12-7-24

“If there is a Heaven, and it is full of Christians, then Hell is the place for me.” -Anonymous

December Seventh, 2008.

The hospital room was quiet, save for the sound of your respirator and Mom’s crying.

I wanted to stay strong for her. But it’s not easy, being sixteen and watching my personal hero slowly ebb out of existence.

As a wrestler, your heaviest weigh-in was just shy of two-hundred-and-fifty pounds. Lying in that hospital bed, you were barely over a hundred.

My dad, the professional wrestler. Zack Kuroyama, the image of strength and excellence. But by the end, you had been reduced to a bag of brittle bones and failing organs. 

I wish I never had to see you that way, Dad. That final image of you would haunt me endlessly in the years that followed. Still haunts me to this day.

I remember wanting more than anything to watch one last sunset with you.

I remember praying for it.

But then I saw the falling snow beyond the window, and realized that my prayers, apparently, were not worth hearing.

I can look back now, all these years later, and see that as the moment I came to realize that there was nothing “good” out there in the universe looking over us. 

That was the moment that broke my faith.

The significance of it all only hits me now, facing down an opponent like no other I’ve faced before. And faith, as it so happens, is his primary weapon.

* * *

A mere seventy days was all that separated the third Alias Title defense from Colossus.

After accounting for eight hours of sleep per day, Kerry Kuroyama broke that down into a modest eleven-hundred-and-twenty hours to prepare himself for the championship match.

More than enough time to steel the body and sharpen the mind for the coming battle with Don Winters, so he figured.

But he figured wrong.

The demands of his work schedule made rest an impossibility. Being booked in action in all but one of the PRIME events leading up to the big show, including a handful of dates with the side hustle in DEFIANCE, meant he always had to be at the ready.

If his body still registered pain from these battles, his mind was doing a phenomenal job at tuning it out.

The out-of-ring proclivities only added to his woes. Shooting “Gettin’ Serious” with Scott. Getting roped into Clay’s jihad of bloody vengeance against the Whoresman. Trying to get solid dating advice from RIA, while also dealing with the constant crashing and burning in his frequent attempts to win over Ami.

Plus, the pointless trips up to a hospital in Vancouver to check on a friend he put there. The pointless trips down memory lane, involving her.

And then, of course, there was his ongoing resurrection of the Dojo.

A few weeks ago, his cousin Zack brought to his attention a prime piece of real estate. An opportunity they couldn’t pass on, as it was described to him. Problem was, between his in-ring appearances and weeks of a “bomb cyclone” blasting the Northwest, there was no convenient time to fly back up to Seattle for a follow up.

Which meant their meeting with the owner could only go down the one day he’d be guaranteed to be in the city.

December Seventh.

Scott insistently made the trip with him, to “do his Wingman duty.” It naturally resulted in an awkward moment when they met up with Zack at the airport, where Hunter loudly expressed his surprise in discovering Kerry was in fact related to “Rocko’s dumbass kid”.

After the trip to the cemetery to pay their respects, however, Scott had remained atypically quiet and reticent for the remainder of the day.

Now the three of them crossed the parking lot belonging to a darkened two-story building looming ahead, carving tributaries of footprints through a sheet of accumulating snow as they approached the entrance.

“Sure you don’t want to do this some other day?” asked Zack.

Kerry sighed, and looked up into the falling snow.

He couldn’t help but think that somewhere in the world, Winters was quietly and patiently waiting for their date at Colossus. Conserving his strength. Tempering his will. Getting ready for the war that was to come.

There were only precious few hours left that could be dedicated to the regular routine of training, conditioning, studying, and exercise. And yet here he was, pursuing this strange labor of love that he refused to abandon, despite it all very possibly being a massive waste of his time, attention, and resources.

“It’s now or never,” he declared. “Let’s have ourselves a look...”

He reached for the door handle and gave it a pull.

To mild surprise, it came right open.

December Seventh, 2013.

Years had gone by without you, Dad. But none of us were quite ready to move on.

The snow was coming down that day. I can still feel the cold. Every winter since has ushered in an unpleasant reminder of all that we had lost in you.

At the same time, I can still remember the warmth of her hand in mine. 

She had to be there that day, because understood what you meant to me. She understood, and still devoted herself to helping me through it.

Why the hell couldn’t I see it at the time?

Now she’s become another painful memory of what I once had. Of what I ultimately lost.

A necessary sacrifice, I would later convince myself. To finally sell my soul to the ring and embrace the beast within.

One glimpse of that faithless beast, and she got the hell out of dodge.

I think you’d agree, Dad… it was probably for the best. 

* * *

“So… what’s on your mind?”

Zack Daymon’s voice resonated off the room’s high ceiling, making it sound louder than it actually was.

The owner was evidently running late. With the building seemingly left open, they took it upon themselves to explore. As they walked through one room after the next, Kerry silently gauged the facility’s space and amenities, all while wearing his best pokerface.

It had been over an hour since anyone said anything. Clearly, his cousin was anxious to hear his opinion.

“It’s big,” he said, continuing to study his surroundings.

The building was dominated by a cavernous main chamber, along with a second-story mezzanine overlooking the floor. The opposite wall housed a large window that faced east, filling the room with gray light. Beyond it, the Emerald City’s skyline was barely visible.

Big, to be sure. Almost too big. At one time, the facility might have served as a gym or fitness club for regular people. As it pertained to their purposes, Kerry wasn’t so sure.

“Yeah, space certainly isn’t an issue,” said Zack in agreement. “And it’s in surprisingly good shape, especially for being empty the past couple years. Showers, locker rooms, storage, office space… it has everything we need.”

Clearly, the younger man was sold. And while his assessment of the building’s condition was spot on, Kerry still found himself feeling hesitant to commit to anything.

“More than what we need.”

Picking up what he was putting down, Zack’s expression quickly turned.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…”

Kerry shrugged, unsure if he knew quite how to properly articulate the feeling.

“I guess I figured we’d start small,” he reasoned. “Keep it to a humble, close-knit group of six or seven. People who we know will take this shit seriously. Something we could manage just fine in a basement, or a polebarn, or--”

“A storeroom behind a Greek bakery?”

The Emerald Apex flashed him a pointed glare. Daymon merely deflected it with a wry smile.

While it may have been true that a part of Kerry still longed for the chaos and carnage he had back in London, he knew had to honor the choice he made to stay with his current path in PRIME. Besides which, he was all but certain that the Greek murder granny named Ionna Drakos would undoubtedly skin him alive if he ever dared to show his face in her bakery again.

“My point, Zee, is that I’d rather keep things simple,” he clarified. “Simple means manageable. Like I told you in the beginning, I’m groping through the dark here. This place? It’s got everything we need and then some, sure, but at the same time, it’s… all just a little overwhelming, you know?”

Hearing this, and unable to immediately think of a rebuttal, Daymon appeared to deflate on the spot.

Then Scott’s voice chimed into the conversation.

“So what?”

Kerry and Zack looked to the Wingman, who had evidently been listening the whole time. Now he stood looking at them, with an uncharacteristically solemn look etched on his normally vacant face.

Scott Hunter, it seemed, was about to get serious.

December Seventh, 2018.

Time only caused the pain of the deficit to fester within us. The winters only seemed to get colder. 

Mom and I stood alone at your grave that day. 

Rocko had become a ghost. Your Dojo, and its followers, became the unwitting casualties to his weakness. 

His absence that day is a stark reminder of everything I’ve lost in the past decade. Of how this industry makes beasts of us all.  

Even Winters sees me as a fearsome dragon, coming for his precious hoard. A beast for a hero to slay in an act of valiance. An odd take, considering his occupancy of the mountaintop for the better part of this year practically makes him a despot. 

Still, he has every reason to fear me, because it’s no secret that I intend to usurp him. Such is the nature of the sport. As it always has been.

What he doesn’t yet realize is that this beast doesn't hunger for material riches, but only for the glory of conquest.

The beast within me, Dad, longs to be the slayer.

* * *

“Just a few years ago, I was nobody.”

Hunter spoke with an earnest gravitas that belied his ordinarily scatterbrained disposition.

“Just a kid with no future, trying to make something of my small life in the Everglades. Then one day, by complete accident, I wander into this random room that turns out to be the Vae Victis inner sanctum, and the next thing you know, I'm walking out to the ring every night with my best friend! Suddenly, I’ve got a purpose!”

Through the window, the clouds in the sky slowly came apart. The snow outside began to dissipate. As the view cleared, the west face of Mount Rainier glowed orange in the waning light of the sunset.

“You can’t predict when good opportunities come up in your life. Sometimes things happen by chance, and sometimes by design. I don't claim to understand it. But one thing I do know is... you can’t let your doubts convince you to pass those opportunities by. You gotta jump on them when you can, and never look back.”

Warm daylight filled the chamber. Immediately, the room took on a new life, appearing as though the three of them were only now seeing it for the first time.

“So I ask again, so what if it’s overwhelming? You know what else is overwhelming? Challenging for the Five Star Championship, at the biggest show of the year, in the biggest most prestigious professional wrestling company in the entire world! That kind of pressure’s gotta be immense… but I don’t see you sweating yet. And no doubt about it, Don Winters is a great wrestler… but honestly, I don't trust that Mariana Trench of hair in the middle of his chest. There could be evil creatures down there that haven't seen the light of day in centuries. Perhaps a megalodon, or one of those weird toothy fish with the night-light on its head, or something even more terrifying, like two tickets to the final High Octane show. Unless you have one of James Cameron's submersibles, I’d stay away. Regardless, Father Don doesn’t know what Rocko’s dumbass kid here and I already know…”

While Zack rolled his eyes at the off-handed dig at his parentage, Scott insistently poked a finger into Kerry’s chest.

“You were destined for moments like these,” he said, assertively. “You belong here. Don’t ever doubt that. Because whenever you have more on your hands than you can handle, you always find a way to step up to the challenge and bring out more of yourself! That’s what being the Emerald Apex is ABOUT, my dude!”

Kerry was taken aback by his words. Was this some sort of after-effect from the Wingman’s visit with the fortune teller? Something that went unnoticed until now?

Or was this a new Scott? A thoughtful Scott?

“I can't believe I'm saying this but… he's absolutely right,” said Zack. “We’re not going to find a better deal. So maybe it’s best to just take the bull by the horns. Whatever happens, Kay… we can handle it.”

Kerry believed him.

Not because he wanted to, but because he knew he needed to believe in something at this point.

The only way out of this was forward.

“Yeah… we can handle it.”

“Now that's EXACTLY what I was hoping to hear!”

The three of them froze the moment a fourth voice suddenly boomed throughout the main room.

“Wait…” uttered Scott, as it slowly dawned upon him. “Dudes, I don’t think we’re alone in here!”

They didn’t search long before the speaker made his presence known, swaggering out of the shadows of an open doorway. The man in the white suit greeted them with the bastardized smile of a used car salesman and a fire-and-brimstone televangelist.

There was no telling how long he had been watching them from the cover of darkness.

“Marvelous place, amirite?” he said, gesturing around the room. “Got it for a steal, if you can believe it!”

As he came closer, Kerry was struck with the sudden realization that he wasn't looking at any stranger.

The beard was gone, and there was hair on the head where there naturally shouldn’t have been, but there was no mistaking that sinister smile.

“Oh… fuck.”

Erik Black arms opened wide as he greeted them.

“KEEEEERRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYY! Looking absolutely spectacular, my man!”

December Seventh, 2023.

So many brutal winters have come and gone.

Then with this last one, the ghost finally came out of hiding.

An acrimonious reunion, to say the least. I wasn’t ready to extend forgiveness, and thankfully, he wasn’t there seeking it.

But a year later, I finally understand his warning. 

There’s more to this life than the wretched climb to the top.

My real journey is figuring out just what that is.

Everything you lived for... all of it was meant to put me on this path.

One day, I’ll find it. Maybe in the Five Star Title. Maybe in the Dojo.

Maybe in something else.

I’ve survived so many winters, Dad.

And I have faith that will undoubtedly survive another.

* * *

“The fuck is going on here?” demanded Kerry.

Black’s grin only seemed to widen.

Kerry was hardly a fan of the Goat Bastard to begin with, but this “cleaner” version of Erik Black somehow felt even more repulsive. An abomination to all that was holy and natural in the universe.

“I’ll TELL YOU what the frick is going on here, Ker-Bear!” exclaimed Black as he approached the trio. “You and I are about to make the DEAL of a LIFETIME!”

Confused, Hunter scratched at his mullet. Connecting the dots, Daymon’s jaw dropped open.

“You’re the owner?!”

The former Universal Champion of PRIME, once known to the masses as Rezin, confirmed their suspicions with a cheeky wink.

“DING-DING, we have a winner!” he crowed. “CAPITALISM, right?! It’s a HECK of a thing, let me tell you! Truly MIND-BLOWING what you can accomplish by willfully conning gullible people out of their hard-earned money!”

In a flash, his hands came up. They were surprisingly clean.

“Not that I’m implying ANYTHING about you FINE and UPSTANDING gentlemen!” he quickly added. “I’m simply interested in joining in on this exciting little venture of yours!”

Kerry shook his head.

“I appreciate the interest, Erik, but I don’t think we stand anything to gain by--”

“Kyurry, PLEASE!” Black interrupted. “Just HEAR ME OUT here! If you recall, it was YOU calling me up in the middle of the night months ago, telling me about your plan to reopen the Dojo…”

Kuroyama did recall. The frantic events of that evening in Vancouver were still burned fresh into his mind.

The idea of rebuilding the Dojo came to him later that night, and thus, the events that followed were then set into motion.

He hadn’t stopped moving since.

“I know I was only meant to pass the message along,” continued Black. “But it left me thinking about my own situation at the time. Because there I was, stuck with my OWN school over in Indiana, going absolutely nowhere and letting everything go right to SHUCKS! It took a great deal of soul-searching, but I eventually realized that maybe I just wasn’t cut out to be a teacher.”

His eyes seemed to grow even larger.

“But then it hit me… what about YOU? After all, you’re a man of GREAT ASPIRATIONS, Kyurry Kuroyama! A veritable BEACON of HOPE! A man like YOU works with a tried and true GETS SHUCKS DONE mentality! So it dawned on me, that YOU were the one I needed to help me realize this GRAND VISION of mine!”

Black turned to the window and lost himself into the open sky, innocently folding his hands over his heart.

“So for first time in my life, I willed myself to make the right choice,” he said with a tinge of pride. “I went SOBER and STRAIGHT. I’ve become a SELF-MADE MAN, and it’s all because I ASPIRE to BE LIKE YOU, Kyurry!”

Black spun around, suddenly seizing Kerry by the shoulders and giving him an emphatic shake. His wild eyes looked deep into his own, searching for meaning.

“Because of YOU, I was FINALLY able to SEE the LIGHT...”

He pulled him into a tight embrace, words slipping into his ear just above a whisper.

“And I promise you, good buddy… I’m going to help you to see that light as well.”

Kuroyama felt his body go cold. Black patted him gently on the back before pulling away.

Then he extended his hand, accompanied with the devil’s grin.

“So… you in?”

Scott scoffed. Zack held his breath.

But without hesitation, Kerry accepted the handshake.

“We’re in,” he said with absolute certainty.

Behind him, Kerry could practically sense Scott and Zack shaking their heads in disappointment.

What was he thinking?

Only that it was now, or never.

“GREAT news!” exclaimed Black, punching the air in triumph as he turned to the exit. “In that case, gentlemen, I need to see myself off, but I promise I WILL be in touch! In the meantime, just keep doing what you do, and bring me that Five Star Championship! Shouldn't be a problem for a gosh-darned super wrestling STUD like YOU!”

As he reached the doors, they suddenly came open when another person entered the building.

“YOU, sir, have just made the BEST decision of your LIFE!” said the erstwhile Goat Bastard, clapping the stranger on the shoulders before stepping out

Kuroyama, Hunter, and Daymon continued to stand there in stunned silence. The man off the street, having no context for what he just walked into, threw a thumb back to the odd fellow going out.

“Who the hell was that guy?” asked Beto Gutierrez.

December Seventh, 2024.

Once again, this day blesses my life with nothing but grief.

But with half a lifetime behind me, I think I may have rediscovered my faith. 

I know I’m spinning plates. And the moment I try to catch my breath, I’ll only throw off my rhythm and bring everything crashing down.

But whatever may come, I know I can handle it.

Even though I’m without you, I’m not alone. And I realize now that I’ve never been alone. I have Zack. I have Scott. I have Mom. I have everyone from Vae Victis... hell, even Ami.

Yes, I’m tense. Wired. Electricity personified. 

Honestly, though, it wouldn’t feel right being anything else. Like Scott said, this is what brings out the best in me. This is where I belong.

The tension I feel is what comes with pulling back on the skein of a ballista. 

When the bell rings at Colossus, and Winters walks straight into my crosshairs, the cord finally snaps loose.

This road was always meant to be an upward spiral. Every year has been a revolution, bringing me closer to the apex.

Look for me there, Dad.

The sunset awaits.

“And thorns shall come up in her palaces, nettles and brambles in the fortresses thereof. And it shall be a habitation of dragons, and a court for owls.”

- Isaiah 34:13