Mexico City General Hospital
24 hours after Gang Wars
Takuma once again found himself in a hospital bed, zonked out on pain killers, frustrated with the beating he took at the hands of Valora and her henchmen, "None More Black." He knew Valora would be mad at him for the beat down he gave her protege Abbigail Dresden at Friday Night Clash 17 during their steel cage match. He just didn't think someone he once considered a friend would take her revenge that far. Together they brutalized him with a baseball bat and broke multiple ribs. The attack had caused internal bleeding in his sternum and left him in poor shape for his big match against Valora at Ultra Slam.
Sato: Fuck!
Sato let out a loud groan as he tried to adjust the bed higher. His ribcage was heavily wrapped, and so was his forehead. There was an IV hooked to his right arm that a nurse was using to administer more pain medication intravenously. The nurse was a Hispanic woman with long dark black hair who looked oddly a bit like Valora, which wasn't helping Takuma keep his mind off what had happened. Several times, the nurse had walked into the room, and Sato had mistaken her for Valora. He chalked it up to the drugs making him paranoid, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Valora might try to finish him off for good in his weakened state.
Nurse: No se preocupe Sr. Sato lo peor ya pasó. Solo tenemos que manejar su nivel de dolor ahora. El médico detuvo la hemorragia interna de su riñón y férulas.
Sato: My Spanish isn't that good. Any chance you speak English?
Nurse: Lo siento. The doctor stopped the internal bleeding from your kidney and your spline. I said, don't worry, the worst is over. We just have to manage your pain level now.
Sato: Well, maybe my fortune is starting to turn around then. God knows I've been through the wringer the last few weeks.
Nurse: Sí señor. My husband watches you on the television. He roots for you even when many here in my country are angry with you over your vendetta with Ms. Salinas. He said you are a small but skilled fighter and that your fight with Valora's student was very out of character. That is why she and her teammates did this to you, am I not correct?
Sato: Yes, well, if Valora Salinas knew the whole story, maybe she wouldn't have done what she did to me with her friends. I've been put into a horrible position by some very wealthy and powerful men. I didn't have much choice. I don't know why I'm telling you this, maybe it's the drugs, but if I ever want to see my mother again, I have to do what they demand.
Nurse: Ahh... blackmail. A twisted tool, but one that can wield such a powerful fighter like yourself, would be very advantageous to the elite, I would imagine.
Sato let out a loud sigh. The pain he was in was nothing like when he broke his hand; this was a deep searing pain from within that would radiate throughout his body.
Sato: I feel like I've just been a pawn on the chess board the last few months. I thought I could trust Dasha and the Russians! I mean, even my teammates turned on me during this match. It's like Valora somehow convinced everyone to gang up on me!
Nurse: Lo siento. It seems you learned a valuable lesson, señor Sato. Never trust the Russians. Try to get some rest; I'll be back in a few hours to check on you.
The nurse dimmed the lights and walked out of the patient care room. Sato waited for a few minutes, then ripped the IV out of his arm and gingerly got out of bed. The pain drugs were interfering with his ability to use his chakra to heal himself, as he did a year ago when he broke his hand. He wasn't exactly Wolverine from Marvel comics, but with long periods of meditation, he could heal almost twice as fast as the next human being. Hopefully, he could get to Chichen Itza early enough to use this incredible gift. With enough time, he could spend the rest of the week attempting to heal up for his big championship match against Valora for the submission Championship.
Sato took his time and used his athletic skill to stealthily circumvent the nurses, doctors, and security team on his floor. Once he'd found the stairwell exit, he quietly and slowly made his way down to the ground floor. Before he knew it, he'd left the hospital against doctors' orders and had successfully hailed a cab. When the Taxi driver pulled into the motel he'd been staying at, Amber was outside their room, sitting in a lawn chair smoking a cigarette with her legs crossed.
Amber had recently cut her long black hair into a pixie punk rocker-like haircut. She wore a white tanktop with no bra and a tight pair of black booty shorts that exposed almost all her newly tanned legs. She had on hooped earrings and bright red lipstick, which some of had rubbed onto and stained the butt end of her cigarette. She seemed confused at first until she saw Sato exit the cab, and then her expression turned to anger.
Amber: Takuma, what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the hospital resting! Valora and goons nearly fucking killed you last night!
Sato: I'm fine, Amber! I need to heal on my own! The way my father trained me to heal! There is nothing more they can do for me at the hospital at this point anyway!
Amber: Oh, come on! You're so stubborn! Why can't you do what the doctors ask you to do like a normal person!
Sato: Look, just pack your things, alright! I want to leave as soon as possible to get some rest before Ultra Slam!
Amber: You're not going actually to fight her, are you? She's psychotic! You beat up her girlfriend or whatever in a steel cage match. Big deal? Abbigail is a big girl! She's a fighter; sometimes fighters take a beating!
Sato gave his girlfriend an angry stare. He wasn't proud of what he'd done to his former tag team partner. He considered Abbigail Dresden one of his closest friends in wrestling before their cage match. Allen Anderson, however, wanted her hurt so that he could get at Valora, and it worked just as he'd hoped.
Sato: What's your point, Amber?
Amber: That crazy bitch tried to kill you! She beat you to within an inch of your life with a baseball bat while those two nimrods held you in place! I doubt Abbigail had a ruptured spline and a torn kidney after you fought each other! I heard she hired None More Black and paid off your teammates to throw you under the bus just so that she could sadistically take revenge on you. Everyone backstage was talking about it after the show.
Sato: Make sense in retrospect, but hindsight's twenty-twenty. I'm not afraid to fight Valora one-on-one. Plus, I want my submission championship belt back before we head to Japan. I don't have a choice either, according to Allen Anderson. He wants me to make Valora have to take a long break from wrestling after our match.
Amber: Men... you're all the same. So full of pride. Valora is out for blood, and maybe you can beat her, but she's not going to let you take that belt without making sure she hurts you and, I mean, hurts you real bad for what you did to Abbigail.
Sato: Maybe, but it's what I signed up for when I chose to become a professional fighter in Ultimate Wrestling. Valora isn't any less dangerous in that ring or in a street fight for that matter than I am.
Amber: It's not about skill or fighting styles. You know I don't know shit about that stuff! It's just something about her personality. I can see it in her eyes whenever she's around. Even though she fights for the people and all the right reasons, something is off about her. Her eyes are cold; maybe it's because a part of my soul is gone forever because of my dark past... but I can tell something inside her died a long time ago. Maybe that's why Valora fights so hard now to improve the world? Perhaps she feels guilty about something she did before becoming a professional fighter.
Sato: You're probably right... In North Korea, Valora and Kronin seemed calmer than the rest. It was also pretty obvious she'd had weapons training. Jesus, the whole world was about to implode into a nuclear holocaust, and the entire time it just seemed like a walk in the park for her.
Amber: Maybe she used to be in the military?
Sato: It's possible.
Amber: Why not just come clean to her about the blackmail? You guys were friends once. For fuck sake, you've looked up to her as a role model since you joined Ultimate Wrestling.
Sato: I can't risk that, Amber. Anderson has people following me. There is an asshole in a van down the street, and I'm pretty sure he can monitor her cell calls somehow. This guy is the worst of the worst with friends in high places. I can't risk going to Valora and never seeing my mother again. Allen Anderson is the only source of communication I have with the Yakuza.
Amber: Fine. Do it your way then. I'm going back to the states, though. I'm not sticking around to see you get yourself killed. If somehow you can walk out of Ultra Slam alive, call me. I can't go through what I witnessed last night again. I need a break.
Sato: Amber, please...
Amber: No, look, I appreciate all that you did for me, and I care deeply for you, but there is a limit to how much I can watch someone I love to take a beating.
Sato: You love me?
Amber: I... I got to go.
Amber wiped away a few tears, opened the door to their motel room, and slammed it shut. She started packing her things as Takuma limped to the lawn chair she'd been sitting in and then sat down. He saw Amber had a cooler full of Mexican cervezas on ice. He cracked one open and began to chug it, quenching his thirst while easing some of the tension and pain. As he waited for Amber to finish, he must have gone through at least half a six-pack before the cab Amber had called for showed up.
The two embraced each other one last time without exchanging words, and Amber gave Takuma a passionate kiss before separating and getting inside the cab. Sato held out his right hand and gave her a wave, and she blew him a kiss. Sato grew emotional, and a few tears rolled down his cheeks just before Ivan Stricker pulled up in his turbo charge white Chrysler Lebaron convertible. Sato's manager shut the motor off and stepped out of his car before putting out a cigarette he'd been smoking on his way to the motel.
Ivan: Hey kid, what happened? You look like a bag of shit!
Sato: Amber left.
Ivan: Ah... tough break, kid. Honestly, she always seemed a little trashy for a nice guy like...
Sato slugged Stricker in the face as hard as he could and dropped him onto the dirty pavement of the motel parking lot. Ivan flailed around on the ground screaming in pain as Sato keeled over and scrunched down to his knees in extreme distress. However, Sato was upright in a flash, with a fire burning in his eyes and his right fist clenched.
Sato: Say something like that again about my girl, and I'll make sure you never fucking utter another word without sounding like Huckleberry's toothless granny. YOU HEAR ME!?
Ivan: What... the... fuck... man!?
Sato: You picked the wrong day to talk shit about, Amber! I don't even know why I even keep your ass around? I'm one of the top fighters in Ultimate Wrestling! I should be fighting Huckleberry for the Franchise title at Ultra Slam 2!
Ivan: I'm trying my best here, brother.
Sato: You're not my brother! Your some sleazeball who knew he could take advantage of my father's fucked up situation and make twenty percent on my winnings!
Ivan got on his hands and knees on the pavement and looked up at Sato, staring down at him. He couldn't believe his client had attacked him.
Ivan: Kid, I know you've been through some shit the last few weeks, but I'm one of your only real friends in this business. I agree that you should be at the top of the card, but it's not exactly like you've got many friends at M.O.X. I'm doing the best I can, but it's hard to manage and promote a guy who hangs; around with the Rebels of Society!
Sato snapped again and kicked Sticker straight in the face with a stiff front kick that knocked him onto his back. At this point, Ivan was missing a series of front teeth and was bleeding down his chin. He put his hands up in the air to defend himself from a further beat down, but Sato stopped and started screaming at him. The businessman seemed as frightened as when the Russian mob had kidnaped him.
Sato: You're done! You're fired! Get in your fucking stupid car and get the fuck out of here! I don't want to see you again!
Ivan scrambled to his feet and grabbed his driver's side door, holding to keep his balance before turning around all disheveled.
Ivan: Fine! Whatever you want, kid! Go your own way! You seem to be a great judge of character! Maybe you can team up with Dasha and the rest of the Russians again cause that worked out so well for you, didn't it!? I'm out of here! You'll be hearing from my lawyer too, by the way!
Sato: Won't be the first or the last time some rich douchebag sues me.
Stricker gave Sato the finger and peeled out of the motel parking lot like his life depended on it. Sato let out a loud painful sigh and then limped into the motel room before collapsing onto the mattress and passing out. He awoke twelve and half hours later with a pounding headache and an extreme sensitivity to the afternoon sun shining through his motel room window. He rolled slowly out of bed, walked over to the bathroom sink, splashed cold water on his face, and then stared at himself in the mirror.
Flashbacks from a night full of nightmares raced through his mind, and none of it made sense. Visions of America entangled in a brutal civil war between states who'd succeeded from the Union. Different versions of himself and others he'd recognized, like Valora, Abishag, and Kronin engulfed in these fights politically and on the battlefield. Vendredi too... always Vendredi... what about this man that continued to haunt him.
Sato dried his face, gingerly got dressed, and then made his way out of the motel room to his Kawasaki Ninja motorbike. After a few deep breaths, he kicked started his bike and rode out of the parking lot destined for Chichen Itza.
Chichen Itza, Mexico
24 hours before Ultra Slam
Sato sat down at his hotel desk and opened a silver grey Dell laptop before powering it on. He then hooked up a turtle beach gamer headset to the computer and put the headphones over his ears. After adjusting the microphone properly by his mouth, he launched the skype software and waited for the call. Suddenly the software began to alert him of a call and clicked the answer button. As soon as he did, a window revealed Ultimate Wrestling Referee and world-famous podcaster Bob Sigro of the "Sigro Experience" podcast show.
Sigro: Takuma, man! So excited to have you on the show! How are you feeling, bud? How are you?
Sato: I've felt better, Bob, but I'm alive and healing at a rapid pace trying to get ready for this war with Valora at Ultra Slam 2.
Sigro: No doubt, man, I've refereed most of both of your matches since we all started working Ultimate Wrestling. I can honestly say there are no two more fierce, more feared fighters in our federation than you two.
Sato: Well, no one's had a better vantage point than you, Bob. I think that win or lose for either of us, this match only adds to our legacies and fighters.
Sigro: Well, let's dig into that; you two were once close friends, and man, there has been a lot, and I mean a lot of bad blood recently, between you. Valora has been all over Me.Tube.com on Jane Coughlin's vlog, absolutely putting your name through the mud. At one point, she called you a Mama's boy whose mom never loved him or some shit like that.
Sato let out a loud sigh before speaking.
Sato: She called me a coward, a mama's boy. She said I'm a hypocrite regarding the honor code I live by.
Sigro: Well, does she kind of have a point? I mean, you broke her arm with the help of None More Black. Then, at the following Friday Night Clash, you ruthlessly took out her protege and your former tag team partner Abbigail Dresden in a steel cage match using your devastating "iron-fisted" heart punch.
Sato: My relationship with my mother is none of her business. She knows she has been missing for some time and is just trying to get under my skin. Valora likes to act like she knows everything about everything. Nothing I say is going to change her mind about what has transpired. All I can say is there have been a lot of things going on backstage that's forced my hand, and I can't speak about or get into it right now without it negatively impacting my personal life. All I can say is that I never wanted to be her Abbigail, and I regret what I must do to Valora at Ultra Slam 2 to ensure my survival and victory.
Sigro: I see well; hopefully, one day, you can share that with all of us. Do you feel Valoras experience as a hardcore wrestler is something that could throw you off your game?
Sato: I respect Valora as a fighter and have looked up to her for a long time. I know I am walking into a very dangerous submissions count anywhere; no holds barred match with a woman who excels in these types of conflicts. However, at the same time, my father trained me in Jeet Kune Do since I was four. There isn't an opponent or a hand-to-hand combat situation that frightens me.
Sigro: That's incredible. Where did your father learn the art Jeet Kun Do?
Sato: He was actually a rival of Bruce Lee's and was taught by the same master. My grandfather Yuri Sato was a good friend of Yip Man and trained under his master. A man from China, a Master Jan if I remember correctly. M grandfather taught with Yip Hong Kong during the late 1950s.
Sigro: Wow, that's incredible. I didn't know your roots in martial arts went that deep. Will have to put a pin in that and revisit it next time I have you on the podcast, but I wanted to get back into some of the things Valora had to say.
Sato: Absolutely.
Sigro: So during Gang Wars, I think everyone was shocked Valora had teamed with None More Black, who have two of the most brutal sons of bitches I've seen step into the ring.
Sato: Yeah, they definitely did a number on me. Rumor has it backstage that Valora hired them with her own money to get revenge for what I did to Abbigail.
Sigro: I don't want to sound like a conspiracy theorist, but I'm not sure if you're aware of this, but there's talk that also backstage that she paid the Russians you were teamed with to abandon you out there. At one point, I almost called the match because of the beating you were taking out there.
Sato: Look, I don't have proof of any of this. I'm not going to be like Valora and pretend I know everything. What I do know is that I'm ready for total war with her, and we're going to hash things out like gladiators in the arena at Ultra Slam 2! As far as Dasha Ivanova goes and her scum bag friends Sokolov and Drago. Watch your backs, mother fuckers, because I'm coming for you!
Sigro: Ooooh! Well, I'm fucking jacked! Wrestling fans were out of time, but fork out those dollars for the Pay Per View because this is not one you will want to miss!
To be continued after Ultra Slam 2.