
Kerry Kuroyama
THEN
Kerry Kuroyama felt frozen in time.
Body rapt with tension.
Four words unconsciously slipped out.
âI donât believe it.â
And yet, he was seeing it.
The blasphemy played out in beautiful, vibrant UHD, on a flatscreen that stretched ten feet from corner to corner.
Looking away wasnât exactly an option.
In the ring, one battered and broken body flopped its way across the chest of another.
The refâs hand slapped the mat.
A second time.
A third.
The bell sounded, making the result official.Â
Kerry felt his stomach turn.
âI donât fucking believe itâŠâ he repeated, as if trying to rouse himself from a living nightmare.
Nevertheless, he was wide awake.
And this was actually happening.
It was the tenth of February in the year of 2023.
Unquestionably the darkest day in PRIME history.
A dark day for the Pacific Blitzkrieg as well.Â
Looking back, he’d be inclined to call it the night his faith in professional wrestling was finally broken.
His own personal moment of apostasy.
The words of Vince Howard resonated through a deathly silent arena filled with dumbstruck fans.
Words that few, if any, ever believed theyâd hear in their lifetimes.
âLadies and gentlemen, the winner of this matchâŠ
ââŠand NEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWW PRIME UNIVERSAL CHAMPIONâŠ
âREEEEEEEZZZZZZZIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN!!!â
Son of a bitch.
Thereâd be no putting the toothpaste back in this tube.
Against all odds, Erik Black had claimed the Universal Championship.
The dope-addled, pants-shitting spot monkey who couldnât even walk to the ring without tripping over his own legs and making an ass of himself.
To Kerryâs left, there was a low whistle of surprise.
It came from âThe Krakenâ Henry Keyes, fellow Vae Victis compatriot and notorious aficionado of pancakes.Â
âWell, Iâll be⊠the wooden spoon actually did it.âÂ
There was the slightest hint of esteem in the airship pirateâs words.Â
The two of them were down in New Orleans, lounging in the original Vae Victis suite.
Arguably the only clean, functioning room in the steadily dilapidating shithole known as the DEFIANCE WrestlePlex.
It was their bi-weekly routine, to cap off a stretch of hard work in the ring thumping skulls and putting the peasants in their place by sitting back and enjoying Lindsayâs show.
But there was nothing for Kerry to enjoy about tonightâs turn of events.
In his hand, the whiskey glass creaked in his ever tightening grip.Â
He thought it might shatter.Â
And a part of him, honestly, wanted it to happen.
But that would have been needless.Â
Even a dipshit like Black wasnât worth the risk of lacerating his hand and potentially losing time.
Enough had already been lost.
He couldnât remember when he finished his drink.Â
How long had it been sitting empty?
He held it out, giving the remaining cubes a shake.
Clink-clink.
In a heartbeat, a trained ape in a white waiterâs jacket was standing at his side.
âAnother Suntory, Mr. Kuroyama?â
Kerry grunted affirmatively, handing over the glass.
âToki.â
Yes, itâs the cheap shit.Â
Literally any ordinary, butt-scratching Average Joe could buy it off the shelf at his local Target.Â
But there was no point in letting the good stuff go to waste when he was in no mood to properly savor it.
The attendant bowed and hastily departed with the glass, moving like a man who lived as though every second mattered in relation to his gratuity payment.
Fortunately for him, Kerry was a good tipper.Â
Not so much out of generosity, but because he pitied those who were too dumb and incompetent to support their livelihoods any way other than degrading themselves into serving others.
He wasnât a regular smoker, but he often kept a case of Treasurer Luxury Blacks on his person.Â
âIn case of emergencies,â heâd say
This was evidently one of those occasions, as he pulled one out and plucked it into his mouth.
Henry noticed.Â
âWasnât the Suntory supposed to be for ârelaxing timesâ, or however goes the adage?â quipped the airship pirate.
Words arenât going to be wasted explaining that reference.
âThe fuck does it look like I’m trying to do here?â Kerry clapped back, striking a match and lighting the tip as he did.
The waiter returned with a Toki on the rocks and placed it on the table next to the Pacific Blitzkriegâs plush, pink seat before, wisely, disappearing without another word.
Kerry raised the tumbler to his lips and tipped it back. Smooth gold ran past his tongue and into his gullet.
Flavorless, as expected.
But by this point, he wasnât concerned with taste.Â
All that mattered was quieting the thunder in his chest.
âIâm no stranger to persiflage,â Keyes replied. âBut the way youâre going about, one would think you just lost.â
NOW
âI was standing on the tarmac at Nashville International, waiting to board a jet to London.â
That was then.
Late July, earlier this year.
But right now, the place where Kerry Kuroyama is standing is in a wrestling ring.
Heâs wearing business attire.
Tights. Boots. Pads.
His business attire.
âI had just wrestled my last match in DEFLATULENCE the night before.â
An unfortunate loss to David Fox, for what it matters.
Yâall remember David, right?
One half of the Dangerous Mix?Â
Back when tag teams were a thing?
âŠno?
âŠanyone?
Well, shit.
Nevermind.
âSonny Silver was there at the airport to see me off.â
Well, that was nice of him.
Savvy viewers will remember last seeing the Chairman of PRIME being put through a piano by Nova at last yearâs Colossus.
Banger of a match, I hear.
âRight before I climb the stairs to board, he puts his hand on my shoulder, looks me in the eye, and tells me the following wordsâŠâ
Kuroyamaâs eyes are boring down the camera.
ââKerry, you need to stop holding back.ââ
THEN
Kuroyama paused mid-sip on the Toki and threw a pointed look at his Vae Victis associate.Â
His remark was unsettling.
If there was anything Kerry hated more than being angry, it was being seen angry.Â
It always left him feeling mildly humiliated.
Exposed, even.
Feeling incapable of controlling his emotions.
And while it was true that to be that way was only human, exuding the image of being in control was paramount to the life and career of the Pacific Blitzkrieg.
One never really appreciates how essential it is to have agency, until some other dickhead comes and takes it away.
Nevertheless, he realized that Henry had a point.Â
Since he wasnât actually a PRIME wrestler, Black being champion should have had zero effect on his life.Â
So why did it matter so much?
The twenty-second broadcast of ReVival was going off the air.Â
The lasting image was that of Ivan Stanislav, standing triumphant in the ring over the fallen, newly crowned champion.
A sign of things to come.
A sign that while others were out there getting what needed to be got, he was still sitting there.Â
Stuck in New Orleans.
Running out of time.
But at least there was some respite, knowing that shit-reeking punk would never get to bask in his moment of sacrilege.
The screen went black.
Kerry felt like he could breathe again.
âMaybe I just think it sets the wrong precedent,â he said at last.
Truthfully, even if he wasnât on the payroll, he couldnât help but admire the company from afar.
To a committed wrestling purist like him, PRIME was a vestal territory.
A place that had established itself as being the cream of the wrestling crop.
But tonightâs turn of events had left it tainted, in his eyes.
Stained.
Still, the brow over Henryâs unpatched eye raised into an arch.Â
The universal sign for âplease, elaborate on that.â
So Kerry took another sip of his Toki, another drag off his Luxury Black, and went on.
âI mean, Lindsay takes this old brand, busts her ass revitalizing it into a top-tier wrestling company, and within a year, itâs attracting the best wrestlers to ever be produced by this sport to come out and compete.
âSo youâd think something like the Universal Championship would be considered the gold standard in this profession. The be-all, end-all for every wrestler in the world.
âThen this dipshit wins it. Practically by accident. Off a shot that he did nothing to earn. In a match that clearly has âflukeâ written all over it.âÂ
Clink-clink.
The waiter reappeared, wordlessly taking Kerryâs emptied glass and putting a fresh one on the table.
Next to him, Keyes sighed.
âJust try to remember who it is weâre talking about here.â
The airship pirate snapped his fingers, calling for his own refill.
A squat person dressed in a seventeenth-century plague doctor outfit approached with an already prepared pontarlier of Le Tourment Vert and swapped glasses.
Keyes sniffed the absinthe before taking a sip and nodding to the blackened screen.
âErik got lucky tonight⊠but the foozler was never one to handle the enormity of his own success. I dare say here in a monthâs time, weâll watch his vessel crash and burn before it ever leaves the airstrip.â
Iâll be fucked if history didnât prove that statement to be true.
Still, to Kerry, it was a meager consolation.
Because what did years of hard work and sacrifice really mean if any random asshole could walk into the ring and win the sportâs greatest prize?
âDoesnât change the fact that a circus clown just went and did what thousands of other wrestlers have spent entire careers busting their asses trying to get for themselves. Or hell, just to get within sniffing distance.â
Henry, perhaps hearing more than just the words that were being spoken, couldnât help but pick up on Kuroyamaâs implication.
âSomeone like you, perhaps?â
Kerry responded with zero hesitation.
âDamn right, someone like me!âÂ
Shit.
So much for staying in control.
NOW
âHonestly⊠I didnât know what to say.â
Kerry is looking at his feet, deep in contemplation.
âEspecially considering it came from Sonny Silver.
âA man I always viewed as a legend, back when I was just a young, aspiring wrestler in Seattle.
âA legend I had the honor to train under for the better part of the last year.
âAnd here he is, telling me Iâm holding back, while Iâm on my way out.â
Kuroyama scoffs.
âWhen have I ever held back?
âIn the ring, Iâm a beast.Â
âIn the gym, Iâm on the balls of my feet.
âEvery facet of my being is dedicated to continuous improvement.
âAll to be not just the best of what I can be, but the best in the world.
âHow could I be holding back when literally everything Iâve done has been in an effort to push myself forward?â
Kerry stares at his hands, rubbing his palms together.
âHad plenty of time to think about it while I was across the pond.
âAlso had plenty of time to think up a few choice words for Sonny the next time I saw him.
âBut then it hit meâŠÂ
âAnd I realized what he was trying to say all along.
âBeing relentless in the ring isnât everything.
âTo succeed in this sport, you have to be relentless of the mind.â
His fiery gaze finds the camera again.
âSo listen closely, PRIMEâŠ
âCause I wonât be holding anything back.â
THEN
Fuck it.Â
If he was going to be pissed, then the world was going to see it.
Because he was through with denying the feeling.
The knowing.
The FACT that it should have been him in the ring in Orlando, holding that belt over his head.
PRIME should have had a Universal Champion that fit their standard.
The standard.
And it should have been Kerry Kuroyama.
Instead, it got Rezin.
‘The Anti-Champion.’
Whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.
A reign as pointless and short-lived as it would inevitably become forgettable.
âYou know, I had half a mind to join PRIME last yearâŠâ
Kerryâs admission wasnât exactly a major revelation.Â
It was either plainly known or at least widely suspected among the other members of Vae Victis that he had been showing dwindling interest in their dealings with the red and black.
All the while fostering ambitions to switch to blue and white.
It was also known that he resented having to choose between one or the other.
Lest he divide his precious time.
âBut I held off,â he continued. âI told myself, âThereâs more to do here before I move onâ.â
He snorted.
âAnd look where that got meâŠâ
The words came rattling out in a contemptuous growl.Â
This time last year, he could at least say he was in a good place.
Towing the line with the lower-tier belt, sure, but he knew he was building toward something bigger.
Something that would have put him in the next echelon.
A bid that, tragically, ended with him walking away empty-handed.
Because of some fucker with the last name Fuse.
Henry couldnât help but see it another way.
âIt got you here, didnât it?â
The airship pirate held out his arms, gesturing to the room at large.
Or rather, all of its opulence and splendor.
It was a valid point. After all, how can anyone complain while sitting in the lap of luxury?
With all the high-end Japanese whiskey a man could ask for, to fill the championship-sized hole in his heart?
âMore importantly, though, it got us here,â added Henry. âMaybe not what you had expected for yourself, but if your reason for staying was that you felt there was more to do, then Iâd say you succeeded, chum!â
Kerry felt he knew exactly what the airship pirate was getting at.
If he had jumped ship last year, he wouldnât have been the one to knock on their door after the unfortunate business with Dan Ryan came up.
Nor would he have filled that massive void that the Ego Buster left behind.
Which begged the question: could anyone else have done it?
One might go as far as to say that had Kuroyama taken his talents to PRIME a year ago, Vae Victis would have likely never risen to greatness.
And now, DEFIANCE had the champions it needed.
Champions that could be respected.
Feared.
But where did that leave him?
Being seen as the goddamn lackey?Â
The chump who takes one for the team?
Kinda like he did just a week ago inside the steel cage up in New York?
Again, to some fucker with the last name Fuse!?
âIf youâre saying I have no right to be angryâŠâ
Kerry trailed off, once he saw Keyes shaking his head.
âOn the contrary, olâ chuckaboo⊠you should be angry.â
NOW
âHereâs the thing about meâŠâ
Kerryâs intense gaze overpowers the camera.
âI take this sport seriously.â
Emphasis on sport.
âSome might say too seriouslyâŠÂ
âBecause, admittedly, I donât have a lot of patience in dealing with the carnies and criminals and chicken-biters and other attention whores that this profession attracts.â
Emphasis on whores.
âMy father and grandfather also took this sport seriously.
âThey had to, in order to support their families.
âTo give me, their scion, every opportunity I needed to go far in this industry.
âTo go far in life.
âAnd yet, I know that the two of them would be spinning in their graves if either one of them had to see what this business has devolved into.
âOr the bullshit Iâve been forced to endure in my pursuit to live up to the family name.
âBullshit, that’s forced me to understand the value of my time.
âAnd just how much of it has been needlessly wasted.
âTo wannabe mentor figures that convinced me they were working in my best interests. Like the junkie that left me stranded down in New Orleans eight years ago.â
Hey, letâs not bang on Rocko. Heâs doing well, and in a good place.
âTo psychopaths who intentionally tried to put me out of commission. Either out of jealousy, or just to prove a point. Pathetic pieces of shit, who should have never been given jobs as professional athletes in the first place.â
Yeah, they can all get fucked.
âSo forgive my bluntness, PRIME.
âBut for all the effortâŠ
âFor all the laborâŠ
âFor all the sacrifice, discipline, and persistence that Iâve put into my professional careerâŠ
âSometimes it pains me to feel Iâm consistently being overshadowed by fucking buffoons.
âAnd sometimes, I canât help but feel like Iâm part of a dying breed.
âThe kind of competitor that still feels that wrestling should be treated as a sport.â
THEN
âMy advice, Kerry? Harness that anger. Let it motivate you to take what’s yours without remorse.Â
âBecause Lindsay and I didnât bring you into this unit to be our lieutenant; we brought you in because youâre a dratted daimyo.
âAnd if it took Erik winning that title to get you to see it, then, my friend, Iâd take it as a blessing in disguise. Because here, youâre only ever going to be seen the same as how you allow yourself to be treated.â
Henry looked to Kerry with his one good eye.
âSo stop wasting your time, and get to doing what you know you were meant to do.â
Keyes was right.Â
Eight years with the company, and what did he really have to show for it?
Where was the payoff?
Kuroyama got lost in his drink, swirling the triad of icecubes in a steady, mystifying loop.
Time just kept ticking away.
How much was he really willing to let go to waste?
âMy contract is up in July.â
Henry sighed.
Then nodded.
Then smiled.
Then winked.
Or maybe blinked.
Honestly, it was hard to tell with the eyepatch.
His glass came up.
âTo our expansion, then?â
The Emerald Apex raised his own.
âTo our expansion.â
Clink.
NOW
âScott Hunter.â
Also known as the most recent baggage handler to come into the employ of Vae Victis.
But you didnât hear that from Kerry.
He is a man of class and character, after all.
âIâll give you thisâŠ
âYou have a way of thinking and acting on impulseÂ
âAs a competitor, I admire that.Â
âItâs a trait any success-driven athlete would be envious of.
âAs a strategist, I hate it.Â
âItâs playing chess with an opponent that thinks heâs playing air hockey.
âBe as it may, itâs qualities like that which have brought you to our attention.
âThe world looks at you, and sees an idiot.
âVae Victis looks at you, and sees potential.â
Somehow, he manages to say that with a straight face.
âIn the interest of holding nothing back, thereâs much more I wish I could express to youâŠ
âUnfortunately, Scott, I feel it would be a waste of breath, given the obvious communication barrier between the two of us.
âFortunately, when it comes to the language of violence, nothing ever gets lost in translation.
âSo letâs use this chance match-up of ours as an opportunity to finally bridge the gap.
âA few minutes in the ring with me is all youâll need to understand just where I stand, as well as what Iâm capable of doing to you if you were bold and/or stupid enough to step out of line or drag down the good name of Vae Victis in any way.â
Kuroyamaâs teeth grind.
His eyes burn.
His voice thunders.
âI want you to understand something, ScottâŠÂ
âRepresenting us means youâre expected to live up to a standard.
âIf you canât live up to that standard, then youâre going to quickly learn that we are not the company you should be keeping.
âThis is more to me than just a first round match.
âItâs a first step.
âAn opportunity to make a first impression into a new wrestling frontier.Â
âIâm through with wasting time.
âI came to PRIME to get results.
âUntil now, people here have only seen me as a man talking from a chair.
âBut when that bell rings, Iâll finally have the opportunity to show them what I want them to see.
âThe power. The skill. The athleticism. The drive. The killer instinct.Â
âThe sheer brutalityâŠÂ
âEverything that goes into being an upper level professional wrestler.
âEverything that represents who I am.
âBecause Iâm not about taglines.
âIâm not about t-shirts.
âIâm not about stupid dances, and fancy flips, and goddamn cornball vaudeville routines.â
Take that outlaw mudshow bullshit back to the indies, you fucking scrubs!
âIâm here for graps, taps, and straps, and Iâll cripple any and every motherfucker that gets in my way.â
Thunder.
Overcast.
Black.
THE VIVID HARMONY WHERE OLD MEETS NEW
As taken from the Suntory website:
âToki means âtimeâ in Japanese. It’s a concept rich in meaning the world over, but particularly in Japan where respect for tradition and reinvention sparks a powerful creative energy. Inspired by that interplay, Suntory Whisky Toki brings together old and new â the House of Suntory’s proud heritage and its innovative spirit â to create blended Japanese whisky that is both groundbreaking and timeless.â