach you to deal the Arikawa way.”
Subarashi didn’t know what that last bit meant, but he smiled, feeling that inner excitement. It seemed like he had just been promoted.
—
Present Day…
Reflection had been a large part of Subarashi’s routine since returning to the United States, but he felt it interesting that thoughts of Morio Arikawa had been at the front of his mind so much recently. He wondered if it was because of the similarities his old boss had with Matt Hodges.
Mr. Arikawa was cold, ruthless, endlessly cunning and supremely opportunistic. All of these were traits he shared with Subarashi’s soon-to-be partner. Both men were prone to arrogance, sometimes to a fault, but the arrogance was borne from an unwavering confidence that they were right. That their way was always the best way.
However, while Mr. Arikawa’s stature demanded that he seek out the help of those larger and more equipped to dish out the violence he required, Matt Hodges needed no such help. Matt had the mind to conjure untold and precise amounts of violence and the body to carry it out. He hadn’t earned the nickname “Mr. Nasty” for nothing. This meant that Hodges was perhaps more dangerous than Mr. Arikawa because while Matt could break an opponent perfectly well on his own, he was never above seeking out and manipulating others to do it for him anyway.
Matt Hodges was perhaps the ideal target for demonic possession. A demon would pounce on Hodges’ darkest traits and do its best to enhance them, bringing them out even more. There was no telling how much damage a demon could do with a vessel like Matt Hodges. And the real scary thing? Where-as most people would actively fight against the demon in order to drive them out, there was no guarantee that Matt Hodges wouldn’t enjoy having his darkest impulses strengthened. With the shackles of his humanity thrown off, Matt Hodges could very well destroy everything. Further, Matt was such a skilled manipulator that the demon may find that after a while, they were no longer the one in charge. It was entirely possible that Matt Hodges could trick the demon into letting him use its powers to get everything he wanted, no matter who was hurt or destroyed in the process.
This was what Subarashi had set out to stop. At all costs.
A light flicked on inside the pink room that Subarashi had observed earlier. He lifted his mini-binoculars and finally got his first glimpse of Matt Hodges for the day. He braced to see the telltale signs of demonic energy swirling about the man, but there was nothing. What he saw next made his mission even more important.
Following Matt Hodges into the pink room was his wife, and their children. Hannah Hodges was inspecting the paint job while Matt did his best to corral the two boys away from touching the still drying paint. The scene was something rather amazing. To see Miami’s Most Wanted, Mr. Nasty, Matt Hodges, acting with warmth and kindness as a family man was definitely a stark contrast to what Subarashi knew of the man. The positive changes Matt had gone through were absolutely worth protecting and Subarashi got a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought that a demon would even try to ruin something as wholesome as the scene playing about before him. He found that his anger was actually starting to give him a bit of a headache.
The Hodges family left the pink room and shut off the light. Subarashi put his mini-binoculars away and through gritted teeth, spoke aloud to the demon, whether it was listening or not.
“I won’t let you hurt them. I won’t let you ruin that.”
After letting his challenge hang in the air for a moment, Subarashi climbed back down the tree he’d been in and started back to the Subaru. His mission had just gotten much more difficult and he was suddenly feeling very tired. He needed to get some rest before coming back later in the night to put up some wards and scrolls to protect the Hodges household.
—
Supreme Championship Wrestling’s World Tag League begins and despite some recent disappointment in a tag team match, I go into this week’s opening round filled with confidence. While I’m sure most of the locker room and the crowd is convinced I’m something of a lone wolf, performing my demon slaying all by myself, tag team wrestling is actually in my roots. It’s how I got started. And in my heart I feel that tag team wrestling is the purest expression of this sport. The matches have a unique ebb and flow as one team tries to exploit the weaknesses of the other, perhaps isolating one member and working them over or perhaps one team favors a tandem offense that they use to overwhelm their opponents. It’s a competition of teamwork, tactics, and of course honor. I am proud to be a part of this World Tag League and I’m proud of SCW for putting tag team wrestling in the spotlight.
And in that spotlight on Monday I see the powers that be have saw fit to reunite me once again with Jason Helms. Although in reality this is the first time I’m clashing with Jason Helms himself. You see, at Rise to Greatness, that wasn’t as much of a wrestling match as it was an exorcism. So let me say to Jason Helms right now that I’m excited to see what you bring to the table with a mind not clouded by demonic entities. I’m positive that when we meet in the ring this time that we can give the SCW audience a proper show and I’m very much looking forward to facing you in a situation that calls not for me to expunge a demon, but calls for honest, honorable competition. I know things haven’t been going so great for you right now, Jason. I know the losses littering your record are starting to pile up and I’m sure they weigh heavily on your conscience, especially as you watch your brother’s Heavyweight Championship reign continue onward for another month. So I think you should look to the World Tag League as a genuine opportunity to restart things. To get the wind back under your sails and start returning yourself to the Jason Helms of old. The one who captured multiple United States Championships and looked for a time to be the next big star here.
I hope that’s the energy you bring, because I can assure you that even though there are as of yet no demons in the match, I will be approaching it with everything I have. And if you come to Breakdown as the Jason Helms of recent history, the half-assed Helms who seems almost unbothered to even try, I can promise I’ll put you down man to man instead of man to demon. Even if you’ve got a partner to back you up this time.
And let’s talk about your partner. A man with a long, illustrious SCW history who is oddly enough in a similar position to the current half-assed Helms. Jake Starr, you are a far cry from the Misfit of old who terrorized opponents with unmatched tenacity. At the Pay-Per-View despite brandishing the weapon you endowed with a name, you were bested by Holly Adams and that’s not the only confidence shaking loss you’ve suffered as of late. Is that really who you are now? Is the Jake Starr who punished his doubters with multiple World Title reigns truly gone, left only to the pages of SCW’s history?
I don’t think so. I think much like your partner, you have something still to prove, Jake. And I hope that at Breakdown you’re able to dig deep and bring it out. I say this because if you don’t—if we get anything less than the Czar of the Shooting Five Star at his best, then you will be starting off the World Tag League the same way you’ve endured most of the last few months. With a loss.
Because I am out to light this competition up and prove that not only is tag team wrestling the epicenter of Supreme Championship Wrestling, but that I’m one of the best. You will be getting Subarashi the Demon Slayer at his absolute best. I can promise you that, especially after my disappointment at Apocalypse. And that is to say nothing of MY partner.
Matt Hodges, I can understand your hesitance. On one hand, the World Tag League seems a distraction to you. You are laser focused on ascending the ranks as a singles competitor and for my money you’re doing so with aplomb. Another victory at Apocalypse added to your record and your impressive run continues on. It would be very hard to argue that there is a wrestler with more momentum than Matt Hodges on the roster right now. Beyond that, you’re being asked to team with—”Some Masked Vagrant”, as you so eloquently put it. So I very much understand your desire to replace me with Cid-kun, or even avoid this competition altogether to focus on your more lofty goals, which I’m sure are somewhere in the range of “World Heavyweight Champion”. Am I right, Matt?
I think I am. And that’s exactly why I know you’ll show up ready to compete on Breakdown. Because distraction or not, you love winning and you hate losing. It’s as simple as that. You don’t have to be a PHD Educated Professor in the History of Hodges to know that that is perhaps the most important thing about you as a man, as a competitor. It seeps through everything you’ve ever done through your career and it continues to be your driving force.
So you’ll be at Breakdown, ready to be World Class, especially against opponents like these. After all, it would be quite difficult to claim you’re deserving of a World Heavyweight Championship match against one Helms when you can’t even score a tag team victory over the half-assed one. I also know you’d rather eat sand than admit to having lost to someone like Jake Starr. And beyond all of that, I know that someone in your position doesn’t want to have to admit that they were carried through a match by “Some Masked Vagrant”. That alone should be all the motivation you need, because I can assure you that if you don’t bring your best, all anyone is going to talk about after Breakdown is how good Subarashi looked while Matt Hodges sat in the corner doing nothing.
I hope you’re all motivated by my words. Jason Helms, I hope you’re motivated not just to get back to winning ways, but to put a stop to the momentum of who many consider to be the biggest threat to your brother’s title reign. Jake Starr, I hope you’re ready to come out and prove those of us who think you’ve lost the plot wrong, and that you can still compete at the highest level.
And Matt Hodges I hope I see you in my corner motivated and ready to be World Class so that Subarashi the Demon Slayer doesn’t overshadow you when the bright lights hit, because my aim is to win the World Tag League, whether I have to carry you or not.
See you all at Breakdown.
素晴らしい
Subarashi had spent most of the ten-man tag match at Apocalypse trying to figure out which of those involved had been possessed by his demonic foe. It had led to him suffering through a rather distracted evening at the office. With so many moving pieces and so much action going on at once, it was tough to focus on his mission, let alone not getting his head knocked off by an opponent. What further added to his frustrations was that of the nine other combatants, none of them were particularly demonic. The closest was probably Giovanni Aries. But while his actions were certainly evil, they were without a doubt his own. When Clyde Sutter attacked Cid-kun, it seemed like a possibility. But again, these ended up being the natural machinations of Sutter’s personality. By the time Kelsei Adamson-Mason had scored the pin on Gavin Taylor, it became rather apparent that Subarashi had been played. There had been no demons. And the mere threat of one had kept Subarashi completely off his game. It made him upset. He liked confronting problems head on, going toe-to-toe with an enemy he could easily identify. The demon from his dreams hadn’t been playing that way. He was playing Chess. Or checkers. Or Underwater 3-D Backgammon. A game of strategy that Subarashi was extremely ill-equipped for.
The thought of that silver-tongued bastard snickering away at Subarashi’s loss made his blood boil. Perhaps from now on instead of confronting the bastard in his dreams, it would be better to ignore him. Taking a demon at face value had never been a wise decision, and that was proof positive that away from the comforts of Japan, Subarashi hadn’t been operating at his best. These were rookie mistakes he’d never have made in front of Kaguya-dono or the Master.
It was time to put the woes of Apocalypse behind him and do the only thing he could. Move forward.
—
The days of living out of his stolen, hot-wired Subaru were soon to be behind Subarashi as his first few paychecks from Supreme Championship Wrestling cleared, but truth be told, he had gotten attached to the thing. It had been incredibly reliable, getting him around the country. He was very grateful on this day that the air conditioning worked so well as he sat in the heat. Miami in the fall was a scorching hell-scape compared to the rest of the country. Subarashi preferred more temperate climates, but work was work and today his mission brought him to a hospital in downtown Miami, Florida where he sat, performing reconnaissance. A bouquet of flowers sat in the passenger seat of the Subaru and Subarashi munched on an entire carrot while hitting next on his iPod, looking for a song. He skipped a few regular songs, feeling indecisive. Bands like Dragonforce, Econoline Crush, Mindless Self Indulgence. They were regular spins on his stereo, but he needed something better to suit his mood.
And all at once he found what he was looking for as the upbeat 80’s pop jam banged out from his speakers.
“Where have all the good men gone?
And where are all the Gods?
Where’s the street-wise Hercules to fight the rising odds?”
Subarashi bobbed his head and tapped his foot to the floor of his car as Bonnie Tyler’s “Holding Out For a Hero” began to play. He chomped and finished the last of his carrot so he could add his voice to hers.
“Isn’t there a white knight upon a fiery steed?
Late at night I toss and I turn
And I dream of what I need!”
Subarashi imagined that this was the rallying call of all those in need of him. That those beset by demonic evil world round were joining together to sing about how they needed him now, more than ever.
“I need a hero!
I’m holding out for a hero til the end of the night!
He’s gotta be strong and he’s gotta be fast
And he’s gotta be fresh from the fight!
In his mind, Subarashi absolutely was that hero. He needed to be.
“I need a hero!
I’m holding out from here until the morning light!
He’s gotta be sure and it’s gotta be soon
And he’s gotta be larger than life!”
Subarashi continued to belt out the song, uncaring that one of his windows was down and that he was serenading everyone in the near vicinity. The singing along with the mask made Subarashi look like an escapee from the psych ward, but he was unbothered. As the song petered out to a close, he reached down to smash that repeat button, but hit pause instead as his reconnaissance finally had a breakthrough. Out of the hospital exit came the subject of this particular stake out. Subarashi picked up his mini-binoculars and held them to his eyes to confirm that this was indeed, Hannah Hodges.
The wife of SCW star and Subarashi’s soon-to-be partner Matt Hodges had been visiting her mother in the hospital on this day. Subarashi knew this because he was really good at stalking research. Visual confirmation wasn’t enough, however. He needed to be absolutely sure before he continued to stalk observe this woman.
Subarashi shut the car off in a hurry and grabbed the flowers. Composing himself, he got out and headed toward the hospital entrance. His pace was brisk and he timed it so that he and Hannah Hodges would cross paths on the sidewalk just before she could get to her car. The woman was looking down, focused on her own thoughts but there was only one way to react upon seeing Subarashi’s masked visage crossing your path. She stared at him and her mouth dropped open a bit as they passed. He let her get a few steps beyond him before he turned around with a gasp and shouted.
“Wait!”
Hannah jumped and yelped, as one might, turning to face what she thought might be a potential assailant. Subarashi put his hands up to assure he meant no harm. He spoke, letting the Japanese accent come out incredibly thick.
“You, you are Hannah Hodges, yes?” he said.
“W-why?” she said, understandably hesitant to give her identity up to a masked stranger.
“Oh, because! I am big fan, Matt Hodges! Number one fan!” Subarashi said, giving her the most sincere thumbs up and cheesy grin he could muster. Hannah’s body relaxed at this, being put at ease. It was very believable for some weirdo wrestling fan to be running around with a mask on.
“Oh, oh okay.” she replied.
“Tell him good luck! Win all matches!”
Hannah was nodding and shuffling her feet away toward the parking lot as she said “Okay, thank you! I will tell him!”
And that was the confirmation Subarashi needed. He smiled and waved at her before turning to go into the hospital. Hannah looked quite relieved to see him go as she hurried off to her car. Subarashi walked through the automatic doors of the hospital and ignored the concerned looks he got from those around him. He stepped around a corner to hide and peered out the glass doors, waiting for Hodges’ car to leave. The woman at the help desk observed only for a moment before speaking.
“Sir, can I—help you?” she said.
“Sssh!” Subarashi replied, bringing a finger to his lips. The woman looked surprised, then annoyed.
“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask what you’re do-”
“Quiet! Here! Present for you!” Subarashi yelled and then whipped his bouquet of flowers at her, eliciting a yelp and some expletives. But he was already out the door, running to the Subaru. Hannah’s car had left and he needed to follow. In a flash he was behind the wheel and peeling out of the hospital parking lot, in hot pursuit. He sped through traffic, darting in and out of a few lanes before locking in onto Hannah’s white Chevy Malibu and slowing down to match her pace. Vehicular pursuit wasn’t his strong suit, but he’d seen enough of it in the movies. He turned Bonnie Tyler back on and bobbed his head, mouthing the words as they traded inner-city traffic soon for suburban residential areas. After about twenty minutes of driving he figured they were getting close and he fell back even further, waiting for that victorious moment where Hannah’s turn signal went on.
And there it was. Pursuit ended. Hannah Hodges turned left and into her rather long drive-way. Subarashi sighed and slowly drove the Subaru up and came to a stop across the street from the drive-way, watching Hannah get out of her car and head inside. The nostalgia of it, sitting outside of the Hodges estate, was not lost on Subarashi. But he had work to do.
Surveying the land, he noticed the house was surrounded at the back by thick woodland. This would be perfect. He would drive around to the back part of that forest and find somewhere to stow the Subaru. Then he’d hike his way back to the Hodges estate and find a nice tree to observe from. Then his job would begin for real, scouting Matt Hodges and his wife Hannah for any sign of demonic possession. He threw the Subaru in drive and started looking for a place off the road where he could store it. He drove for a bit, looping around the opposite side of the forest, estimating how long the hike would have to be. A nice hike in this heat would do well to clear his mind and get his blood pumping for the task at hand.
After about a half an hour he had finally stowed the Subaru off the road and behind some shrubs. He put everything he needed into his satchel as he prepared to leave. Water. His binoculars. A compass. A few more carrots. And of course, his supply of Demon Reach. The specially doctored medicine that allowed him to open up his perception of the world and glimpse into the demon realm. He would take that when it was time to peer behind the veil and see if anything was possessing someone in the Hodges household. Subarashi grabbed a walking stick and his satchel, slamming the trunk of his car and turned to set out with a determined grin on his face.
“Don’t worry Hannah Hodges. The hero you’ve been holding out for is on his way!”
—
About an hour later, Subarashi had arrived nearly in the Hodges’ backyard. The thick vegetation provided cover as he scouted out for the perfect tree to climb up into for observation. It didn’t take him long to find one that worked. Nodding, he reached into his satchel and got a dip of his Demon Reach out and put it in his mouth, before beginning to climb. Once he reached the branch he wanted to perch out on, he got his binoculars out and took a look, hoping to get a straight forward glimpse of some demonic activity straight away. No such luck for the intrepid demon hunter, but such was to be expected. The only room in the Hodges home he could see into was a rather garish shade of pink. That seemed odd enough. What could get Matt Hodges to allow a room in his house to be painted that color? Demonic possession, perhaps? The Demon Reach was just starting to kick in now however, and Subarashi couldn’t see anything foul, other than the shade of paint.
And so he waited. This part of the job wasn’t necessarily the most thrilling, but it was just as necessary as bringing an avenging blade down on some demonic scourge. Subarashi wondered if he’d ever gone to such lengths to help someone before. And for the second time in as many weeks, Morio Arikawa came into his memories. The owner of the Arikawa Underground Casino had been how he found his entry into this life, after all. His thoughts trailed back to those times, where he lived as an entirely different person…
—
Japan, Four Years Ago…
It was a Friday night at the Arikawa Casino and as one might expect, the environment was raucous. Drinks flowed, money was spent, drugs were consumed, music was played, and bright lights flashed. All of it was make-up and concealer on the face of the worst human impulses on display. Here was a house of greed, of gluttony, of debauchery. Here in this house of degeneracy the lowest parts of Japanese high society came to let themselves go.
A beautiful young singer crooned her song on stage as chips clacked and bells went off. Those around the dice table cheered as a fortuitous number was hit and the dealers scrambled through getting their payouts. The little white ball spun furiously around the roulette wheel as gamblers looked on, hopeful that fate would make it land on one of their lucky numbers or colors. Men in suits sat smoking cigars at Blackjack tables, engaged in an endless battle of numbers to see who could come closest to that mythical twenty one.
This was the environment where Subarashi had found employment, and a home. Among the seedy denizens of the Tokyo underground was where he had spent the better part of the past year, working as one of the higher ranking members of Morio Arikawa’s security team.
Mr. Arikawa had been incredibly generous to Subarashi. Offering him a place to stay, and helping him learn the basics of Japanese. All Subarashi had to do was keep up the same energy he’d had that night in the Rappongi alley. Since that night, Mr. Arikawa had become rather paranoid about sneak attacks and he’d more than doubled the amount of personal security around him at all times. Usually Subarashi was among them, following the businessman out and about on evenings when he wasn’t at the casino and sometimes he worked with the security unit assigned to his private offices at the casino. Subarashi wasn’t the only foreign member of Mr. Arikawa’s security detail, but he was still the only one referred to as gaijin by most of the staff. The derision and hazing only lasted for a little while though as Subarashi put his head down and worked hard, both to learn the ropes of the job and to learn the language. Most among the staff respected the hard work he was putting in, but there were still some who didn’t like him.
One such was Karim. A hulking monster of a man from Kazakhstan. If Subarashi had the nerve, he could’ve also called Karim a gaijin whenever the man derided him, but Subarashi thought it best to pick better battles. Especially since he and Karim were often on the same assignment, like they were on this Friday night.
The two were working the high limit room. There were only three tables opened for the night with a few regulars, but the highest limit table was what Subarashi had his eye on. A squirrelly young man in a suit named Fujin was playing there and he was showing all the signs of trouble. Though he was mostly battling at even and not losing a ton of money, whenever he would lose a big hand he would pound the table and shout expletives. His outbursts would leave the high limit room in silence for a few moments before the usual chatter resumed. Fujin’s hair was a mess, his suit was disheveled, and he looked like he hadn’t slept in well over twenty four hours. He also had the telltale sniffle of a cocaine binge. As the current shoe finished and the dealer began to shuffle, Fujin barked a few expletives and lit a cigarette.
Subarashi looked over to Karim who met his gaze and rolled his eyes. As the shoe started up again, Subarashi decided to do something else he’d been practicing since this job started, card counting. It was rather simple. Low cards added a positive value, middle cards added none, and high cards were minus. Casinos in Las Vegas hated card counting, as it was a practice used to disarm the house of its advantage. Mr. Arikawa didn’t seem to be bothered by it. Subarashi simply did it to pass the time when his assignment for the night was rather boring.
As the night progressed, Fujin’s bets and behavior started to get more erratic. He yelled something rude at one of the other guests at one point and Karim took a step closer to the table, his presence alone enough to quiet Fujin. What really got Subarashi’s attention however was that the true count of the current shoe being dealt was absurdly high. Meaning that Fujin should be winning more often than he wasn’t. Only, as more and more expletives erupted from the enraged young man, that wasn’t the case. He was getting crushed despite increasing his bets at what should have been the right time.
Fujin upped his bet to the maximum and got a pair of eights showing against the dealer’s six. He immediately shoved out more money and told the dealer to split the eights, as was the basic strategy. On his first hand, a two came out and he immediately doubled, meaning he would get one more card. A king of diamonds came out, giving him a twenty for that hand and putting him in a commanding position to win. On the next eight, came a three. This gave him eleven. He doubled again, and out came a nine. He had two twenties both doubled at table maximum against the dealer’s six. This hand should have been massively profitable. Especially once the dealer flipped his card over, showing a ten underneath. A sixteen. There was only one number that could actually hurt Fujin next. In a six deck shoe, that meant twenty four cards out of three hundred and twelve.
And it came out. The dealer slung a five out of the shoe, giving them a twenty one to defeat both of Fujin’s max bet, doubled twenties. Subarashi was in awe, the odds of that happening were so impossibly bad that it beggared belief. He was so focused on the absurdity of the hand that he didn’t notice when the dealer came out to lock up Fujin’s losing bets, the man whirled a knife out from his sleeve and SLAMMED it down on the dealer’s hand.
There were about six or seven screams that erupted from the high limit room right then. The dealer, a howl of pain. The pit supervisor, a shout of surprise. The other guests, screams of pure horror. And of course, Fujin’s frothing yowl of rage and agony as Karim twisted his arm and broke it while slamming his face into the table and then dragging him down to the ground. Subarashi was on the move, instead focusing on how to help the injured dealer, whose hand was now pinned to the blackjack table and leaking blood all over a mess of chips and cards.
The dealer was a quiet and kind older fellow named Sanshiro. He’d always been very nice to Subarashi so he did his best to try and calm him down while waiting for a medic. It looked bad though, he doubted if the man would ever deal another card. Help arrived from the back as Subarashi comforted Sanshiro, assuring him that he would be alright. Everything was a blur. The pit supervisor managed to get the lid up and locked over top of the chips on the table despite the impaled dealer, and Subarashi heard his name called in Karim’s voice. As a few other people started to work on trying to save Sanshiro’s hand, Subarashi marched off into the back. Where Fujin had been dragged by Karim. He imagined the rest of the night wasn’t going to go well for the young man. Subarashi had never seen a guest assault one of the dealers, let alone with a knife.
He marched through the well-lit back hallways, following the shouts. He wondered what would possess someone to come into a place like this and act like that. Everyone knew the score when they came to the Arikawa Casino. It was not a place for the reputable. It was a den of the deviant. Yakuza were the most frequent customers, and as such, Yakuza were the ones who most wanted to see the operation continue to run smoothly. Morio’s family was Yakuza in all but name as well, and Mr. Arikawa himself was a key part of the Tokyo underground. A year here had stripped Subarashi of all his naivety. He had several guesses as to how the rest of Fujin’s evening was going to go. He caught up to Karim just as they were reaching Mr. Arikawa’s private offices. A few high profile men and women were already leaving, giving disdainful looks to the scene being made by Fujin. Word of what had happened had already reached Mr. Arikawa and he’d been forced to dismiss his guests.
When they went through the doors, they found Morio Arikawa seated at his massive mahogany desk, flanked on either side by three suited security guards, each of whom Subarashi knew well as men who were all business in the realm of hurting others.
“Fuck you Arikawa you cheating dog!” spat Fujin, before having the back of his knee kicked and getting shoved to the ground by Karim.
“Show respect to Mr. Arikawa.” Karim said. Fujin growled. Mr. Arikawa stood up and walked around his desk. Short and wiry as he was, the boss had every reason to feel confident. Eight of his best security guards were here.
“Fujin-chan.” Mr. Arikawa started, immediately talking down at the young man in front of him. “You make my Friday night so much more difficult. I have busy tables. I have good music. I have excited guests. I have a private meeting in my office. And yet, all of that is interrupted because you decide you don’t have to follow rules. You sneak a knife into my casino. I already let you bring drugs in here without bothering you, and that still is not enough. Not only do you sneak a weapon in, but you make a scene and ATTACK one of my dealers. Now, my high limit room is empty. My guests are restless. And I have one less dealer. How can we fix this?”
Fujin snarled up at him. Subarashi noticed now that his nose was bleeding. This could have been from the cocaine but was probably from Karim’s treatment instead.
“Your fucking scum dealer has been cheating me all night and you know it, you fucking prick!” he shouted, spittle and blood spewing from his mouth.
“My dealers never cheat, Fujin. You know how I know this? Because there is one thing that keeps a casino operating above all else. And that’s integrity. Something you and your idiot drug peddling father have never had.”
With that, Fujin tried to get up and leap at the boss, only to be squeezed back to the ground.
“Don’t you fucking speak of my father!” he said through gritted teeth, squealing a bit at the pressure Karim put on him.
“I only speak of your father because he’s the lone reason I’m not having Karim take you out back and beat you to death right now, Fujin. But your idiot father is also the reason you behave this way. It’s the reason you think you can come into an establishment like mine and make such harsh accusations while shouting and scaring people and filling your nose with cocaine. So while he keeps you alive tonight, he’s also to blame for why you’ll be returning home with two broken arms.” Mr. Arikawa said, and Fujin’s eyes went wide.
“Two? But I onl-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!! FUCK!!!!”
Without being told, Karim twisted around and snapped Fujin’s other arm, no doubt breaking it in several places. After the screaming quieted to a gnarled whimper, Mr. Arikawa started again.
“So I already have your money, and the sight of you walking around in arm casts for the next few months will be the example others need not to behave that way in here, there’s still the problem of my missing dealer. If you had any friends Fujin, I’d take one of their hands. But no one ever comes with you because you’re obnoxious.”
Fujin just groaned at that, tears flowing down his face with his eyes closed. Mr. Arikawa sneered down at the broken, crying young man for a moment before jerking his head in the direction of the exit.
“Get him out of my sight. Take him upstairs and get him a taxi to the hospital. I’ll call his father soon to tell him what happened here.” he said.
Without a word, Karim lifted Fujin up and dragged him out the door. Subarashi probably should have followed to help get the taxi to the hospital but he was still a little stunned. Even though he knew what sort of violence went on behind the scenes here sometimes, it was still his first time seeing it up front like this.
“And now I am down a high limit dealer going into a busy weekend.” he said, walking back around his desk and sitting down with a huff. “Sanshiro was one of my best. Replacing him will be almost impossible. I could promote someone else, but they won’t be able to do what Sanshiro does…”
As Mr. Arikawa continued to ponder out loud what to do about the situation, Subarashi’s spoke without really thinking.
“I could try, Mr. Arikawa.” he said, cutting off the boss’s thought process. Mr. Arikawa looked up from his desk with a smirk.
“You think you could deal blackjack, Subarashi?” he said.
“Yes. I’ve been watching the games for a long time. It doesn’t seem impossible. It would take me a little while to get used to handling the chips and cards but I know the rules of the game and what order everything happens in.”
Saying this all out loud made Subarashi really think about how he didn’t enjoy working with security much at all. Being charged with committing acts of wanton violence at the drop of a hat wasn’t really his specialty, even if he wasn’t bad at it. And after seeing what happened to Sanshiro, Subarashi felt much better equipped to be putting himself in that line of fire than anyone else. Plus he had realized how much he enjoyed observing the game. Participating in it would probably be even more enjoyable. Beyond that, Mr. Arikawa always said that he needed to trust his dealers more than just about anyone. As far as Subarashi could tell, he fit that bill.
The boss pondered Subarashi’s proposition for a moment, but Subarashi could read him. Mr. Arikawa’s features were lit up as they were every time he had spotted an opportunity.
“Hmm. I know you have fast hands. I know you have fast reflexes. I know I can trust you. Yes. Yes I think this could work. You can be a dealer. We start you tonight at lower limits on the main floor so you can learn the basics. If you are good, after that maybe we can teach you to deal the Arikawa way.”
Subarashi didn’t know what that last bit meant, but he smiled, feeling that inner excitement. It seemed like he had just been promoted.
—
Present Day…
Reflection had been a large part of Subarashi’s routine since returning to the United States, but he felt it interesting that thoughts of Morio Arikawa had been at the front of his mind so much recently. He wondered if it was because of the similarities his old boss had with Matt Hodges.
Mr. Arikawa was cold, ruthless, endlessly cunning and supremely opportunistic. All of these were traits he shared with Subarashi’s soon-to-be partner. Both men were prone to arrogance, sometimes to a fault, but the arrogance was borne from an unwavering confidence that they were right. That their way was always the best way.
However, while Mr. Arikawa’s stature demanded that he seek out the help of those larger and more equipped to dish out the violence he required, Matt Hodges needed no such help. Matt had the mind to conjure untold and precise amounts of violence and the body to carry it out. He hadn’t earned the nickname “Mr. Nasty” for nothing. This meant that Hodges was perhaps more dangerous than Mr. Arikawa because while Matt could break an opponent perfectly well on his own, he was never above seeking out and manipulating others to do it for him anyway.
Matt Hodges was perhaps the ideal target for demonic possession. A demon would pounce on Hodges’ darkest traits and do its best to enhance them, bringing them out even more. There was no telling how much damage a demon could do with a vessel like Matt Hodges. And the real scary thing? Where-as most people would actively fight against the demon in order to drive them out, there was no guarantee that Matt Hodges wouldn’t enjoy having his darkest impulses strengthened. With the shackles of his humanity thrown off, Matt Hodges could very well destroy everything. Further, Matt was such a skilled manipulator that the demon may find that after a while, they were no longer the one in charge. It was entirely possible that Matt Hodges could trick the demon into letting him use its powers to get everything he wanted, no matter who was hurt or destroyed in the process.
This was what Subarashi had set out to stop. At all costs.
A light flicked on inside the pink room that Subarashi had observed earlier. He lifted his mini-binoculars and finally got his first glimpse of Matt Hodges for the day. He braced to see the telltale signs of demonic energy swirling about the man, but there was nothing. What he saw next made his mission even more important.
Following Matt Hodges into the pink room was his wife, and their children. Hannah Hodges was inspecting the paint job while Matt did his best to corral the two boys away from touching the still drying paint. The scene was something rather amazing. To see Miami’s Most Wanted, Mr. Nasty, Matt Hodges, acting with warmth and kindness as a family man was definitely a stark contrast to what Subarashi knew of the man. The positive changes Matt had gone through were absolutely worth protecting and Subarashi got a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought that a demon would even try to ruin something as wholesome as the scene playing about before him. He found that his anger was actually starting to give him a bit of a headache.
The Hodges family left the pink room and shut off the light. Subarashi put his mini-binoculars away and through gritted teeth, spoke aloud to the demon, whether it was listening or not.
“I won’t let you hurt them. I won’t let you ruin that.”
After letting his challenge hang in the air for a moment, Subarashi climbed back down the tree he’d been in and started back to the Subaru. His mission had just gotten much more difficult and he was suddenly feeling very tired. He needed to get some rest before coming back later in the night to put up some wards and scrolls to protect the Hodges household.
—
Supreme Championship Wrestling’s World Tag League begins and despite some recent disappointment in a tag team match, I go into this week’s opening round filled with confidence. While I’m sure most of the locker room and the crowd is convinced I’m something of a lone wolf, performing my demon slaying all by myself, tag team wrestling is actually in my roots. It’s how I got started. And in my heart I feel that tag team wrestling is the purest expression of this sport. The matches have a unique ebb and flow as one team tries to exploit the weaknesses of the other, perhaps isolating one member and working them over or perhaps one team favors a tandem offense that they use to overwhelm their opponents. It’s a competition of teamwork, tactics, and of course honor. I am proud to be a part of this World Tag League and I’m proud of SCW for putting tag team wrestling in the spotlight.
And in that spotlight on Monday I see the powers that be have saw fit to reunite me once again with Jason Helms. Although in reality this is the first time I’m clashing with Jason Helms himself. You see, at Rise to Greatness, that wasn’t as much of a wrestling match as it was an exorcism. So let me say to Jason Helms right now that I’m excited to see what you bring to the table with a mind not clouded by demonic entities. I’m positive that when we meet in the ring this time that we can give the SCW audience a proper show and I’m very much looking forward to facing you in a situation that calls not for me to expunge a demon, but calls for honest, honorable competition. I know things haven’t been going so great for you right now, Jason. I know the losses littering your record are starting to pile up and I’m sure they weigh heavily on your conscience, especially as you watch your brother’s Heavyweight Championship reign continue onward for another month. So I think you should look to the World Tag League as a genuine opportunity to restart things. To get the wind back under your sails and start returning yourself to the Jason Helms of old. The one who captured multiple United States Championships and looked for a time to be the next big star here.
I hope that’s the energy you bring, because I can assure you that even though there are as of yet no demons in the match, I will be approaching it with everything I have. And if you come to Breakdown as the Jason Helms of recent history, the half-assed Helms who seems almost unbothered to even try, I can promise I’ll put you down man to man instead of man to demon. Even if you’ve got a partner to back you up this time.
And let’s talk about your partner. A man with a long, illustrious SCW history who is oddly enough in a similar position to the current half-assed Helms. Jake Starr, you are a far cry from the Misfit of old who terrorized opponents with unmatched tenacity. At the Pay-Per-View despite brandishing the weapon you endowed with a name, you were bested by Holly Adams and that’s not the only confidence shaking loss you’ve suffered as of late. Is that really who you are now? Is the Jake Starr who punished his doubters with multiple World Title reigns truly gone, left only to the pages of SCW’s history?
I don’t think so. I think much like your partner, you have something still to prove, Jake. And I hope that at Breakdown you’re able to dig deep and bring it out. I say this because if you don’t—if we get anything less than the Czar of the Shooting Five Star at his best, then you will be starting off the World Tag League the same way you’ve endured most of the last few months. With a loss.
Because I am out to light this competition up and prove that not only is tag team wrestling the epicenter of Supreme Championship Wrestling, but that I’m one of the best. You will be getting Subarashi the Demon Slayer at his absolute best. I can promise you that, especially after my disappointment at Apocalypse. And that is to say nothing of MY partner.
Matt Hodges, I can understand your hesitance. On one hand, the World Tag League seems a distraction to you. You are laser focused on ascending the ranks as a singles competitor and for my money you’re doing so with aplomb. Another victory at Apocalypse added to your record and your impressive run continues on. It would be very hard to argue that there is a wrestler with more momentum than Matt Hodges on the roster right now. Beyond that, you’re being asked to team with—”Some Masked Vagrant”, as you so eloquently put it. So I very much understand your desire to replace me with Cid-kun, or even avoid this competition altogether to focus on your more lofty goals, which I’m sure are somewhere in the range of “World Heavyweight Champion”. Am I right, Matt?
I think I am. And that’s exactly why I know you’ll show up ready to compete on Breakdown. Because distraction or not, you love winning and you hate losing. It’s as simple as that. You don’t have to be a PHD Educated Professor in the History of Hodges to know that that is perhaps the most important thing about you as a man, as a competitor. It seeps through everything you’ve ever done through your career and it continues to be your driving force.
So you’ll be at Breakdown, ready to be World Class, especially against opponents like these. After all, it would be quite difficult to claim you’re deserving of a World Heavyweight Championship match against one Helms when you can’t even score a tag team victory over the half-assed one. I also know you’d rather eat sand than admit to having lost to someone like Jake Starr. And beyond all of that, I know that someone in your position doesn’t want to have to admit that they were carried through a match by “Some Masked Vagrant”. That alone should be all the motivation you need, because I can assure you that if you don’t bring your best, all anyone is going to talk about after Breakdown is how good Subarashi looked while Matt Hodges sat in the corner doing nothing.
I hope you’re all motivated by my words. Jason Helms, I hope you’re motivated not just to get back to winning ways, but to put a stop to the momentum of who many consider to be the biggest threat to your brother’s title reign. Jake Starr, I hope you’re ready to come out and prove those of us who think you’ve lost the plot wrong, and that you can still compete at the highest level.
And Matt Hodges I hope I see you in my corner motivated and ready to be World Class so that Subarashi the Demon Slayer doesn’t overshadow you when the bright lights hit, because my aim is to win the World Tag League, whether I have to carry you or not.
See you all at Breakdown.
素晴らしい