A Fatal Miscalculation

[Kaji Fireson]

April 25th, 2011
Boston Medical Center
Boston, Massachusetts

I've got a question for you, kid.

The scene opens on Isamu laying on a hospital bed. His ribs are bandaged and he has two black eyes. With the gods on his side, Isamu escaped further injury, but there is one man that he can never escape. Laying on the bed, arms wrapped loosely around his battered core, Isamu looks up at his trainer and mentor, David Fireson. David is glaring down at Isamu, and the young wrestler knows he's in for a real tongue-lashing.

David is happy to oblige.

WHAT POSESSED YOU TO FLING YOURSELF FROM THE TOP OF THE FUCKING SCREEN?!?!?

Isamu recoils back into the hospital bed as David leans down into his face. The Japanese flyer isn't getting away from this scolding.

After all the stories I've told you, after all the horrible sights you've seen, that I MADE you watch while training! After everything I've watched my son do, after everything I've seen his friends do, after Maxwell fucking died ON THE VERY CANVAS YOU TRAINED ON because one of my students botched a move from the top rope, falling only a few feet instead of FIFTY, after everything that I've taught you and after repeatedly, blatantly, and directly teaching you that you should NEVER climb something taller than a ladder and you should NEVER leave yourself in more danger than leaping from the top of a ladder, you outright disrespect me, everyone I've ever taught, and everything I stand for by disobeying the very first rule I teach. You'd better have a damn good explanation as to why I shouldn't whip your ass right now!

Isamu is nearly in tears from David screaming at him. It doesn't get any better when he notices that David is nearly in tears as well. Isamu opens his mouth to say something, but no words come as David sinks into the chair meant for visitors, shoulders sagging as he leans against the stiff, unyielding backrest, chest heaving, head rolling back, eyes trained on the ceiling for a few moments before he forces himself back up to look at Isamu, eyes flooded with sorrow.

Damnit Isamu, of all the snot-nosed punks and pussies I've had to put up with over the years, you're the one kid that I think, no, I know will make something of himself in this business. Not since Max and Siegfried have I seen such talent, and after the incident, Siegfried was never the same.

He still saw success--

But never to the extent he could have if he'd still had his wits.

David's shoulders sag more as the weight of the world presses him further down. Isamu, still slightly teary-eyed, seems confused.

But he won a championship very similar to the Suicidal Championship, and you seemed very eager for me to capture--

David groans as he sits up, his arms flying up as he seems prepared to scream again, but he finds that he has no energy and instead just lets his head fall forward, his strength depleted, his spirits drained.

He was like you before the accident. He was young, eager, and had respect for the business and those that ply this trade. He did flashy moves like yours, but he had a decent head on his shoulders. Then he just lost all respect.

He was just as athletic, but had none of the sense or dignity. He lost his passion for wrestling, retaining only a lust for success...it’s no surprise he didn’t last.

Why not? He was still just as skilled a wrestler as he ever was...

He could fight, but how long do you think people are going to want to work with someone with a history of shitting on anything they’ve ever done? I certainly wouldn’t.

Isamu ponders this for a few moments before nodding, conceding the point.

So you have a point about Siegfried, but how does that relate to me?

Do you want the long story or the short story?

The short story is fine...

David takes a deep breath, looking up at Isamu and training his blue eyes on Isamu's brown depths so the young, upcoming star knows he's being genuine.

I am trying to make you into what Siegfried should have been.

This gives Isamu great pause. Siegfried got talked about a lot in training, so for David to compare him to Siegfried, let alone mention that he's trying to make sure Isamu is better than Siegfried, gets Isamu a little teary-eyed.

It won't happen again, Sensei.

That's a damn good thing, because if another wrestler dies on my watch, I just don't know know what I'd do.

The desperation in David's voice as he contemplates that fate is one that makes Isamu sit up and take notice. He never dreamt he'd see David in such a state, and he'd rather not see him in such a state again. There's also the part where Isamu very much doesn't want to be Siegfried, or create another Max.

So when do we start?

David looks at him with a raised eyebrow.

When do we start training for my match on the next Asylum? I can't let Jimmy get beaten by Rico and Cyrus.

David pauses for a moment, then chuckles, the sadness not quite gone from his eyes, but joined by a muted relief and an eagerness to work and get this sadness out of both their minds.

That's more like it.

May 4th, 2011
Carrie Brown Bajnotti Memorial Fountain
Burnside Park
Providence, Rhode Island

We resume the story of the young Japanese man with little knowledge of his own history as he sits on the lip of a great fountain just a thousand feet from the arena in which he will do battle in only a few days. David sits across from him on a bench, watching as Isamu once again tackles something he struggles with.

Given his opposition this week, I'd say he's got a good chance of nailing it this week.

I came within moments of winning the Suicidal Championship two weeks ago in Boston. Now I have a chance to prove that I can stand toe-to-toe with the APW Heavyweight Champion this week. This is a tremendous opportunity to prove myself, and I am eager to measure my skills against the best that Asylum has to offer, but I have also been blessed with the proper opposition to bring out the competitor within me.

Rico Casteel, the match we had for the Suicidal Championship was an excellent learning experience for me.

Stop being humble, kid! You stole the fucking show!

Isamu grins sheepishly as his enthusiastic mentor draws strange looks.

Given the main event that followed, I'm not so sure, but I will say that it was an honor to have wrestled you as far as I did, and I have been repeatedly told that it is nothing short of astounding that I could do that after wrestling another match earlier in the night. Despite my questionable judgment at the end of the match...

David mutters so Isamu can't hear him.

Understatement of the year...

I accept defeat humbly. Your resilience and your strength drove me to the point that I felt I had to do what I did to defeat you, so those that say you only won because of that maneuver are not entirely correct, and even if they were, you still had the wherewithal to dodge my Shinyuu, which means you earned your victory. All I have to say to you is that I look forward to a rematch.

Though I feel sorry for you this week. In the short time I've been in the United States, I have never had the misfortune to meet a man so inadequately equipped to be a proper tag team partner.

The look of respect fades from Isamu's face as he considers his other opponent in this tag team main event.

Chris Cyrus, you earned your victory against me in much the same manner as Rico, if far less extraordinarily, but your victory is one I have much more trouble stomaching. You are not a respected competitor and champion like Rico Casteel, and you are not the best of Asylum's best like James Chambers. What you are is a coward who lucked out when APW acquired IWC and made it into an APW show. You lucked out, because now your preferred wrestling style is no longer at a disadvantage. Now more wrestlers have to use headlocks, and armbars, and submissions, because chairs and ladders aren't legal in every match.

But your luck only extends so far, Chris-kun.

You should probably stop calling him that, kid; he's not smart enough to realize you're insulting him.

Isamu raises an eyebrow at David's feedback, then nods.

So what should I call him?

Well, there are lots of options, but if you want to insult him by calling him what he really is, then call him a punk.

Isamu keeps that eyebrow raised, clearly confused by the word.

What does that mean?

David furrows his brow, then just shakes his head.

Nevermind. Please continue.

Chris-kun, you got one over on me once before, but I refuse to allow you to repeat your performance. I have seen hell multiple times since my debut in IWC, and you could never hope to contend with the horrors you continually compare yourself to. You are a man with a skewed view of reality, and on Asylum, it is my goal to fix it, to realign your eyes with the world around you. Who knows? Perhaps, after I've knocked that sense into you, once you've shaken the cobwebs out and awaken with respect for those around you, then you might turn into a competitor that I can respect.

But I'm not holding my breath.

Isamu glares into the camera with an intensity he hasn't expressed since he lost his match to Cyrus a couple of months ago.

I would love to see you turn over a new leaf, Chris, but we both know you won't. You like yourself just fine the way you are, so you will continue to lord your headlocks over the less technically inclined, despite not having a spotless record. That subpar record is something that will continue long after Asylum and well after Mayhem, because like the man Fireson-sensei spoke to me about last week, you lack respect for those around you, but unlike Siegfried, you have no excuse to explain away your lack of human decency. Therefore, I'll have to put you in your place since you lack the courage to do so yourself. Then, once Jimmy and I are done pounding you into the canvas, we can each turn our attentions to Rico for our own reasons, secure in the knowledge that you will not contend for an Asylum championship for a long time to come.

Isamu continues glaring into the camera's lens as the scene fades to black.