Work Text:
Yuki made up her mind before Reiwa AA Cannon’s final match. It weighed on her as she laced her boots and put on her gear, one piece at a time.
She and Akai didn’t talk. They’d only had short interactions since their last match together, almost none of which were in private. Akai was busy with her retirement tour, and Yuki didn’t want to monopolize too much of her time. Their schedules had managed to align for this one match, so Yuki told herself to be grateful and take what she’d been given and not ask for too much more.
But there was one thing…
As they prepared backstage, Yuki glanced up and caught Akai’s eye. She held Akai’s gaze for a long moment, telling herself that Akai didn’t have the same hold over her that she once had. Akai’s gaze was as inscrutable as ever. And in the end, Yuki was still the first to look away, her heart pounding.
A few minutes later, they were making their entrance, and Yuki stopped thinking about anything else, her years as an idol allowing her to keep her clarity of purpose while she was onstage even when her insides were a mess of emotional turmoil.
Akai: “At first, I saw her as a younger sister, but now she’s all grown up… seeing her as an idol today, I was surprised. She’s so splendid as a wrestler, she made me forget that she was an idol. I think she’ll continue to lead TJPW at the forefront from this point on. Right, Yuki-chan?”
Yuki: (in tears) “I might miss her a bit more than I expected… I don’t think of this as a farewell forever, but I really liked the time I spent with Akai-san, whether she was encouraging me in the ring, or whether we were hanging out together in the back and such, so I really feel like I’m going to miss her. I’m truly blessed to have had this time in my wrestling career where I was able to team up with Akai-san. Thank you so much.” (audience applauds) “…Akai-san, when we were a tag team, I was really selfish, or I should say that I’m really grateful to you for letting me do what I wanted to do. Can I say one more selfish thing here at the very end? Please give me a first and last singles match with you.”
Akai: “I like that fearless part of you, Yuki-chan. This is the first I’ve heard of this request, so I’m not prepared to kick Yuki-chan in the face as a fighter just yet. I don’t know when the match will be, but when I step into TJPW, let’s do a singles match.”
It was quite simple, really.
Yuki had to surpass her. That was the only way she stood a chance of ever getting over Akai. If she beat her, she could finally lay this whole thing to rest and move on with her life.
That way, Yuki could say, “I don’t need you anymore! I’ve outgrown you!” and maybe she would actually be able to believe it.
So she asked for a singles match and had her wish granted.
They did their post-match comments separately. Their final comments as a team, and they were already apart. It’s for the best, Yuki told herself. It was a necessary incision.
Akai: “What Yuki-chan said in the ring at the end, about wanting to do a singles match… To be honest, I’ve been shocked time and time again by Yuki-chan’s fearlessness and her surprising proposals, but today’s was the most surprising. I still can’t view Yuki-chan as an enemy yet, but by the day of our singles match, I will have flipped the switch to viewing her as an enemy, as an opponent who must be defeated. Yuki-chan, I may be a reassuring presence when I’m at your side, but when we stand face to face, I’m quite frightening… I hope this will also be a good learning experience for you.”
-
Yuki: “The last Reiwa AA Cannon… it still hasn’t sunk in. Until yesterday, I’d been like ‘is this really the last time?’ But doing the match today, I really felt ‘ah, this is the end.’ I’m going to miss her so much. All of the scenery that I was able to see because Akai-san was there, she really led the way and showed me so much. I’m so grateful for this chance meeting, that we had this encounter. Next, I want to hit Akai-san with everything that I’ve absorbed from being close to her. I want to surpass Akai-san, because I won’t have another chance. She’s not an opponent that I can just try again to surpass next time. So, with the goal of surpassing her in our next encounter, I’m going to do my best.”
(What do you most want to convey in the singles match?)
Yuki: “Of course I want to show my growth… that’s a given. I want her to feel that I have even more future potential. I hope that she’ll think that I’m going to get even stronger.”
(Next time, you will face each other not as partners, but as enemies)
Yuki: “No, not today… I still want to enjoy this afterglow.” (laughs) “Starting tomorrow, I will do my best to come up with lots of countermeasures!”
For the next month, Yuki trained harder than she ever had in her life.
She practiced with Miu Watanabe as much as she could fit into her schedule, both in preparation for their tag match at Wrestle Princess on October 9, and in preparation for facing her strongest opponent yet. She told Miu not to hold back, and some days she’d wake up sore afterward and have to put on a smiling face and dance as if nothing were wrong.
She went to Miyu Yamashita, too, and requested special training. “Kick me as hard as you can!” she’d say, and Yamashita would oblige her. Yamashita’s kicks were different from Akai’s, but she was the next best thing, so Yuki took advantage whenever possible.
And of course she watched tape after tape of Akai’s matches.
It was easier this way, viewing her as a research subject. She became Akai-senshu instead of Akai-san, an athlete that Yuki read about in Shupro rather than a woman she personally knew.
Yuki: “Akai-san, our singles match at Korakuen is next. After all, I can’t lose to Akai-senshu, who is retiring. I will work hard from here, and I hope to win, so I will do my best.”
When October 27 finally arrived, Yuki felt as ready as she’d ever be.
She had her strategies and counterplans. She had sharpened her willpower and honed her determination. She had cut out the part of herself who knew Akai as a partner, leaving only the side of herself who was ambitious and self-driven, ready to do what it took to win.
Yuki held out her hand for a handshake at the start of the match, but Akai denied her.
It didn’t take long for Akai to take control of the pace. Yuki had expected that, but it still frustrated her. She didn’t know how Akai could do this so smoothly, like it was effortless to her.
Whenever Yuki started to gain momentum, Akai somehow found a way to turn the tides against her, like pulling the ropes down so that Yuki tumbled to the outside. Akai kicked her from the apron, and she crumpled down to the ground.
Yuki crawled back into the ring only for Akai to launch her into the ropes, trip her on the way back, then capture her head in a submission. Yuki struggled futilely, feeling the strength of Akai’s legs wrapped around her neck like a noose.
It didn’t get better from there.
Akai hit her with several types of kicks, each somehow worse than the last. Yuki ended up back on the ground, and Akai kicked at her some more, the impact of each of them a dull sting against Yuki’s body.
Somehow, Yuki managed to take back control of the match. She launched Akai into the corner, eating another boot to the face for her troubles, and after getting Akai with a bodyslam, Yuki launched into a frenzy of elbow strikes, channeling every ounce of frustration that Akai had ever made her feel.
Each strike was easier than the last.
Yuki hit a dropkick, then went for a Scorpion Deathlock, but Akai blocked her attempt and countered it with a submission of her own. Every time Yuki thought she was making headway, Akai would undo all of her work in an instant.
They were back on their feet again, exchanging strikes. Yuki managed to avoid them, and then she saw her opportunity and seized it, going for a flash pin. Akai got out of it in time, but Yuki followed it up with a dropkick and took her down.
Yuki let out a scream.
She went for a Scorpion Deathlock once again, and this time, she managed to lock it in. She cranked down on it, trying to put as much pressure on Akai’s body as she could. Akai pulled herself toward the ropes, pushing through the pain to freedom, but Yuki wasn’t about to let that happen.
She dragged Akai away from the ropes, toward the dead center of the ring.
This is it, Yuki thought. This is my moment. I can do it. I can win.
But Akai was impossible to put down. She dragged herself toward the side of the ring, and despite Yuki’s best efforts, she managed to get to the ropes.
They exchanged boots to the face for a bit. At the start, Yuki felt like they stood on even ground, but Akai quickly got the better of her, until it eventually devolved into Akai just repeatedly kicking her. Yuki tried to get up, but she took a bunch of offense from Akai, and she could feel her energy starting to flag.
She dropped to the mat, and Akai went to cover her. I can’t let this end yet! Yuki thought. She summoned a burst of energy and kicked out.
Yuki grabbed Akai’s leg, clutching it tight so that Akai couldn’t pull away from her. She started to crawl up Akai’s body, using her as support. When she met Akai’s eyes, the expression she found staring back at her was cold and calculating, not the comforting gaze of her senpai.
Akai knocked her down with a high kick.
Yuki lay on the ground, out of it. She thought she could see Akai standing in the corner, resting her head on the turnbuckle pad. Yuki fought past the exhaustion and the pain, reaching for her feelings of rage and resentment, letting them power her.
She screamed, and that got Akai’s attention. Akai rushed toward her, and Yuki realized what she was attempting to do just in time to duck the Rookie of the Year Award.
Akai blocked her next move, and Yuki got her arms around her, but she wasn’t able to execute her move, and Akai got free. Yuki nailed her with a Big Boot, though, and that gave her just enough of an opening to execute one of her plans.
Yuki hit Akai with a Rookie of the Year Award of her own, taking the move that Akai had taught her—the move that was named after the award that tied both of them together—and turning it against her.
Then Yuki lifted her leg and brought it down, and she felt the reverberation through her body as the Finally connected.
Akai crumpled to the mat, graceful even as she fell.
Yuki moved to cover her, her heart pounding, body shaking with adrenaline. She felt referee Kiso’s hand pound the mat—one, two—but then he stopped, and Yuki looked up to see Akai’s foot resting on top of the rope, robbing Yuki of her victory.
Yuki was running out of ideas.
She headed for the turnbuckle and started climbing up to the top, but Akai made her way over and stopped Yuki in her tracks with a swift kick to the head. Rattled, Yuki sat up there for a long moment, her vision swirling.
The next thing she knew, Akai had climbed up on the other side, and she was trying to lift Yuki up. Yuki snapped out of her dizziness and hit Akai until she got free. The two of them slugged back and forth at the top for a bit. Yuki won the exchange and knocked Akai back into the ring.
It was now or never. She had to seize her chance.
Yuki leapt from the top in a missile dropkick, but Akai got out of the way, and Yuki came crashing down onto the mat instead.
She ducked Akai’s buzzsaw kick, but Akai got her on the backswing. Yuki went down, and Akai moved to cover her. No, not yet. I won’t lose yet! Yuki thought. She kicked out at one with a scream.
Akai hit her with a boot, and Yuki went down, but Akai didn’t go for the pin. Yuki let out a wild scream and pounded the mat with her fists, then got back to her feet.
She had to grit this out, take as much punishment as Akai dished out.
Akai hit her with another boot. Yuki got back up. Some part of her could feel that she’d already lost, but the rest of her wasn’t willing to accept it.
Yuki gazed at Akai through a haze of pain and felt Akai’s boot connect with her face in a Rookie of the Year Award.
This is it. It’s over, Yuki thought.
But Akai didn’t go for the pin.
Yuki felt Akai lift her up, her senpai’s arms strong and steady. Then the world was turning around her, and Yuki’s body once again impacted with the mat. She brought out the Quetzalcoatl for me, Yuki thought.
Referee Kiso’s hand pounded against the mat.
One.
Yuki told herself to kick out, that if she didn’t do it now, she would lose this chance forever. But her body was too weak.
Two.
There had to be some inner reserve of strength she could draw on, some part of her who wouldn’t let things end like this. But she couldn’t find it.
Three.
The bell rang. Akai’s music started playing. It felt in many ways like Yuki’s entire world was ending.
She felt Akai stroking her hair and adjusting her gear. Yuki gripped her tight, not wanting to let go. But Akai couldn’t sit there with her forever. She stood up and got her hand raised for the last time in Korakuen Hall.
Akai: “Yuki-chan, thank you for being my singles opponent for my last Korakuen. But I can’t let you surpass me yet, not as you are now. I’ve experienced so many different things up to this point. But you, Yuki-chan, there are so many experiences waiting for you, new things that you’ve yet to encounter. Please take all of those things and make them your strength. And even though you’ll face occasional setbacks, and there might be times where you get your heart broken… Yuki-chan has so many friends she can rely on. So, please support this girl.” (loud cheers) “You’ll be fine. The next time I see you, I will support you as a fan supports a pro wrestler, just like everyone here, so please show us the world that Yuki-chan is capable of showing us.”
After Akai spoke on the mic, Yuki reached out to her and Akai grabbed her hand, pulling her in for a hug. Yuki thought maybe she felt Akai kiss the top of her head, but she might’ve just been imagining it.
She felt Akai straighten her hair. Then Akai helped her stand, and the two of them bowed together, holding hands.
Akai let go of Yuki to touch Yuki’s head, but Yuki reached for her again, not quite ready to part, and Akai’s hand trailed down her arm and gripped her hand one last time before letting go.
Yuki stepped down from the ring and found Akai waiting for her there. Akai nodded at her, waved goodbye, and then left in the opposite direction.
Yuki somehow managed to keep herself together all the way through the backstage interview, telling herself she could cry about it later.
She didn’t run into Akai in the locker room after the match.
Yuki didn’t wait for her.
Yuki: “Fighting her for the first time, I felt frustrated that this was going to be the last time. I want to win the next one, I really feel that desire, but there will be no next time. Today’s match, and the whole time we were teaming up… I’m going to absorb everything, and I’m going to do my best so that someday when Akai-san comes to see me, she’ll think, ‘If I fought her now, I’d lose.'”
Yuki couldn’t sleep that night.
She felt sad and frustrated in equal measure, stuck in sort of a forever half-state where all she could think about was what she should have done in the match instead. If she’d done this then maybe she could’ve avoided that.
She watched the recording of the stream and took extensive notes, marking every moment when she did something wrong.
If Akai wanted her to use this as a learning experience, then Yuki was going to squeeze every drop of insight from it that she could.
If only there were a way for her to retry it. Maybe she could get just a little bit closer to winning.
But time travel was impossible, right?
…Or was it?
“I need to use the Chamber of Spirit and Time,” Yuki said.
Hyper Misao stared at her. “Huh? What?” she said.
“I need to go back in time,” Yuki said. “I know you know how to do it.”
“What do you want to go back in time for—” Misao cut herself off and gave Yuki a stern look. “You want to win the match, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“No. I’m not going to do it. Trying to go back in time to change the past never ends well! Didn’t you watch HYPE?”
“I don’t want to change the past!” Yuki blurted out. “That’s not why I’m doing this!”
Misao was skeptical. “Then what are you doing?”
“I want to be able to experience a future that I’ll never get to see otherwise,” Yuki said. “Because Akai-san’s retiring. So we’ll never get a second match. I’ll never have another chance to beat her.”
She could feel the pity in Misao’s gaze, though Yuki couldn’t look at her as she said it.
“Since I can’t get years of actual experience and then try again, I thought maybe I could speed up the process a little by trying to get a whole bunch of experience all at once,” Yuki said.
“So you’re saying you want to cheat.” Misao narrowed her eyes.
“Um, yes?” Yuki was not expecting Misao of all people to have a problem with this.
Misao stared at her for a long moment.
“If I don’t do this now, it’ll forever be an unanswered question,” Yuki said. “You don’t want her to retire, either, do you?”
She knew how to play dirty.
“Fine. But I’m not responsible for any of the consequences,” Misao said.
She started to walk off, and Yuki ran to follow her.
“Consequences?” she asked.
“Time travel never works how you want it to. That’s why I stopped using it myself. But you can learn the lesson on your own, I suppose.”
Misao took her to a little-used storage room. She flicked the lights on, and Yuki saw some large object in the corner of the room that was covered with a sheet. Misao walked over and grabbed the sheet, pulling it off in a single sweeping motion, dispelling a cloud of dust in its wake.
The Chamber of Spirit and Time looked like the front portion of a car, except without side windows. It seemed old and broken down, like it was salvaged from a vehicle that had been totaled.
Misao walked over to it and opened the door. She slid into the front seat and gestured for Yuki to join her. When Yuki looked inside, she saw the rose scepter sitting on the passenger seat. Misao looked to see what had stopped her, then reached down and picked up the scepter, moving it onto her lap so that Yuki could sit next to her.
“Some ground rules for this thing: true time travel is finicky. If it’s within a day, you can go back in time to any point you want and stay for as long as you want. Once a couple days have passed, it gets harder to go back. You’ll probably be limited to just an hour.”
“That should be plenty of time to finish a match,” Yuki said.
“After a week, that time gets reduced even more. You’ll probably only have a few minutes. After a month, you only get seconds.”
“So I have a little less than a week to do this, then. Got it,” Yuki said.
Misao showed her the dials and the switches she needed to use to configure the time.
“Once you’re in the past, you can activate it with your mind,” she said. “You can choose to reset the timeline and return at any moment, so don’t worry about having to make it back to the Chamber if you want to get back to the present.”
“Is there a limit to how many times I can go back before my brain starts oozing out of my nose or something?” Yuki asked.
Misao shook her head. “You can go back a thousand times if you want. You probably won’t want to, though.”
“I’m going to go back however many times it takes,” Yuki said, full of determination.
“Okay,” Misao said, doubt in her voice. “I’ll stay for your first time, though it’ll pass in an instant for me. Do you think you have the controls down?”
Yuki nodded.
Misao scooted out of the Chamber, leaving the driver’s seat open for Yuki. She took the rose scepter with her.
Yuki double-checked the time and date on the dials. Then she reached over and pulled the switch.
A bright light blasted her eyes, and she closed them involuntarily.
When she opened them, she was standing in the locker room at Korakuen Hall.
She glanced down and found herself in her wrestling gear. She checked her phone. It was minutes before her scheduled match, the exact moment she had inputted into the Chamber.
Did it really work? Was she really back in the past?
There was only one way to find out.
When Yuki made her entrance, she was substantially less nervous than the last time. She waved to the crowd and repeated more or less the same actions as before, moving on autopilot. Her mind was preoccupied. The crowd would probably forgive her, though.
Akai entered the ring.
Just like last time, Yuki extended a hand for Akai to shake, but was rebuffed. Even knowing it would happen, it still unfairly stung.
The match kicked off. Akai gained control of it immediately, just as she had done before. That’s okay; Yuki would simply wait for the right opportunity and then take it back.
She let things play out as she remembered, with one notable exception: when Akai baited Yuki into charging toward her at full speed only to pull down the rope to send Yuki over the top, Yuki expected it to happen and targeted the space where she knew Akai would be.
Her foot connected with Akai’s head, and Akai fell away from the ropes. She stared up at Yuki in surprise, with another feeling layered underneath in her expression: admiration.
Yuki felt a warm glow at having managed to impress her.
She couldn’t focus on that now, though. She had a match to win.
But Yuki had a new problem. Turning the tables on Akai here meant that the match had suddenly veered off into uncharted territory. All of her careful planning was based on a blueprint that no longer existed.
And sure enough, it didn’t take Akai long to find another weakness of Yuki’s to exploit.
Yuki hit a Big Boot and went for the Scorpion Deathlock, thinking that Akai was out of it enough to get trapped in it, but Akai once again avoided the submission, and Yuki found herself captured instead, just like last time.
Once again, Yuki found herself falling into the same errors that she’d made the first time, just in a slightly different order.
The rest of the match played out similarly to her first attempt.
There was the Rookie of the Year Award again, then the Quetzalcoatl. Yuki clutching at Akai’s hand as she cries in the ring, defeated. The same words from Akai, just as painful as the first time.
Yuki closed her eyes and mentally hit the button that would send her back to the present.
She sat up with a gasp, back in the Chamber of Spirit and Time.
“How’d it go?” Misao asked.
Yuki just shook her head. She leaned back against the seat, frustrated.
“You can try again as many times as you’d like,” Misao said. “I’m heading out, but you can stay and use the Chamber. As long as you stick to the basic controls I showed you, you shouldn’t be able to cause a distortion in the time-space continuum or anything like that. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Shouldn’t that be ‘don’t do anything you would do’?” Yuki asked dryly.
“Hey now, with that kind of thinking, you wouldn’t be here at all,” Misao said. “I gave you my blessing to make my same mistakes. But you’re not allowed to make new ones!”
Misao left the room after that, leaving Yuki alone with her thoughts and this strange contraption.
She consulted her notes again, coming up with a new plan. Maybe she’ll let the first mistake stand and see if she can recover from the second one?
Taking a breath, she reached over and hit the switch.
Back at the Korakuen locker room.
Then the ring.
The match started. They circled each other and locked up. Akai pulled down the rope and Yuki let herself tumble over it to the outside.
She conserved her energy, waiting for the right moment.
Yuki got back into the ring, and Akai launched her into the ropes, except this time, Yuki was ready for it and she leaped over Akai’s leg instead of letting it trip her.
Ah, there it was again. That look of admiration.
Yuki could sustain herself on that expression forever.
This time, she kept control of the match away from Akai for a little longer, resisting all of Akai’s attempts to take back the pace.
But Akai was inevitable.
She caught Yuki in another mistake, and Yuki never quite managed to recover.
Rookie of the Year Award, then Quetzalcoatl.
Yuki hit the button to revert the timeline before Akai’s music even started to play.
Maybe the trick was to outdo Akai in technical wrestling. Yuki knew a few counters, though she was no Rika Tatsumi. She rewatched Akai’s submissions over and over again, identifying the weaknesses to each of them.
She skipped ahead a little with the Chamber’s time machine dial, starting the match after their entrances.
She’d grown tired of hearing Akai’s theme over and over and over.
This time, when Akai blocked her attempt at the Scorpion Deathlock, Yuki was ready for it.
She evaded capture, staying free of Akai’s submission. It launched a cat and mouse game of sorts, with Yuki feeling entirely in over her head, but trying her best anyway.
She couldn’t help but try for the Scorpion again, knowing that she probably should be trying to weaken Akai with something else, first, but she stubbornly refused to give up on the submission.
She wanted to prove a point.
Naturally, her own hubris did her in. Akai managed to wiggle out of three Scorpion attempts, and on the third, she caught Yuki’s arm, and then Yuki found her body getting painfully stretched, Akai’s legs once again wrapped around her neck.
Yuki hit the button to erase the timeline instead of tapping out.
For her next attempt, Yuki thought, I just have to redo one of the times when I already had her, then not let her reach the ropes.
Simple.
She avoided Akai’s strikes, then hit Akai with a few more moves of her own instead of going for a roll-up attempt that was destined to fail. Her goal was to weaken Akai as much as possible before she locked in what she knew would be a successful Scorpion Deathlock.
Yuki finished with a dropkick, then let out a scream.
She went for the Scorpion Deathlock, feeling the satisfying stretch of Akai’s body beneath her.
She’d managed to position this one better than the last. It would be harder for Akai to find a way out of it. When Akai managed to pull herself close to the ropes, Yuki dragged her all the way back to the center of the ring, laying in the submission even more.
The crowd was getting into a frenzy. Yuki felt wild with it, like their cheers were pumping through her blood, reverberating in her body.
This is my moment, she thought.
Akai made the agonizing crawl toward the side of the ring. Yuki could tell how much pain she was in. In some ways, she almost relished it, making Akai hurt like this.
But Akai was persistent.
It felt like there was no pain Yuki could deliver to her that she would be unable to endure. She was impervious to it.
And in the end, Akai managed to reach the ropes just like she always did.
Yuki thought maybe the pain would’ve weakened Akai just enough to give Yuki the edge for the remainder of the match, but if Akai had any weakness, she didn’t let it show.
After the Rookie of the Year Award, Yuki didn’t wait around for the Quetzelcoatl before hitting the button.
Part of the problem, Yuki realized, was that Akai was very, very good at wearing her down. It probably affected her a lot more than she realized.
So for her next try, she focused on trying to avoid letting Akai get the better of her in their exchange after the submission.
They booted each other in the face for a bit, and this time, Yuki bowed out before Akai started repeatedly kicking her like last time. She remembered feeling so exhausted that she had to physically crawl up Akai’s body to get back upright, clinging pathetically to her boot.
Not this time, she thought.
It was a coward’s play, conserving her energy rather than letting her fighting spirit emerge. But Yuki was increasingly willing to play dirty if that’s what it took.
Not that it made a real difference. Akai didn’t get her with the same high kick that she’d hit the first time, but she got Yuki with a second kick that seemed like it came out of nowhere.
So much for trying to change her fate.
Yuki screamed. It was a different scream than last time, more wild and desperate. She almost didn’t recognize her own voice.
Once again, she went for a Rookie of the Year Award, though this time, she prepared for Akai to dodge out of the way, and she managed to hit her with it, though not quite as solid of a hit as she would have liked.
Akai stumbled. She managed to avoid Yuki’s next move, but took a Big Boot, giving Yuki another shot at her biggest chance the entire match.
Yuki took a moment to check her positioning, trying to keep Akai away from the ropes, which was her undoing last time.
Then she went for another Rookie of the Year Award, knocking Akai back toward the center of the ring.
This was it. Yuki lifted her leg up, preparing to deal the final blow. Even without being able to see her own expression, she could feel how crazed she looked.
She brought her leg down for the Finally and felt her foot connect with Akai’s head.
Akai fell to the mat.
Yuki dropped down to cover her, but once again, the ref’s count stopped at two. Yuki looked up, and sure enough, Akai’s foot was on the rope yet again. She had managed to fall in the right direction after the hit, anticipating that this would happen.
Yuki screamed in frustration. She started kicking Akai’s body repeatedly, ignoring referee Kiso when he yelled at her to stop.
From there, Akai’s dismantling of her was brutal and systematic. Whatever advantage Yuki had thought she’d earned was illusory.
Lying on her back once again, defeated, she hit the button to go back to the present.
She tried a number of other things after that.
Avoiding the missile dropkick from the top rope that was the start of her undoing at the end.
Avoiding specific moves from Akai that seemed to be moments where the tides of the match shifted in her favor.
Trying new moves entirely that she’d never done before just to shake Akai up.
Trying the same old moves again after practicing them repeatedly.
None of it worked.
Once, nearly at the end of her rope, Yuki restarted the match again, then immediately slid out of the ring.
Akai left to investigate, and Yuki grabbed her and twisted her arms over the barricade as Kiso started the count.
Taking a leaf from Misao’s book, Yuki retrieved the roll of tape she’d tucked into the back of her gear and started to wrap it around Akai’s hands as Akai writhed and thrashed, kicking at her futilely.
“You really want to win like this?” Akai asked.
“Whatever it takes,” Yuki said.
She hit Akai with one last boot to the face for good measure, then rolled under the ropes and reentered the ring.
Kiso’s count continued.
13, 14, 15…
The barricade rattled as Akai struggled furiously to free herself.
16, 17, 18…
Akai broke free, tearing the tape off with her hands. She leapt toward the ring, moving as fast as she could.
19…
Kiso stopped the count as Akai slid back into the ring.
She stood back up.
Akai’s expression held more fury than Yuki had ever seen in her gaze before.
She closed her eyes and braced for the impact.
The attempt after that, Yuki got so desperate, she let the match play out nearly to the bitter end before she tried changing anything. Maybe the secret to winning was in those final moments, somehow.
Yuki ducked the buzzsaw kick and managed to duck the one which followed it, avoiding that pinfall attempt, at least.
She wasn’t so lucky for the portion which followed. Akai hit her with a boot, and Yuki let it fire her up, channeling every ounce of fighting spirit she had in her. It took another boot to take her down, and then that Rookie in the Year Award came shortly after, as expected.
Akai paused. Knowing that she was preparing for the Quetzalcoatl, Yuki summoned the small reserve of strength she had left in her and used it to roll out of the ring, buying herself a few precious seconds.
As she lay on the mat on the floor, she could hear Kiso counting.
Yuki made no move to get back into the ring. She took full advantage of the time to rest up a little, letting some of her strength return to her.
She knew that Akai wouldn’t accept a win via countout. She hedged all of her bets on that.
Sure enough, right before the count reached twenty, Akai slid out of the ring and grabbed Yuki, hoisting her back to her feet and then shoving her under the ropes.
Yuki tried to cling to the safety of the ropes, but Akai dragged her all the way out back to the center of the ring.
She lasted a little longer this time, but it never felt like she was on anything more than borrowed time.
Akai ended her all the same.
She didn’t go for the Rookie of the Year Award again, though. Just went straight for the Quetzalcoatl.
Yuki listened to Akai’s music playing as tears of hopelessness streamed down her cheeks.
She let her eyes slide shut, then pressed the button.
Yuki no longer remembered what attempt number she was on. She’d lost track.
She’d gone into this one with some half-baked plan that evaporated in an instant when her own carelessness cost her the advantage right from the start.
Simmering with resentment, Yuki slid out of the ring. She paced the outside like an angry tiger, feeling trapped in a prison of her own creation. She kicked at the barricades, and it did make her feel a bit better, the rattle and give of the metal reminding her that she wasn’t utterly powerless.
Yuki no longer felt sad when she wrestled this match. Her sorrow at Akai leaving had been replaced entirely with frustration.
This time, she felt absolutely nothing. Just completely hollow.
She lifted up the apron and ducked down to look underneath. A shocked murmur went through the crowd.
Yuki reached down and pulled out a chair.
The crowd reacted audibly, the sound growing in volume as Yuki pulled out a few more, tossing them into a pile.
Akai stepped through the ropes and walked up to her, clearly worried. She grabbed the chair in Yuki’s hands, trying to take it from her, but Yuki just shook her head. With a scream, she wrenched the chair free of Akai’s grasp, sending Akai falling backward onto the pile of chairs waiting on the mat.
The sound of her body colliding with metal was a very ugly sound.
Referee Kiso was yelling at Yuki, but she didn’t care.
She slammed the chair a few times against the hard ground, feeling more alive than she had in a long time, her body flooded with adrenaline.
Akai stared up at her with an expression that almost looked like fear. Yuki raised the chair, and Akai took the opportunity to roll back into the ring. Yuki brought the chair down on empty air, the metal colliding with the other chairs on the ground.
Then, still holding the chair, she slid back into the ring.
Kiso tried to grab it from her, yelling at her that it was illegal, but Yuki wouldn’t let go of it. In a moment of rage, she tried to shove him away, and she accidentally shoved too hard, and the chair collided with his face, and he crumpled down to the mat, temporarily knocked out.
The crowd was going wild now. They were louder than Yuki had ever heard them before.
Yuki walked toward Akai, chair in hand. They circled each other like predator and prey.
Yuki swung with the chair and missed. She swung again, but Akai was too quick for her, and she dodged out of the way easily. Yuki hadn’t practiced fighting with illegal objects.
Akai tried to kick the chair out of her hands, and Yuki stumbled backwards but managed to keep her hands on it. She blocked Akai’s next kick with the chair, and Akai fell down to the mat.
She was at Yuki’s mercy entirely.
Yuki stared down at her, her grip on the chair tightening, almost enough for it to hurt.
She lifted it up into the air. The crowd was booing her now, the sound almost deafening.
“Why?” Akai asked.
“I just want to get over you,” Yuki said. She could barely get the words out, and in that moment, she realized that she was crying. “If I beat you here, I don’t have to ever think about you again,” she said, the tears coming harder. “And if I lose, I’ll never be able to stop thinking about you. It’s like a curse! Loving you is like being cursed!”
“Yuki-chan…”
Yuki screamed. She raised the chair even higher, where it could do even more damage. She prepared to hit Akai with all her strength.
But she couldn’t do it.
No matter how much she resented Akai at this moment, no matter how much she wanted to win, she still couldn’t bring herself to do it.
She crumpled to her knees, the chair still in hand.
She was just bawling now, sobbing her eyes out for all to see at the center of the ring in Korakuen Hall.
Some part of her could hear Kiso coming to in the background, and then he was rushing over to attempt to take the chair away from her. It felt like it was all happening to someone else a thousand miles away.
Kiso tugged and tugged, but Yuki’s fingers were wrapped around the chair like they were welded to it.
She heard the bell sound, and the announcer’s voice declared it a victory for Akai by disqualification.
Ashamed, Yuki buried her face in her hands and hit the button before she had the chance to see Akai’s reaction.
Back in the Chamber, Yuki sat there a long time and cried.
She didn’t know what to do.
Every single one of her ideas had failed, some of them multiple times. She had approached the match from every imaginable angle, and not a single one had been successful.
The gap between herself and Saki Akai was simply so large, it was insurmountable. The only hope she ever had of crossing it would be training very hard for several more years and trying again.
But she didn’t have several more years. She didn’t even have a week.
There was no possible way for her to get the experience she needed in order to win this. Even cheating time wasn’t enough.
Just one more time, she thought. I’m going to try one last time.
Taking a deep breath, she reached over and pulled the switch.
There was one thing she’d never tried changing in all of her various attempts.
She’d never bothered altering it because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t anything that affected the result of the match in any way.
For some reason, though, today she wanted to try it differently.
At the start of the match, when normally she would offer a handshake to Akai, she kept her hand stiffly at her side, denying Akai the opportunity to reject her.
The match started without either of them attempting to shake the other person’s hand.
For whatever reason, Yuki’s emotions were more tempered this time.
She kept a cool head about her and didn’t fall for the trick Akai tried to pull with the rope. A little later, when Akai tried tripping her, she saw it coming and successfully leapt over Akai’s outstretched leg.
Yuki couldn’t prevent Akai from blocking her first attempt at the Scorpion Deathlock, though. She went into it a little prematurely, without properly wearing down her opponent first.
That was her first major mistake.
Her second was waiting a little too long before attempting the submission again.
Akai managed to take back control of the match, and by the time Yuki managed to get her captured, Yuki herself was too weak to crank down on the submission as much as she needed to in order to prevent Akai from getting to the ropes.
The next portion of the match was more drawn out than Yuki had remembered it being in any of her previous attempts. Yuki carefully kept her own energy in check, pacing herself so that she didn’t overextend herself.
Akai tried to wear her down with strikes, and Yuki weathered them as best as she could. She escaped to the outside of the ring before Akai could attempt to pin her. When Akai’s boot came at her from the apron, she managed to duck under it in time.
On her hands and knees on the ground, she looked at the area beneath the ring and considered the chairs underneath. Her hands tightened into fists. She took a deep breath. Then she got to her feet and climbed back in.
When Yuki hit the Rookie of the Year Award this time, for half a second, she considered trying the Quetzalcoatl instead of the Finally. She could control where Akai falls with that move. Maybe it would be just strong enough and directed enough that she could get the win.
But she didn’t want to win by copying Akai. She wanted to win on her own terms. Prove that she could do it, that she didn’t need Akai.
So, like a stupid doomed protagonist in a tragedy, she went for the Finally once again.
Akai got out of it like always, those beautiful long limbs of hers always somehow reaching the ropes seemingly no matter where she fell in the ring.
And just like all of the previous times, Akai managed to come back from that stronger than ever. She regained control of the match, her momentum only growing as Yuki’s continued to dwindle.
Yuki felt exhausted.
“Three minutes remaining,” said ring announcer Namba.
Yuki felt a spark of hope, at that. Maybe even if she couldn’t win, she could at least somehow last the time limit. That way, at least she wouldn’t lose.
Akai’s boot slammed into her face, and she fell down onto the canvas.
Yuki forced herself to get up, gritting her teeth. She took the second boot even harder, her head snapping backwards. She knew the Rookie of the Year Award was coming. She didn’t have the strength left in her to dodge out of the way.
But maybe she didn’t need to.
She gave into her exhaustion and dropped down onto the mat, feeling Akai’s boot soar over her.
Akai stumbled a bit, and Yuki summoned a final burst of energy and grabbed Akai by the legs and rolled her onto her shoulders.
One, two—
Akai kicked out. The crowd was making an incredible amount of noise, the roar almost deafening. For a moment, they’d thought Yuki actually had it.
“One minute remaining!”
Akai hit her with a kick, and Yuki crumpled once again.
This time, Akai didn’t go for a Rookie of the Year Award. She went straight for the Quetzalcoatl, without wasting a single second.
Yuki knew she’d already lost the moment her body left the ground.
Her back slammed onto the mat.
One, two, three.
It was over.
Yuki cried silent tears as Akai stroked her hair and allowed Yuki to clutch at her gently.
Akai’s speech on the mic was the same as it was before. It was always the same.
“Yuki-chan, thank you for being my singles opponent for my last Korakuen. But I can’t let you surpass me yet, not as you are now.”
I wish you would allow future me the chance to try again, she thought.
“I’ve experienced so many different things up to this point. But you, Yuki-chan, there are so many experiences waiting for you, new things that you’ve yet to encounter. Please take all of those things and make them your strength.”
But you won’t be there to see it when I do, Yuki thought.
“And even though you’ll face occasional setbacks, and there might be times where you get your heart broken… You have so many friends you can rely on.” She directed the next part to the crowd: “So, please support this girl.” As the venue erupted into loud cheers, she said, “You’ll be fine.”
I don’t want to rely on new friends. I want you, Yuki thought.
“The next time I see you, I will support you as a fan supports a pro wrestler, just like everyone here, so please show us the world that Yuki-chan is capable of showing us.”
I don’t want you to love me like a fan. I want you to love me as an equal, Yuki thought.
She waited until after the promo to go back. Akai hugged her, straightened her hair, then helped her stand for the bow.
Yuki closed her eyes, and before Akai could let go of her hand, she erased this timeline, too.
Back in the Chamber of Spirit and Time, she felt almost relieved.
Even now, some part of her wanted to go back and attempt the match yet again. She had gotten closer than ever before on that last one. She could probably get closer still if she tried again. But she could not see a way she could get close enough to actually win without some fluke, like the same kind of fortune that had struck when she and Akai had won the Tag Team Championship from the Magical Sugar Rabbits.
Akai was right. She needed to gain a lot of experience. Different experiences, not experiencing the same thing over and over again because she was unable to move on from it.
The only problem was that Yuki still didn’t know how she was going to move on.
The door to the storage room opened suddenly, and Yuki turned to see who was there. She started to climb out of the Chamber, her legs a little shaky after sitting for so long.
“Whoa, you’re still here?” Misao asked.
“Yeah, I’m done now, though,” Yuki said
“Wait, you managed to win after all? Why do I still remember it as a loss, though…”
“No. I couldn’t beat her.” A lump rose in Yuki’s throat as she said it. For some reason, admitting it out loud to someone else like that was harder than admitting it to herself.
“Realized it was futile, then?” Misao asked sympathetically.
“I think if I’d kept trying, I would have gone mad,” Yuki said.
“So is it alright if we turn off the Chamber of Spirit and Time?” Misao asked.
Yuki turned to look back at the Chamber. She reached out and rested her hand on the door for a moment, and almost gave into the temptation to open it back up and step inside and do it all over again.
“Yes, I’m done,” she said, lowering her hand.
Misao powered the machine back down, and the quiet hum in the room that Yuki had forgotten about died down along with it, leaving the room strangely quiet.
Yuki said goodbye to Misao and left to go back home.
She almost went back the next day, but stopped herself from opening that door.
A few more days went by.
Then it was Saki Akai’s last TJPW match on November 3, and with that, a week had passed, which meant that the window for Yuki to change her fate in their singles match had officially closed.
She would never be able to try again. Akai would always have that win over her.
Misao: “When you told me about your retirement, I thought it was a beautiful 10-year milestone, just like you… a beautiful retirement road. I was in agreement that it was a beautiful decision, but in the end… as much as I felt that, I felt so sad that I wouldn’t be able to see you in the ring again, and I couldn’t accept it. Until we faced off in this match today, I avoided thinking about it, or rather there was a part of me that couldn’t face the fact that you were retiring. I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want my story in the ring with Akai-san to end. And it’s not just me, but everyone here at TJPW… and the many other wrestlers who adore Akai-san, and the audience, too, all of us. But in this match at the end, she took in all of our feelings. And I thought, ‘This is not the end.’ What Akai-san showed us in the ring, her determination to stand in the ring… Seeing you, strong, noble, beautiful, and honest to the core, we received it from you anew, so many unyielding qualities within us. This is the last time that you will fight us in TJPW, but this isn’t the end… You’ll always be with us, living on inside of our hearts. For all of us at TJPW, you will always be our proud big sister. Truly, thank you for everything.”
-
Akai: “Everyone, and this doesn’t just apply to me, but I want you to say ‘I love you’ if you love someone. Today in the ring, all of the wrestlers kept saying ‘I love you’ even though their voices weren’t audible to everyone, and I thought that was so cute. If you want to meet, you should go and meet, and I want you to cherish the feeling you have at that moment. So, let’s go to Ryogoku… It’s fine to watch the stream, but I want people to cherish the feelings you get when you attend a live wrestling show. I want you all to watch until the moment my flame as a professional wrestler burns out.”
Yuki didn’t go to the November 3 show.
She wasn’t scheduled for it, and she couldn’t make room for it with the rest of her obligations. She watched it from afar on Wrestle Universe and cried her eyes out, alone in her apartment.
The next day, she ran into Misao when she showed up for training.
“I get it, I think,” Misao said.
“Huh?”
“Why you wanted to go back. Some part of me wants to go back and try again, too.”
Yuki remembered, then, that Misao had lost to Akai in her official last TJPW match, and then had lost to her a second time in the unscheduled Saki Akai vs everyone in TJPW match which had followed it.
“Are you going to do it? Are you going to go back in time and try to win?” Yuki asked.
“No. I don’t use the Chamber of Spirit and Time for that kind of thing anymore,” Misao said.
“What do you use it for, then?”
Misao regarded her for a long moment, as if deliberating whether or not to tell her. For someone who had made so many deeply personal details of her life so public, there were a lot of aspects of herself that she kept carefully hidden.
“I’ll show you,” she said, finally.
She started to walk, gesturing for Yuki to follow.
The Chamber of Spirit and Time looked exactly how they’d left it the week before. Except the rose scepter was back in the seat, Yuki noticed. She wondered when Misao had replaced it.
Misao climbed into the driver’s seat then beckoned for Yuki to come join her.
“So, the Chamber can do more than take you back in time,” Misao said.
She fiddled with the control panel, hitting a few buttons and switches and turning the dials.
“It can take you back into your own memories,” Misao continued.
“Can’t you already do that without needing a special machine?” Yuki asked.
“Well, yes. But your own memories are never as vivid as the actual experience. And with time, they start to fade. The Chamber helps preserve them. You can essentially relive them, exactly as they happened.”
Misao glanced over at Yuki.
“Close that door, will you?” she asked. “The Chamber won’t start if it’s open.”
Yuki closed it.
“Where are we going—” she started to say.
Misao slammed her fist on a large button on the dashboard, and then Yuki’s vision started to swirl, and she felt a sense of vertigo. She closed her eyes and waited for the feeling to pass.
Suddenly, she felt what seemed like a breeze on her skin. The surface she was sitting on felt harder than the seat in the Chamber. The air tasted different here, too, almost sweet.
Yuki’s eyes fluttered open.
She and Misao were sitting on a stone bench in a garden. It was the big and fancy kind, like you’d see attached to an elaborate French chateau. Judging by the weather, it was spring or summer, a nice clear day with just the right amount of clouds in the sky to keep the sun from beating down.
“Where are we?” Yuki asked, glancing at their surroundings in awe.
“Paris, in 2019,” Misao said. “Welcome to one of the happiest and most beautiful days of my life.”
Yuki glimpsed some movement, and she turned and watched as two women walked by, arm in arm. One of the women she recognized immediately. At first she mistook her for Saki Akai, but her brain quickly corrected itself. No, this was Sakisama.
She had to stare at the other woman for a long moment before she realized that it was Misao. She didn’t have her mask on, and her hair was black instead of pink. Her whole outfit was black and red and gold, coordinating with Sakisama’s black and white and red.
They looked gorgeous, like two characters right out of a story.
The Misao of the past carried the rose scepter in her free hand as she walked. She was talking to Sakisama, though Yuki and present-day Misao weren’t sitting close enough to be able to hear their conversation.
Despite the beauty of the garden, the past version of Misao seemed to only have eyes for Sakisama. All of her attention was fixated on her as if she were the axis around which the whole world turned.
“Every time I come back, the memory fades a little more, so it isn’t quite as I remember it anymore, but it’s still beautiful,” present-day Misao said. “The Chamber can soften the passage of time, but it can’t stop it.”
Yuki watched the past Misao and Sakisama walk together. Seeing the expression of raw devotion on past Misao’s face, it felt almost like she was intruding on something she had no right to witness, even though present day Misao had consented to Yuki seeing her like this.
“I used to go back to visit this place all the time,” Misao said. “In the Chamber, I mean—I’ve never gone back in person. But I haven’t visited it in a while.”
Why? Yuki wanted to ask. But she thought she knew the answer.
“How do you bear it?” she asked instead, almost in a whisper. “How do you bear the pain?”
Misao took a long time to answer.
“Eventually, you find a way to move on,” she said. “And then the colors of the roses aren’t quite so sharp anymore, and the happiness feels less intense, but the pain does as well. And you find new joys with new people.”
The Sakisama and Misao of the past stopped by some roses. Misao retrieved a pair of scissors from her pocket and snipped a rose from the bush. Then she turned and offered it to Sakisama with a bow.
Sakisama reached out and lifted up Misao’s chin. Her other hand curled around Misao’s fingers where they gripped the rose. She stepped closer, and then she was leaning down, and Misao was leaning up, and—
“Well, that’s probably enough of that,” present day Misao said brightly.
Then the vertigo struck Yuki again, and she closed her eyes as the world started to swirl around her.
When she opened them, she was back in the Chamber.
She sat there in silence beside Misao for a long moment, sort of just taking it all in.
“Wow,” Yuki said, finally. “That was incredible.”
Misao seemed a bit flustered, like the embarrassment was suddenly hitting her all at once.
“It was, well, it was what it was!” she said with false cheeriness. “But it’s getting a bit late, and we’ll both probably be wanting to get home soon, so—”
She made a move to exit the Chamber, but Yuki stopped her with a “Wait!”
Misao turned toward her, waiting.
Yuki took a deep breath. She had a new idea. She wasn’t sure if Misao would approve of it or not, but she had to try it, and this would be her last chance, so it was now or never.
“Can I use the Chamber to go back in time one last time?” Yuki asked.
Misao seemed like she wanted to say no, but something in Yuki’s expression made her reconsider.
Without a word, she turned back toward the controls and started to reconfigure the machine to its former settings.
“No, not October 27,” Yuki said, looking at the date on the dial. “Make it November 3.”
Yuki entered Shinjuku Face through the back entrance.
The employees at the venue were surprised to see her, but they let her pass without question, assuming that she was here to make a surprise appearance for Saki Akai’s retirement ceremony.
Yuki stayed out of sight of the other wrestlers, not wanting any of them to know she was here. She had a face mask on and a hat, which somewhat disguised her appearance, but she was too famous to get away with just that and expect not to be recognized.
She needed something more.
Luckily, fortune was on her side, and she spotted Misao walking alone.
“Psst, Misao!” she whispered.
Misao whirled around. She saw Yuki and her eyes widened. She rushed over, and Yuki pulled her aside.
“I thought you couldn’t make it to the show!” Misao said.
“I’m not technically supposed to be here,” Yuki said. “Don’t let anyone else know about it, okay? I don’t want to cause a scene.”
“What are you doing here?”
“There’s something I need to do,” Yuki explained. “I can’t tell you what it is. But it, uh, involves time travel.”
Misao gave her a look.
“I’m not changing the past!” Yuki assured her. “Your future self approved of it!”
“And you need my help with something?” Misao surmised.
Yuki nodded. “I need… I need something to cover my face with,” she said. “The top half, I mean. So that I can watch the show from the crowd without getting recognized.”
Misao considered it thoughtfully for a long moment.
“Hang on,” she said. Then she slipped back into the hallway and disappeared.
Yuki waited a few minutes for her to return, trying not to fidget.
“Here,” Misao’s voice came out of nowhere, and Yuki jumped in surprise.
Misao was holding out a t-shirt. It was her own merch, the shirt with a photo of her with a gun.
“Put this on,” she said. “It’ll help disguise you.”
Yuki had attempted to dress very nondescript, but apparently Misao must think that she had failed. She grabbed the shirt, uselessly checked to see if anyone else was watching—though if they were, she’d have bigger problems than getting seen shirtless—then pulled off her other shirt and put Misao’s on.
That still didn’t solve Yuki’s main problem, though, which was her extremely recognizable face.
“What about—” she started to ask.
“Normally I try to carry an extra mask with me, just in case,” Misao said. “But in my haste to pack the signs, I forgot to grab one. So this is the only one I have.” She pointed at the mask that was currently on her face.
Yuki couldn’t ask for it. It was too great of a sacrifice for her to demand. She didn’t know what she’d do without it, but she would find something. There had to be some other way to disguise herself.
Misao sighed. “Whatever you’re here to do, it’s important, right? Or future me wouldn’t have approved of it.”
She reached up and started to untie her mask. It came away in her hands, and she wordlessly held it out to Yuki.
Yuki stared down at it. Her eyes filled with tears, but she held them at bay.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Misao gave her a nod. “Okay, now turn around and I’ll tie it on for you,” she said.
Yuki held the mask to her face and felt Misao’s deft fingers secure it in place with a knot.
“Alright, Hyper Misao superfan, let’s get you into that crowd,” Misao said with determination.
She helped Yuki get to the main area from backstage without being seen, and then she departed with a salute.
Yuki made her way into the crowded room. The show was sold out, but she did manage to find an unoccupied seat. No one seemed to recognize her, which was a relief.
She was so distracted, it was a bit hard to enjoy the earlier portion of the show, though it was interesting watching just as a nameless fan and not as a wrestler herself.
Will this be what it’s like for Akai soon? she wondered. But Akai had such a distinctive build, she’d doubtlessly get recognized right away. As much as Akai wanted to watch just as a fan, Yuki doubted that the other fans would ever see her as anything other than a former wrestler.
After Yuka Sakazaki and Mizuki’s match—another bittersweet watch, considering Yuka’s upcoming graduation—Yuki tried to emotionally prepare herself for the main event.
Rika Tatsumi’s music started to play, and Misao and Rika walked out, both carrying signs. Rika was waving hers around wildly, which made it a bit difficult to read, but Misao held hers in front of her face.
Naturally, Rika and Misao were campaigning against Saki Akai’s retirement. Yuki couldn’t help but bear a futile hope that they’d somehow win and convince Akai not to go through with it.
Misao moved the sign away from her face, lifting it high and proud, and the crowd let out a collective gasp of surprise when they noticed that her face was uncovered.
Yuki reached up and touched the mask on her own face.
She threw some streamers for Misao during her entrance, both to keep up her disguise as a fan, and to show her genuine thanks for everything that Misao had done for her. Truthfully, the streamers were the least she could do.
Akai’s entrance music started to play, and Yuki felt a complicated ball of emotions form inside of her, but she wasn’t going to let herself cry. Not yet.
Yuki brought the roll of streamers to her mouth and kissed them through her mask, then threw them into the air, watching her line of color join the red and white streaks of paper covering the ring like a web around Akai.
Misao and Rika stepped forward for the handshake. To Yuki’s surprise, Akai accepted Misao’s handshake, and Misao didn’t even take the opportunity to turn it into an attack.
Of course, immediately afterward, Misao asked for the mic. She grabbed the mic holding her sign in her other hand.
“Hello Big Children, we are the National Anti Saki Retirement Union, thank you for showing up at our town hall meeting. Normally I’d be wearing a mask, but I was concentrating too hard on remembering the signs, and I totally forgot to bring one. But today’s match was too important to miss!”
She lifted the sign in the air, walking around the ring so that the crowd on all four sides had the chance to read it.
“We're gonna stop Akai from retiring!” Misao said. “We still want to see Akai in the ring! We love Saki Akai! If you agree with me, then scream!”
Yuki added her voice to that of the rest of the crowd.
The match started. Misao wasted no time and ran over and attacked Akai with the sign immediately.
Yuki had watched the match already, so it didn’t bring many surprises.
None of the wrestlers held back. Rika did not hesitate to choke Akai, and Misao brought out her can of cold spray, just like usual.
When Akai tagged in Kamiyu, Yuki felt a spark of jealousy flare up within her.
How ironic, that she would be jealous of Kamiyu here after Kamiyu had spent so much of the previous year being jealous of Yuki for getting the chance to tag with Akai.
Kamiyu and Akai worked together like they were made to be a team.
Rika got her chance to square off against Akai, and then she tagged out to Misao.
Akai seemed to be getting tired. Yuki wondered if maybe Misao might actually have a chance today, even though the only thing that was different was her lack of a mask.
But of course, it turned out to be a ploy by Akai to trick Misao into making one of the same mistakes that Yuki had made in their singles match a week earlier. Feigning exhaustion, Akai goaded Misao into running full speed at her, and then Akai pulled down the rope so that Misao tumbled over it.
Misao fared a little better than Yuki had, though. She managed to dodge out of the way of the answering attack, then regained control of the match, landing a solid move on Akai on the apron. But Akai got her back with a kick.
Then, both of them exhausted, Akai reached down and helped Misao up, rolling her into the ring. Akai rolled in after her, then went for the pin.
After Misao kicked out, it was all Akai again, somehow finding a second wind. Misao clutched at her legs for a moment, then she hit Akai, and Akai shoved her back. They exchanged strikes, Misao slowly getting to her feet.
Misao swung Akai around by the wrist and managed to land a knee to her face. Akai kicked out of her pin attempt. Then Misao grabbed Akai, gathering her arms around Akai’s back. Even knowing what was to come, Yuki’s breath caught. Is she about to go for the… she wondered.
But Akai got free before Misao could execute the move. She landed a couple kicks, then went for the Rookie of the Year Award, but Misao found the strength to dodge out of the way. Rika ran in with a hip attack on Akai, buying Misao a little more time.
Akai managed to turn their team offense against them, and Kamiyu ran in and took care of Rika, leaving Misao and Akai once again alone in the ring.
Akai hit the Rookie of the Year Award, then set up for the Quetzalcoatl, just like how she’d put down Yuki.
But Misao had some fire left in her after all. She freed herself, then she once again had her arms between Akai’s elbows over her back, and this time she managed to do it.
The Vanitas.
Tears welled up in Yuki’s eyes as she watched it. Misao had brought that move out from a deep part of herself. Yuki thought of Misao and Sakisama in the garden, and she wondered if in that moment, Misao was thinking of it, too. Thinking about that beautiful summer when she and Sakisama were on top of the world, and it felt like the roses would last forever.
Misao and Akai lay there on their backs for a long moment. Misao didn’t have the strength to try to cover her. Slowly, she tried to get up, but she was unable to make the crawl over to Akai’s prone body in time.
On their hands and knees, they found each other. They clutched at each other, heads held close, and helped each other rise.
Then, on their knees, they started to exchange strikes. Yelling, Misao got to her feet, and Akai stood, too, and Misao hit her over and over, like if she hit Akai enough times, maybe she would somehow come to her senses and decide to stay.
Akai went for a kick, which Misao managed to dodge. But then Akai captured Misao’s arm and raised her hand high.
It was over. Yuki knew before Akai hit the move that it was over.
Yuki choked back a sob as Akai brought Misao down onto the mat with the Quetzalcoatl, and referee Kiso rushed over to count the pin in what would be Akai’s second last TJPW match.
As Akai’s music played, she went over to comfort Misao, just as she had done for Yuki.
Misao hadn’t been able to avoid her fate this time, either.
Yuki listened as Rika grabbed the mic and thanked Akai. The other wrestlers came into the ring for this part, and Yuki felt a pang of longing in her chest. She wanted to be up there with the rest of them.
“My memories of Akai-san are countless, and from here… I can’t put it into words right now. I’m not good at conveying it in words!” Rika said. “I still want to fight Akai-san in a pro wrestling match! Everyone else does, too, right? There are some wrestlers who still haven’t fought you yet. You’re gonna fight everyone in TJPW! Starting NOW! Please fight everyone here!”
Akai tried to refuse, clearly tired after fighting what was already her second match of the day. The other wrestlers were pushing for her to fight, and the crowd booed her when she attempted to refuse.
Akai turned toward Rika. “Rika-san… I know you’re passionate, but—”
Rika interrupted her with a slap.
When Akai got back on the mic and approached her again, her voice had a totally different tone to it. The slap had brought out the scary side of her that Yuki both feared and respected.
“Thanks. That woke me up,” Akai said. “Alright everyone, bring it on!”
The bell rung, kicking off the match. Saki Akai vs everyone at TJPW, minus Yuki Arai. This would be Akai’s final TJPW match.
Kamiyu fought Akai first, holding nothing back despite having been Akai’s tag partner moments ago. Then one by one, the others on the roster all got their chance, too.
Nodoka Tenma made a surprise appearance, joining in on TJPW’s side. Akane Miura showed up, too. Then Yuka and Miyu rolled in representative Tetsuya Koda himself, but when Yuka and Rika launched him at Akai, she countered him easily with a boot to the face, and he rolled out of the ring after taking a PK from Akai.
Akai faced Miyu Yamashita next, the only person on the roster with whom she still had unfinished business with.
Yuki watched Daydream execute a tag move together, then they tagged out to the Magical Sugar Rabbits, who attacked together. Yuka hit a 619 in her former tag partner Shoko Nakajima’s stead, as Shoko was unable to be there for the show.
Yuka tagged out to Misao, who tried one last ill-fated ploy. She presented a letter to Akai, in the style of Kazuki Hirata, whom Akai had faced earlier that day in her last singles match.
But when Akai opened the letter, it was empty.
Misao tried to take the opportunity to roll her up, but Akai caught Misao in an armbar, and Misao had no choice but to quickly tap out, losing to Akai for the second time that day.
Neither of us could change our fate… Yuki thought.
Misao essentially verbally gave Akai the contents of the would-be letter, repeating the same thing she’d said in the original version of this match. The only difference was without her mask, the tears were openly streaming down her face. She tried to cover her face a few times as if embarrassed, and Yuki touched the mask again, feeling guilty for having it when Misao was the one up there on stage in front of everyone.
“Until we faced off in this match today, I avoided thinking about it, or rather there was a part of me that couldn’t face the fact that you were retiring,” Misao said. “I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want my story in the ring with Akai-san to end. And it’s not just me, but everyone here at TJPW… and the many other wrestlers who adore Akai-san, and the audience, too, all of us.”
Yuki cried beneath the mask. I don’t want my story with Akai-san to end, either, she thought.
“But in this match at the end, she took in all of our feelings,” Misao continued. “And I thought, ‘This is not the end.’ What Akai-san showed us in the ring, her determination to stand in the ring… Seeing you, strong, noble, beautiful, and honest to the core, we received it from you anew, so many unyielding qualities within us. This is the last time that you will fight us in TJPW, but this isn’t the end… You’ll always be with us, living on inside of our hearts. For all of us at TJPW, you will always be our proud big sister.”
Yuki cried even harder as Akai and Misao embraced, and then the members of the roster presented Akai with a bouquet and a memento.
Akai got on the mic and spoke about feeling grateful for getting included in the TJPW tradition, and about how TJPW is going to keep growing from here. She gave advice to the younger wrestlers, then to the older ones.
“To the older girls, depend on people when you need to, and make sure that you yourself are working hard to lead TJPW forward. Keep lifting up the younger girls higher and higher. Having said that, don’t work hard alone, because you have so many friends here working together with you.”
Yuki listened to the end of Akai’s speech, then watched the other wrestlers gather in the ring for photos and embraces, and in that moment, she had never felt more alone.
It was almost like she had gone back in time just to get her heart broken all over again.
The wrestlers left the ring, and Yuki left not long after.
Misao found her sitting outside, crying to herself.
“There you are!” Misao said. “I was looking all over for you.”
“Sorry,” Yuki said, sniffling. “You probably want your mask and shirt back, right?”
“Yes, but that’s not important!” Misao said. “You need to go backstage! Akai-san hasn’t left yet!”
“Huh?” Yuki looked up at her, her eyes blurry with tears.
“The rest of us got to show her how we felt in the ring, but you didn’t. You need to go tell her in person. That’s what you came back to do, right?”
Slowly, Yuki nodded.
Misao held out a hand. Yuki stared at it for a long moment, then reached out and took it, letting Misao help her up.
Still holding her hand, Misao took her backstage. As they walked, Yuki tried to banish her tears, wanting to be able to face Akai and say what she wanted to say plain and clear. No more hiding.
“Alright, I told her to wait in the hallway over here,” Misao said, turning to face Yuki. She squeezed Yuki’s hand, then let go.
Yuki reached up and untied the mask with shaking fingers, handing it back to her.
Then Misao nodded at her, and Yuki nodded back.
Yuki turned around. She took a deep breath. Then she walked around the corner.
“Akai-san!” she called out.
Akai was standing at the end of the hallway, facing the opposite direction. She turned when Yuki called out to her, and her eyes widened with surprise.
“Yuki-chan?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
Yuki started walking toward her, and Akai met her in the middle of the hallway.
“Before you retire, there’s something I have to say,” Yuki said. “I only have the courage to tell you now because you won’t remember this conversation afterward, but—”
Akai looked confused, but before she could ask what Yuki meant by that, Yuki just kept going.
“When we first started teaming up, I tried to accept our tag team as a temporary thing, but I couldn’t do it,” Yuki said. “I knew you wouldn’t be around forever, and that you were only mentoring me for the time being, but I couldn’t help it. I fell for you anyway. I wanted more, even knowing that I couldn’t get it.”
“Yuki-chan…” Akai started.
“No, I’m not done,” Yuki said. “I understand why you’re doing it, and it’s your own choice, but I hope you realize how cruel it is for you to leave like this. You never gave me a chance to meet you on your level. You left when I could never beat you, without ever giving me a chance to try again.”
Tears started to form in Yuki’s eyes, and frustrated, she wiped them away.
“And I tried, you know. I tried and tried and tried. I went back again and again and again, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t beat you. Because I’m just not strong enough at this point in my career. I just need more time, and time is the one thing I don’t have!”
Yuki looked for guilt in Akai’s gaze, but all she saw was pity.
“There’s something I have to ask. I know what your answer will be, but I have to ask anyway, because if I never ask, I’ll never know if it might have made a difference.” Yuki took a breath. “Is there any chance that you’ll reconsider your retirement? Because I’m not ready to give you up. I still need you. I love you!”
Yuki’s voice broke, and she had to stop talking for a minute and attempt to regain her composure.
“Yuki-chan…” Akai said. “I want you to know that I greatly enjoyed my time as a pro wrestler, and with you specifically.”
Yuki heard the “but…” in her voice before Akai had even finished the sentence.
“But it’s time for me to move on and live a normal life,” Akai said. “Pro wrestling is all I’ve known for most of my adulthood. I want to see what else is out there for me. I want to have new experiences, meet new people, go to new places. It’s not personal, believe me. I’m not leaving because you weren’t enough—I’m leaving for my own sake, because I want to see what the rest of the world holds for me.”
Yuki choked back her tears.
“You’re still so young,” Akai said. And Yuki hated it. She hated how people always said that about her, emphasizing how much potential she had, how much growth she had left to do, how far away she was from all of the real adults who knew what they were doing in this world.
“You will go on to have so many incredible experiences without me,” Akai continued. “You’ll meet new people, make new friends, fall in love… So many wonderful things await you. If you go out there and let yourself experience them, you’ll forget all about me.”
Yuki was shaking her head, but she couldn’t voice her objection. She would stop just short of begging Akai to stay.
“Can I ask for just one more selfish thing?” Yuki asked.
Akai nodded.
“Can you kiss me one last time? Because the last time you did, I didn't know that it would be our last kiss, and I didn't cherish it like I should have.”
Akai’s lips parted, and for a moment, Yuki thought that Akai was going to refuse, but instead Akai stepped closer, taking Yuki’s face in her hands.
Then Akai leaned down and Yuki leaned up and their lips touched, and it was everything Yuki had remembered, everything she had dreamed of, all of the possibilities and the bitter longings she had felt, all of the pasts she had relived, all of the futures she had yearned for.
It was everything except the present.
And by the time it had started, it was already over.
Akai pulled away first. She took a step back, putting some distance between them again. Yuki tried to find her words, but there was nothing left for her to say. She had put it all into that kiss.
“Goodbye, Akai-san,” Yuki said with a short bow.
“Goodbye, Yuki-chan.”
Yuki turned around and started to walk away. She waited for Akai to call out to her, but there was nothing. She almost turned to see if Akai was watching her leave, but she forced herself to keep going without looking back.
When she reached the end of the hallway, she hit the button that would take her back to the present, and erased it all.
Back in the Chamber of Spirit and Time, Yuki brought her knees up and leaned forward into them. Misao patted her on the back as she cried.
Eventually, the tears ran dry, and Yuki set her feet down on the floorboard and leaned back in the seat.
“Did it help?” Misao asked.
“No—yes?” Yuki said. “I don’t know,” she confessed.
“Well, do you feel better now at least?”
“I think so,” Yuki said. “I got to say some things I had been wanting to say for a long time. And got to see that it made basically no difference anyway.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. I needed to hear it, I think. I guess it leaves me with no choice, huh?”
“The only path left is forward,” Misao said. “I’m afraid the Chamber can’t help with that one. This bad boy can only go backwards.” She reached out and lovingly tapped the control panel.
“I just wish that…” Yuki trailed off. “No, it’s impossible. The window has passed; it’s too late…”
“You wish that what?” Misao asked.
“I know what I want to change about October 27,” Yuki said. “Not the match—I’ve accepted that I lost. There’s something else I wish I’d answered differently.”
“Well, I mean…” Misao paused, like she was considering whether or not it was a good idea to finish her sentence. “How much time do you think it would take?”
“Like three minutes tops?”
Slowly Misao reached forward. She started fiddling with the dials again, setting the date back to a week earlier. Yuki reached over and set the time very carefully, estimating it to the best of her ability, knowing that she didn’t have many extra minutes to spare.
Yuki stepped out of the Chamber so that Misao could exit, then she got into the driver’s seat. Taking a breath, she reached over and flipped the switch, and the Chamber started up again.
The machine seemed to chug a bit, almost like it was struggling to pull up the older date on its navigation system.
“What are you going to do?” Misao asked, yelling over the noise.
Yuki smiled.
“I’m going back to change my future,” she said.
Then the light flashed, and the rumble of the machine became the rumble of background noise at Korakuen Hall.
Yuki opened her eyes and waited for the questions from the interviewers.
From Tokyo Sports on October 27, 2023, following the special singles match between Yuki Arai and Saki Akai:
With Akai’s retirement, the short history of AA Cannon also comes to an end. “AA Cannon is a tag team that is just the two of us, Akai-san and myself,” Arai said. “I want to find someone. The tag tournament will be starting next year, and I can’t participate in it in my current state without a partner,” she said, embarking on a search for a new partner.
After winning the Tag Team Championship with Akai, she has grown tremendously, making her first defense at the Nagoya Congress Center Event Hall in September last year, among other accomplishments. “I want to be proactive in finding a new partner, and I want to wear the belt that I wore with Akai-san and feel relieved. It would definitely be emotional.”
It was a beautiful day in Paris, and two women stood beneath a copse of trees on a small hill, keeping out of the sun.
Mei Saint-Michel stomped her feet. “I’m bored!” she complained. “We didn’t go far enough into the past! I thought you said I could have a pet dinosaur, and have a tea party with a samurai warlord. But we’re still in the Reiwa era!”
Sakisama gazed down at the garden, taking in the sight of the roses. Where she was standing, she could just barely catch the aroma of the petals on the wind.
“We’ll go soon,” Sakisama assured Mei. “Just… in a bit.”
She watched a pair of women walking arm in arm through the garden. One of the women was her exact mirror, except four years younger. The other woman carried a rose scepter, glinting in the early afternoon light.