Hikari 004: I'm Alive

It is sudden. A flash so bright that it blinds her temporarily, accompanied by the sickening sensation of flame singeing her flesh. Everything else is a blur to her, the match, the arrival of her mentor, the battle that takes place later in the night. Ultimately it is that one moment which stands out to Hikari the most as she lays on her bed, safely in her Seattle apartment. Rain pounds the window relentlessly, the sound reverberating in her sparsely furnished bedroom. There hasn’t been much time for her to make it more homey, so those sounds echo much more freely. Occasionally she winces at one of the louder impacts, which in turn just causes the pain to intensify.

Though it’s been days since the incident which granted her a victory over Julia Hart, Hikari’s right eye is still extra sensitive to pain. This sting that is triggered by her reactions to the heavy rain? It is an exquisite pain that seeps deep into her and ripples through her face and down her arms and legs to her fingertips and toes. In turn it brings on a pounding headache, which itself brings another memory to light. A kick that might as well have taken her head off, aided by a ring bell hammer. Reliving these moments causes Hikari to trace the pain which they accompany.

First her finger rests on her forehead, and the cruel, twisted face of Momo Watanabe comes to mind. Such a strong, violent woman! No care for anything in the world apart from punishing her opponents. Slowly Hikari’s fingers find their way to her right eye, and she sees Julia Hart’s condescending smile. The pain inflicted by Momo had been expected, but not the pain inflicted by Julia. A true surprise, a pain that even a deathmatch lover like Hikari won’t forget for a long time. Her fingers brush against a more sensitive spot and Hikari tenses up from the pain. Exquisite indeed! Not since her last deathmatch has she felt like this. Given how memorable these gifts are, she intends to ensure that those who inflicted them get the same gifts in return. It’s only fair after all.

Exquisite though it might be, Hikari generally would prefer not to be experiencing it. Inflicting it is another story though. Thoughts about the women she’s fought or will soon fight careen through her mind like an unlicensed teenage driver on a joyride. Each one of them is going to be given this kind of pain very very soon. February 12th isn’t that far off now. Just like always, Hikari is heading into a war against the world by herself. Some of the most dangerous women in the world are waiting for her, so what else can she do but tap into the darkness within herself? So far her skill alone has been enough to earn her victories, but now she has the chance to unleash her full range of talents. Four women are trapped in this match with her, about to experience the chaotic brilliance of the Deathmatch Princess. The amount of assaults one can commit with a ladder alone is delightful!

It makes her laugh, which then just makes her headache worse. So Hikari finally gives in and slowly rolls off of her bed, feet planting themselves firmly on the cold wooden floor. The pounding in her head hits a fever pitch and Hikari clutches it. Outside the shower intensifies and Hikari thinks to her opponents again. All of them have someone in their corner to support them. Momo has the creepy old man, Jamie has the funny small guy, Julia has those 90s teen movie rejects and Sasha has the big scary woman. What does she have apart from this pain? Kagetsu, in theory, but the woman has been nowhere to be seen since Vengeance. Her old friend had been ambushed as well the same night, so once again Hikari is on her own.

It hurts worse than the headache or lingering sting around her eye do. Hikari’s grip on her head intensifies until her fingers clamp down hard on her scalp. Chaotic brilliance or no, does she really stand any chance now? When everyone else leaves her behind, isn’t it for a reason? A stream of pained tears rolls down her cheeks for what must be the twelfth time this week alone. Her pain is real. You can only feign strength so long before the truth breaks through. Maybe she can’t do this after all.

A girl of 19 sits in a cold metal folding chair, awaiting word of her fate. Sweat drenched hair clings to every centimeter of exposed skin, and her body aches from the intense physical effort of this day. The cold of the cramped office and the exposed steel send chills down her spine but she’s felt worse. She’s from the coldest reaches of Japan after all; an average winter in Hokkaido is far worse than what is, by comparison, mild discomfort. Hikari Noa has come all the way to Tokyo for this one chance to realize her dream of becoming a professional wrestler. Since middle school she’s seen the warriors of the squared circle battle it out on her TV screen and wanted badly to be among them. Now, her fate rests in the hands of a single woman, the trainer of TJPW who administers and adjudicates the exams for aspiring grapplers.

The trainer who has power over Hikari's dreams and ambitions speaks stiffly and formally. Considering how direct and informal she’s been throughout the exam process, that’s not a good sign. Such a drastic change in tone bears ill omens. Hikari shifts in the folding chair, trying in vain to get a little more comfortable while she waits for the other shoe to drop. In the office there’s a small desk behind which the woman sits - folders of A4 papers are everywhere, a battered laptop which has taken as much abuse as a deathmatch veteran sits in the center. On the walls are framed pictures of past matches and friendships the trainer has forged in her own career. Highlights of an unforgettable lifetime spent battling the best in the world; it’s a future Hikari wishes with all her heart to have for herself. Friendships forged in training and battle, a wrestling family who share their highs and lows with each other. Plus the chance to bask in the drama and action of a deathmatch herself! All of that rests in this woman’s decision. Her expression tells the tale of doom awaiting Hikari's hopes and dreams.

Her tone clearly indicates there’s a ‘but’ coming. An exception that Hikari can see inevitably coming for those hopes and dreams like wooden skewers to one’s forehead. No matter what you do to avoid or counter the attack, they’re coming for blood. Without a single further word she knows that this is unlikely to be a happy ending for her. The corners of her eyes begin to tremble and moisten; she knows what’s coming. A death blow. Hikari has the strength to hold the tears back, to look the trainer in the eyes as she delivers the verdict.

<Unfortunately, you’re not quite where we need you to be as a wrestler. It wouldn’t be safe to put you in the ring right now, Noa-san. I’m afraid the answer is no.>

Her hands ball up into fists as the cold, hard facts wash over her. No matter how much she’s trained herself or how much she loves this sport, she’s not good enough to pass the test. No passing the test means no chance to debut as a wrestler. Hikari’s dreams are in tatters and all she can do is sit there and suffer through the devastating news. Despite herself the tears roll down her cheeks, making her even more of a mess to look at. She can’t look at the trainer anymore without the pain being compounded worse still. Is this it? The end of her dreams sentencing her to a mundane life of a thankless job that slowly kills her from the inside out? Even amongst the sorrow and pain, there’s a voice that screams at her to fight. With the world pushing her toward a cliff, she needs to push back. So even when she’s seeing her dreams wilt in front of her, Hikari suddenly grows bold.

Ascension draws closer, the war to determine the first women’s champion in the company’s history is on the horizon. Hikari Noa still feels the haunting doubt which has recently crept into her mind. Four other women who the world thinks deserve to be there more than her wait for Hikari in New York. All of them are bigger than her, both in terms of star power and actual size. Despite her recent winning streak, smart bets are on anyone but Hikari to win the championship in New York City.

Then again, smart bets would have been on her not becoming a pro wrestler after she failed the exam with TJPW. A few years later, she’s in the biggest wrestling promotion the world has ever known. She’s begun to find popularity with international fans and has a t-shirt that sells very well. Her catchphrase is a rallying cry for all of the fans she’s won over since making her western debut in January. Odds or not, HIkari Noa has a chance - she always has a chance. Those doubts remain to be sure, but she’s also begun focusing more on the Queen of the Mountain match.

With it but a few days away now, she’s arrived in New York City for the first time in her life. All of the bright lights, bustling streets and innumerable people moving about reminds her of Tokyo. Then, as now, she lives far away from the place where her destiny awaits her. She’s come to the next such place this evening, part out of curiosity and part out of nerves. As the buzz of the evening commute and heightened volume of foot traffic envelop her, she has eyes only for the sign above the glass doors before her. Madison Square Garden. Even in Japan, it’s known as a very important place for American pro wrestling. Is she ready to fight in a place like this?

Rain pelts her bare head, bringing on the headache again. That pain is like an old friend, one of few she can still rely on to be present in her life. If anything it’s a reminder that she’s still here, she’s still alive. If she’s alive, she can fight. And if she can fight, she can win. So through that pain, Hikari pulls one hand out of her jacket pocket and reaches out to touch the building. Maybe, she thinks, if she touches it she’ll find her bearings more. It’s the most prestigious venue she’s fought in since Kourakuen Hall, the mecca of Japanese wrestling. The same place where she won the first championship in her career, against a larger wrestler everyone else thought would win no less.

As she recalls that night, she also recalls that all of these feelings and doubts are not new. Before that battle in Kourakuen she felt overwhelmed and alone. Perhaps not as alone as she feels now, but not terribly dissimilar. She went into the ring against a woman who’d beaten her for the then-vacant title. And despite everything, Hikari Noa found a way to beat her. This brings a slight smile to her face, even as tears again roll down her cheek at the thoughts of what she’s lost. Hikari Noa always finds a way.

The middle of a training ring in a dojo that was once a small storehouse in Tokyo. It’s well illuminated to allow the women within to train properly, though most have gone home. Left, right, left, right, step over and jump! On a blue gym mat with some duct tape hastily used for patching the holes of wear and tear, she runs through the routine for the tenth time without respite. Sweat drenches every inch of her body and wild strands of hair have wriggled loose from her ponytail. Her muscles ache and burn from the hours of conventional training she did before diving back into this. If she stops, though, they’ll stiffen up and deny her the ability to continue practicing. She needs to get this routine down so that she doesn’t disappoint people.

It falls to Hikari Noa to entertain the fans not only with exciting fights, but also exciting song and dance routines. This is how she’s able to live her dream of being a professional wrestler. When the front door was slammed shut on her by failing the pro test, Hikari just found a back door to slip inside. Now she’s an idol as well as a wrestler, but she knows that she has to work just that extra bit harder to keep up with the former. For her friends it comes more easily, but for her it always feels a little bit unnatural. But she can do this.

Nearly at the end of the song, the endless reps finally catch up with her. Hikari’s left foot catches on the back of her right and she loses her balance. With a solid thud, the Deathmatch Princess falls unceremoniously on her rear end. While the music ends, Hikari tries to pull herself up off the mat but her left ankle cramps right on cue. She sighs and flops down, staring up at the wooden beams supporting the roof of her dojo. For a long while she just watches the dust particles floating in the air, things you wouldn’t even notice were it not for the spotlight being thrust upon them. Not unlike a kid from Hokkaido who went through an odd back door to chase her dream. How long had she been floating along before getting this spotlight, this chance? Too long is the best answer her mind can conjure. A voice from above shakes her from her thoughts.

<Hikari-chan, are you okay? You’ve been going at this pretty hard.>

She doesn’t look to see who it is; she’s so lost in her own thoughts and determination to get this right that she doesn’t process it. What Hikari knows for sure is that her body is near its limits. Much more of this and she might hurt herself before her next match, which is out of the question. On the other hand, if she screws up the song with her clumsiness it’s going to make everyone look bad. That’s also out of the question. So Hikari takes a deep breath and painfully sits up, pulling herself to her knees. After a drawn out moment she can feel her legs are a bit sturdier - she can keep going.

<I’m alive. Let’s do it again.>

As she stands there, one hand on the side of the arena, the rain lets up a tiny bit. Not a ton, but enough that she can tell the difference. That pounding in her head is weaker now as well. Hikari takes a deep breath of the rain soaked air and lets it cleanse her. Things hurt right now, but she’s gotten very good at pushing through that pain. Loneliness can’t stop her - she just throws her energy into the fight to come, throws every fiber of her being at anyone who crosses her path. Muscle Barbie, Cheerleader and the already forgotten Youtube opponents were overcome by her love of the fight. Or just violence. She’s taken plenty of abuse on the road here. The way things were, Hikari just has momentos to remind her just how much she wants to pummel everyone on her way up the mountain.

Hikari looks over her shoulder and sees Kagetsu standing there. Gone is the fine white suit, replaced by very casual clothes. Last time Hikari saw her Kagetsu was at the hotel arranging a dinner reservation. The arena’s a decently long trip on foot from the hotel, so it must be urgent. Yet there’s no other shoe to drop. Nothing about the woman suggests anything but concern for Hikari. Hikari takes a deep breath in response and lowers her hand.

The statement is blunt, to the point and yet also vague enough that Kagetsu has no response immediately. An awkward break in conversation is interrupted only by the static of faceless others passing by. Finally, Kagetsu finds a few words.

She brushes a strand of soaked hair out of her face and brushes her right eye again. A flinch and a smile result.

A disjointed smile as she touches her eyepatch again.

<I’m alive, and I’m coming for all of them.>