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Raion Kido · (02-22-2022)

“Eventually, all life must come to an end. It’s why we must live well, that we might be remembered once we’re gone…”

It is a beautiful midday in the city of Osaka, the sun shines brightly in the light blue sky, and the occasional chirping of the birds interrupts the otherwise quiet environment, but the Kido family cannot share in the cheery sentiment, as, in the Kunitsugu Cemetery, they stand in front of a grave. A modest grave, marked in stone.

“MISAKO KIDO
1938 - 2018”

A silent tear escapes Mitsumasa, down his dark sunglasses, and standing by his side, a stocky, fairly built young man clad in a black suit, his wild hair now neatly tied up in a ponytail, looks down respectfully, letting out a small sigh. But in front of the grave, an elderly man sobs uncontrollably, inconsolable in his grief.

“At least Nana-san’s suffering is over, Dad. She’ll be in a better place now.”

Mitsumasa turns towards his son and takes a finger to his lips.

“Shh! Hush, Saionji, let's not make it worse for Grandpa Ryôhei. He’s still here without her, after all.”

Saionji lifts a hand in apology, but his father places a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, son, I… I still appreciate it. It’s not easy, it definitely isn’t… but there is no choice but to move on. Let’s remember Grandma for the kind, loving woman she was, and we’ll always have her with us even if she’s not here…”

Yet another tear drops from Mr. Kido’s face, and Saionji nods silently.

“... but death is just another part of life, and we must all go one day. Flowers die, never to bloom again. Flowers, plants, insects, animals… and so it is for people, even the stars above us.”

One more time does Saionji nod, breathing in before speaking once more.

“Life just happens once, that’s why it’s so beautiful and precious, right?”

Mitsumasa smiles, despite his obvious grief.

“Your mom and I have taught you well, son. Here…”

Reaching out into his breast pocket, he produces a flower - a small lily.

“Maybe you should do the honors. I don’t have a mind to do it, and besides, I have to look out for Grandpa.

I’m sure Grandma won’t mind.”

Saionji looks at the flower in his hand, then approaches the grave and lays it down gently. Ryôhei Kido, lost to his grief and clinging to the gravestone, fails to notice as Mitsumasa approaches him and gently embraces him.

“Come on, father. We have to let mother rest…”

Ryôhei Kido doesn’t budge, sobbing silently, but still out of control. From the throng of the bereaved, Ayaka Kido approaches, carrying an instrument in her hand - a lyre.

“Mitsumasa, let’s at least let him grieve before we go. I’ll help him put his mind at ease.”

She begins to play on the lyre, drawing note after note of a soothing, but sad melody.

“Remember, father? Mother used to enjoy this song…”

As Saionji’s mother continues her song, Ryôhei’s sobs begin to diminish - more spaced, less intense. Quiet tears continue to stream down his eyes, but he begins to breathe deeply, and once Ayaka’s song has finally finished, he eventually lets himself be lifted from the ground.

“Yes, that’s it. Let’s go, father, let’s not disturb Grandma…”

The ceremony ends, and the bereaved begin to leave. Soon enough it’s time for the Kido family to go as well, and Saionji is the only one left looking at the grave before he, silently, turns around and leaves.

“We cannot bring the dead back to life. But we can honor their memory…”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On the southern shore of Lake Ontario is Queen’s Royal Park on Niagara-on-the-Sea, a quiet spot in the lakefront - little more than lawn, trees, and the sight of the calm lake in the clear, moonlit night. The breeze is peaceful and the water barely stirs, but the wind carries with it a faint song, which, on a closer look, comes from inside a gazebo of white-painted wood with a gray-tiled roof, around which a crowd is gathered.

A beautiful, yet sorrowful song, coming from the strings of a lyre - an ornate six-stringed instrument painted silver with details in gold.

“We know many stories that involve songs of sorrow, but deep down, at the very core, it all comes back to Orpheus and Eurydice. A very grim, very sad story, just like the one of our very own Television Champion.”

Inside the gazebo, sitting at a wooden table, is the player of the instrument - none other than Raion Kido, clad again in his golden armor and white cape. He plays the strings of the lyre somewhat absent-mindedly, before he turns towards the camera and resumes his speech.

“You see, like Charlie Nickles, Orpheus also had a talent for singing his own praise. Like Charlie Nickles, Orpheus also had a loved one that he lost, and the loss of her was so great, so unbearable, that he would go into the very depths of hell to bring her back.

And so Orpheus did. He came before Hades and played his lyre, and so powerful, so sad and heartbreaking was the melody, that the Lord of the Underworld wept, and granted him his wish. But, as pacts with gods usually go, there was a catch - they would have to walk out of hell and not look back, or the beautiful Eurydice would forever dwell inside the realm of the dead.

So they began the walk, but as Orpheus saw the light of the world of the living, he stopped hearing Eurydice’s steps behind him, and panicked, so he did what he should have not: he turned back to see. Thus, the beautiful Eurydice, the love of Orpheus’ life, was petrified inside the realm of the dead, and lost to him forever. Just like, at Saturday Night Savage, Charlie Nickles will lose his own.

And after February 26th, all that shall remain will be the sound of Charlie Nickles’s lament. Just as Orpheus’s lament was all that was left after he lost it all.”

The last notes of the song having been played, Raion sets the lyre upon the table, and finally stands up. Eyes wide open, and eyebrows arched, the slight shadow of a smirk creeps upon his face as he begins to speak again.

“Now Nickles, I’m sure you wonder why I speak about singing, so let me explain it to your feeble, rotten brain. A sad, sad song is all I’ve heard from you - a long, drawn-out session of patting your own back, gloating about coming at someone who was in no position to fight back, and bashing them in the head with a barbed-wire baseball bat.

Wow, Nickles, you made your point. You jumped an actual threat backstage! Not only have you proven you’re a coward, you’ve also made your gloat about 14-0 lose whatever value it might have had, which makes you not reckless, as you want to portray yourself, but a literal idiot.”

I mean, you’re supposed to be a record-setting Champion! The longest reigning Television Champion of the XWF’s modern era! You pat your own back, look behind and want the world to take note of your accomplishments, and the next very moment you go after the one man that can take you down! What does that make your reign look? What does that say about the twice-Television Champion with a record-setting title run?

Don’t worry, I’ll tell you. It says that when there’s some actual danger to your title, you don’t have the confidence it takes to wait for them to come, knowing that you can show them what it takes to earn the place you have. It says that everyone else you’ve beaten for the belt you carry were afterthoughts that you didn’t take seriously. It says that you’re merely a title-holder, Nickles. Not a Champion. Not even a man.

You’ve said I wasn’t man enough, Charlie Nickles, but in the end, you’re but a worm. And a worm will never defeat a Lion.”

The smirk that had hinted to appear on the face of Raion Kido vanishes as he bares his teeth and clenches his right fist. Charlie Nickles had spoken about hard lessons, and the Lion was there to deliver one of his own.

Time for the cosmos to burn.

“Oh, and speaking of beatings. Starting right now, I’m going to prove to you that valor is not the only thing I can beat you in. You want to bring numbers into this thing, and I’ll admit I haven’t been in the XWF for long, but so far, I have 0 losses. I really didn’t want this to turn into a history lesson, but I can bring some facts of my own, so; since you want to play that game so badly, let’s go!

Fact the first: You’re certainly not undefeated. Maybe those fungi from that match with Vita Valenteen got to your head, which would explain most of what you are, but that’s one reason why that 0 you brought up makes no sense. But let’s move on.

Fact the second: This is also your second TV Title reign, which means you have also lost this title before, and Marf Swaysons was your victor. Another thing that fails to explain that pesky little number you want to impress me with.

So tell me, Nickles, how do you account for that 0? Is your head so deep down your imaginary love’s nether regions that you’ve forgotten your own history, or are you simply a liar? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. For the sake of argument, let’s assume you’re telling the truth. Which brings me to my next point.

Fact the third: Let’s suppose beating Jenny Myst, who lost to Centurion before he lost to me, is supposed to have made your reign what it was. Let’s also suppose Cage Coleman, the man you beat to become number one contender this time, and later failed to win a title at Fire and Ice -the show where I debuted with my first victory-, was also a noteworthy note in that 14 number you want to heave above my head. Am I supposed to be impressed? Am I supposed to cower in fear? Am I supposed to be scared of things you’ve done a year ago?”

Nickles might have had his title history and past accomplishments to boast. But so had Raion’s other opponents, and more so than the Nickleman himself. But this was the now, and Raion was there to show that, whether rookie, star, champion or legend, he could compete with all on equal ground - and in the end, he would come out victorious.

Three of those categories were already checked. It was now time for the fourth.

“Since last month that I arrived, I have done nothing but win, and even better, I needed no tricks, nor backstage antics, to do it. I have only my words and my skills and they were proven to be up to par with the cream of the crop. You know what I haven’t done so far, though? Lose a title match, like you have done with Thaddeus Duke and Corey Smith, or like that very title you carry. And the people I’ve defeated had, let’s see… Thaddeus Duke? 50 wins. Centurion? Close to 200. What is a mere 14 going to do to me now, Nickles?

And before you want to get into that, I know, I keep bringing my two past opponents up, but at least I’ve had those matches in the last two weeks. You keep looking back and going on about Betsy Granger, so allow me to remind you that, barring the Denzel Porter Invitational, she hasn’t been seen in the XWF since last year.

So again, Nickles. What exactly should I have to fear? You’ve taken a baseball bat to my head and I survived to tell the tale, and to exact my retribution upon you. You’ve tried to impress me with your history and I found out you were lying. So tell me, what other tricks do you have up your sleeve? Calling me childish because I like Saint Seiya? Xavier Lux also tried that and look how that worked out for him, and for an added touch of irony, now I get that same tired line from a man who has outright stated in his last message that he literally wants to have sex with the Television Championship!”

An obvious revulsion in his face, Raion looks away for a fraction of a second, in a clear wince. Shock value might have worked for the Nickleman, but in the end, once the initial shock is gone, nothing remains as to the value part. But it would be more than a shock that the Lion would give the Television Champion on Saturday Night Savage. It wasn’t just defeat. It wasn’t just vengeance for the attack he suffered at his hands.

For the damage Charlie Nickles meant to inflict upon the title, this was simply justice. And the Lion was the justicar.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot stress this enough. Charlie Nickles, the necromancer, the man that wants to turn a gold belt to flesh so he can make love to it, wants to call me delusional because I like an ‘80s show. I would call this utterly pathetic were it not one of the biggest displays of idiocy that the XWF Universe has ever witnessed, but that’s our esteemed Television Champion for you. Someone that also thinks, might I add, that three inches of height above me will make a difference when it comes to a barbed-wire deathmatch, a stipulation that he chose as per his right as Champion!

Seriously, Nickles? Is actual size the next weapon in your bag of tricks? In case you weren’t paying attention, I’m six feet tall. You’re six feet three, as if that even made a difference. I distinctly remember telling Xavier Lux, just because he thought his speed was an advantage over me, that at its very core wrestling is a contest not of strength, or speed, or any physical ability, but rather a contest of wills, of drive, of determination.

Especially when the very match you’ve chosen is not based upon any of those things, since all it involves is drawing blood and seeing, in the end, who is left standing. You’ve already drawn some of mine when you attacked me at Warfare. At Saturday Night Savage, the Lion is coming to sink his fangs onto your blighted, decaying flesh, and to bleed you dry.

And who knows, maybe after this is done, your precious Goldi will appreciate my offering. Once that belt is splattered in your blood it might very well come to life, only for your dying carcass to see it and go to hell with the added pain of not being able to enjoy the fruits of all your efforts. You’ll hear her voice inside your head thank you before you go to hell in eternal lamentation, and you’ll bear the eternal pain of having been beaten by someone who made a childish ‘80s show come to life before your very eyes.

And the Television Title that you’ve so far borne will be finally cleansed, in the most literal sense of the word.”

Raion goes silent for a moment as he thrusts a punch forward. If this truly was the longest-reigning champ of the XWF’s modern era, it spoke about the quality of competition he had faced that he had managed to keep it for this long - at least before he won it for the second time.

Raion would, once more, prove that he was different - the man to end the Nickelman’s reign, and to give the belt the Champion it deserved.

“Are you still with me, Nickles? Let’s talk seriously now. Your speech has once again proven that you’re patently stupid, but we knew that already, so your addled idiocy is the least of my issues. The biggest fault that I see here is that, just like I told Thaddeus Duke, I mentioned last time that you too were complacent. That you feel untouchable because the greatest threat you had for that title since you won it for the second time hasn’t been seen in the XWF since before I made my debut.

Well then, Mr. Goldilocks, the newest, greatest threat has come now. Make your peace with your beloved before you join her in the underworld. Bring your Brotherhood of Bastards in tow if you can’t bear the pain of your inevitable loss on your own. Bring your barbed-wire baseball bat, and make sure it’s the sharpest it can be.

In the end, as decayed, as disgusting, as beyond salvation you are, you’re still the record-setting Television Champion, the longest reigning of the XWF’s modern era, and that’s how you will be remembered when you fall to the Lion. Take solace in that fact, for again, it’s your only saving grace, and the fact I even mention it is a kindness greater than you deserve; so it will at least make for a nice tale, and another of the many deeds that I will have accomplished in the XWF in the span of a month. Not a sad song of sorrow like you’ve sung all this time, but a song of courage, valor, and heroism.

And once Savage is over, the only thing left of Charlie Nickles will be his lament, echoing from the depths of hell.

So listen, Nickles, and listen well, because this is the last thing that your ears will hear before the Lion sends you to your death.”

Clenching his fist, and taking a deep breath, the Lion delivers his mighty roar, before he points the finger at the camera for a final time.

“Listen to the sound of your own extinction.”

Fade to black.

3000 words (wordcounter.net)

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