Zen Arcade | Track 02
- beyond the threshold
A Month Ago.Hideyoshi patted him on the chest and gave his best shit eating grin. "Sounds like a job for you."
"Fuck." Tsuruga sighed and headed for the back. There were times when he hated this fucking job. Those times were more and more often lately... this was a bad time of the year to work at a club - the business was good, sure, but the money came from a constant stream of fucking foreigners, and if the alcohol knocked out inhibitions, being half a world away from the people who'd be ashamed of you only made it worse. He pushed through the crowd (mostly tacky "japanese" decorations and grimy walls and glowstick waving weirdos), past a poorly hit back hallway and into the bathroom. A little smoke was seeping under the crack in the door. Again, fuck. Tsuruga shook his head and slapped the door open.
Well, not as bad as he thought. Kids huddled in the bathroom, smoking and talking shit. Underaged as shit, but one of them was already whining about how Hideyoshi had let them in.
"Move." He said it loud enough for them to get out of the bathroom, but while they did, he heard a clatter coming from one of the stalls. Made perfect sense. Things were almost going decent these last few seconds. He rolled his eyes, crossed the room and tiptoed over the stalls.
"I'm taking a shit!" The man in the stall waved one hand around and stuck the other one in his pocket.
"The fuck you are." Amazing, the kind of shits you could take with your pants still on. Tsuruga kicked the door at first, and when that didn't work he pulled backwards - something in the back of his head told him it didn't make sense, but these stalls were already cheap as shit and almost flew off when you opened them and broke on accident half the time anyway. Sure enough, the stall door snapped backwards and clattered to the floor. He roughly grabbed him by the neck and slung him across the narrow room and into a cracked glass on the other side. There was probably easier ways to go about it, but he'd spent the last couple hours on his feet listening to drunk American bitches slurring excuses at him, so he wasn't in the mood.
"Look, I'm trying to get rid of these, my girlfriend was -"
"Empty out your pockets."His hand shakes a bit and he pulls out a needle and a bag and a couple keys of ket - honestly the ketamine was something they could let go of around here, but the heavier stuff looked bad if the cops found someone with it around. He slapped him on the back of the neck and look a couple of steps - it was convenient that the back door was so close. Before Tsuruga could make it to the door, he heard a low ring, and a taser dug into his leg before he could react much. He cursed loud in his head as the shock flew up his spine and he slowly toppled to the ground, eyes in a foggy trance and balled up, like he'd been spitroasted. Should have checked the room first. Stupid. Stupid. Had to be a bouncer thing : whatever you'd do in a bar fight, somebody would take to the next level to get one up on you.
He felt his strength fade out -
- taking so long in here? -and in a couple of times
- think he gives a fuck about your girlfriend being -before he felt himself return to normal, never quite getting knocked out, but feeling like he'd taken a kick to the chin - and when he finally felt like something resembling normal again, one of them was standing by the door nervously and the user was gone. Tsuruga groaned and pulled the prongs out of his thigh.
"Hey fucker." An Australian or something with dirty blonde hair (not the color, the garbage) gestured at him with a bottle. "I'll spray you right in the fucking eyes."
And would that be better or worse than somebody in a mask spitting green mist in your eyes? Either way, an excuse was exactly what he needed tonight. He gave him a smile that didn't quite go all the way up and pulled himself up. He'd need all the luck he could get with that fucking can...
***
Time got weird in fights, so he wasn't sure if it had been seconds or minutes or what since the brawl had started, but Hideyoshi and a part timer and Kudo were in the bathroom a while later - Kudo, of course, looked like he would have beaten him to death.
"There's shit in my eyes," Tsuruga grunted.
"I don't think you understand what a bouncer does."
"There's shit," he said as calmly to his boss as he could manage,
"in my eyes."Focus on what's important here.
"You almost killed this man, and more importantly, you destroyed the bathroom! And for what? The costs for these repairs are going to be more than you make in six months!" Tsuruga squinted and surveyed the room - a shattered toilet, two snapped doors, a couple of very large dents in the walls, the sink cracked to worthlessness, some dug up tiles. He was probably right. And that was depressing as hell. "Nobody hired you to punch someone out every week like a cage fighter. The reason you have a job is to keep... to keep things like
this from happening!"
He squinted and tried to remember what he'd been thinking before.
"Well, uh, he had drugs -""You know what? Go home. Just go home!" Kudo ran his hand through his thinning hair and stormed off. Really, that was fine. He didn't want to stick around and clean up anyway. Tsuruga took a step towards the door, then turned around and talked to Kudo's back.
"The reason so much stuff broke is because you bought cheap shit!"He glanced at Hideyoshi for confirmation, but the other bouncer just shrugged his shoulder and left. Tsuruga sighed and went to the car. The problem with getting sent home without your money was that you were never sure if you'd get a call back.
***
Tsuruga felt pretty close to puking by the time he got to the apartment. He stumbled out of the car and trudged through the parking lot, crossing over glittering slices of smashed beer bottles and crumpled cans. In the dim light above he could see dirt whirling around in time with the wind. Fuck. This was all Murasame's fault. He had to move out of his old place, couldn't find a decent job anywhere - he wouldn't have imagined frisking strung out party boys for drugs or getting pepper sprayed in the face a few weeks ago. And he'd probably have to look for something else next week - something he wouldn't have to spent six months training for. This month was a little reminder that even though he was
very good at what he did... he didn't really do much else.
He fumbled with the keys and stuck them in the lock - and the door swung open without anything happening to the lock. He took a deep breath and swung it open, expecting to find his place in ruins - but if anything, the place looked a little nicer than before. A familiar looking woman stepped forward and pressed into his chest.
"Are you... are you hugging me?"Teresa Quaranta patted him a couple times and bit her lip contemplatively. "Yes?"
"Can you... stop?"
"... yes." She pushed away from him and sprawled out onto his couch, which also looked different than he left it. He hadn't seen her in about two years - aside from all over TV the last couple of weeks - but he remembered her as pretty straight up, and nowhere near as boring as most of the workers in ASPEN. And she looked... pretty nice. He was a little annoyed at the intrusion, but having her around at least beat watching late night game shows and Miami Vice reruns until he fell asleep.
"How did you even get in here?"
"Putting your house key under a rug isn't really a breathtaking security measure, Kazuma."
"And then you cleaned up?" He put his hands on his hips and surveyed the room.
"I don't like people messing with my stuff."Teresa looked around the apartment with a look of feigned shock. "Hells no, I hired a couple of girls, and it even took them a couple of hours. Pizza boxes, paper plates, batteries, empty cans. Dude, I was sleeping in Whopper wrappers a couple weeks ago and even
I thought the place was disgusting."
"Uh... did you... did you...""The socks have been disposed of, and I don't ever wanna talk about 'em again." She pulled out a wad of bills and waved it at him. "Took the bill out of your present, by the way."
Tsuruga raised an eyebrow and took a seat - the money was easily the most interesting thing he'd seen all night.
"You were broke the last time I checked.""Things change." She dumped the entire wad into his lap, and he struggled not to grin. American dollars weren't worth quite as much as they used to, but he could tell his job to shove it while he looked for something else - at least for a couple of months. "Heard about Daisuke-san. Class guy. Still rehabbing his back."
"Not you too. You're looking for sympathy for him, you came to the wrong place." He spat onto the clean carpet.
"I'm not lecturing you."
"You sound like it.""What about Murasame?"
"Barely put a hand on him. Just grabbed him to show I was serious, but you know him. Big righteous playacting pussy.""They said you sounded like you wanted to kill him."
"I sound like I wanna kill everybody. Because I usually do.""I wouldn't do this for most people in your situation." Teresa looked up and idly ruffled her hair. "But here's what you need to do. Take
that money, set yourself up in America, and get a job there. True Glory Wrestling's running out of San Diego - solid talent, steady money."
"Aren't you working in the jungle of something?""Yeah. I gotta catch a flight back to Montevideo tomorrow afternoon in fact, so pardon me for being jetlagged as fuck. Look, I'd get you signed to Absolute Pro, but I know you don't wanna do that bodyguard thing or the tag team thing or the beat a never ending string of nobodies thing. You're gonna be the man somewhere, or close to it, and in all honestly? I'd rather not have you as competition. Plus... how much longer are you gonna be at your peak? Fear inspiring and an unstoppable monster and all that promoter stuff? You just turned thirty and everybody you fight tries to murder you. Five years, maybe? Murasame's robbing you of your best work right now. You need to get yourself set. So you don't have to live in a cubbyhole like this. America. That's the place to go."
"Hm.""And listen." She took a deep breath and looked around. "Maybe you should think about... wearing a different color hat. Turning over a new leaf. Not letting things get to you. You come to the States, and there's way way way more assholes. A fresh perspective might help you stand out."
"San Diego." He said it noncommittally, ignoring the lecture about hats. Really, he was thinking more about the years thing. That had been on his mind a lot lately.
"How far is it from Hollywood?""Three hours to Hollywood, half an hour to Tijuana. You'll like it."
"OK." Some people might have thought it was weird to make a move that big that fast, but now that he had the money to do it, to hell with it. He didn't like anybody on this whole fuckin' island anyway.
"Hollywood then. Maybe I'll show some actresses a good time."Teresa nodded and made her way towards the door, and Tsuruga stared her down as she left, the bottom of his lip curling a little.
"Speaking of good times, when are you gonna suck my dick?"She paused in the doorway for a second and looked at him. He sat back and shrugged. She came halfway across the planet to see him - he might as well try to make something out of it, right? She tilted her head and replied in Japanese. "<Once you become a gentleman.>" She slammed it shut behind her. Tsuruga thumbed through the money again and laughed.
Never, then.***
In San Diego, we see the image of Kirsten "Gabe's Sister" Shelley, wearing a traditional looking black dress, looking directly into the camera with something of a disgusted look. She finally clears her throat and looks right, and the camera pulls out to show us Shogun Tsuruga who's standing next to her, arms folded with a mean snarl on his face, and the story told by his eyes aren't very different. He wears a pair of black trunks and heavy black shin pads. There's also a black shirt with five yellow crows hovering over a "Versus the Mirror" logo. Tsuruga looks the camera and the interviewer over, and finally, Shelley sighs and starts talking.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are days removed from last week's episode of Animosity, where we saw the much awaited debut of Shogun Tsuruga. After debuting with a vicious assault against Ja Gi Kyung-Moon, one of this company's fastest rising stars and the winner of this company's Wild Card folder for the TGW World Championship, an assault that's left him permanently sidelined from this company. And last week, he made his in ring debut, completely destroying David Cage with a display of raw power we haven't ever seen in this company. But THIS week, you've got a new challenge in the unorthodox offense of Mexico City's own Che Ortega, so going into this match, what are your -"
"What are my thoughts, right?" Tsuruga laughs softly to himself.
"Well first of all, I think reciting all my accomplishments got your panties a little wet. And I think that last week, David Cage found out that he was running into a four hundred pound instrument of destruction who was completely focused on breaking his body, his mind, and his spirit last week, and like any sane human being who wanted to preserve their life, he got terrified. He got frightened. And he was... so completely intimidated from the word go that he didn't bother getting in front of a camera and crying about what he was going to try to do to me, because that would have just made his beating that much worse. And now there's some new piece of shit unlucky enough to have a fight against me. And you know what's running through the mind of Che Ortega this week, as he watches the video of me almost snapping JAGI's back in half from seven feet in the air, as David Cage tried to wear me down with his weak punches - and failed, and tried to get some extra momentum off the ropes to put a dent in me - and failed, tried to survive and failed? The exact same thing. Pissing his panties, and you can believe that no matter WHAT he says to a camera this week, if he even gets the courage to show up at all. That's the natural reaction to a man like me. That's evolution. That's biology at work. The only way that Che Ortega isn't afraid of me squeezing the life out his limp body is if he doesn't know any better. And that would mean he's more stupid than fucking David Cage. Can YOU imagine someone more stupid than fucking David Cage?"Hesitantly, Kirsten Shelley takes the mic and raises it to her lips. She stammers at first, trying to balance surprise and disgust and professionalism and just a little fear, but finally gets the words out.
"David Cage is a fine competitor, and it wouldn't be appropriate for -"
Tsuruga slaps her wrist, keeping the mic in her hands but pulling it down from her lips.
"You don't wanna say anything more interesting than 'what are your thoughts?' Fine, don't, but don't waste my time with that trash either. Even the morons at home know that David Cage is a worthless piece of garbage. Now, later, and forever, and he's the dumbest man on the planet today. Just like everyone knows - except for Wade Mason, apparently - that I'm by far the most dangerous man in professional wrestling, let alone TGW. In a company full of little school kids, I'm the bully, and it's recess twenty four hours a fuckin' day. Ortega! The clock is ticking. Right now. On the enthusiasm of anybody who read about you on some dirtsheet and thought you might be cool, on your wrestling career, on your life. I've met so many people with edgy attitudes who think they're meant to be something in this industry. And when I'm done meeting them, I shatter their jaws with my elbow, I cave in their chest with my forearm, I lift them onto my back, and then I stretch them out until they tap out or pass out from the pain. There's nowhere to run and nowhere to hide when the Reign in Hell is locked in. You can't reach the ropes, you can't kick out, you can't get the leverage to escape. And there's nowhere to run and nowhere to hide this week. You know what else there won't be this week? Excuses. AJ Donovan has vacated the title, and we're supposed to treat Cody Only and AJ Adams like they're real contenders for any title that actually matters? I. Am. Coming. LISTEN CLOSE, Wade Mason. The next time I get a match with some scrub fresh off the turnip truck, I will CHOKE HIM OUT and drop his body, or her body, or whoever's body, right in front of your desk. NO MORE BULLSHIT. You wasted another week of my time. I want blood, and I'm going to get enough to drown TGW, whether management makes money off it or not. See, this fight might be the first step in a "revolution" to you, but I'm an adult, Che Ortega. To me it's a job.
And it's one I'm the best at."