The Lyon Versus The Wolf

Tokyo, Japan
2014

It had been six months now since Lachlan O’Connell had uprooted his entire life in Ireland and moved to Japan to help further his wrestling career. Granted, he was still considered a rookie and relegated to opening the show most of the time, but he didn’t mind it. The guys he was staying with at the dojo quickly became good friends, and Eddy had been invaluable in helping him get acclimated to the Japanese culture. He could even say a few phrases to help him get around the city, and was learning more and more every day.

More importantly, his wrestling skills were improving by leaps and bounds. While he’d had a very basic understanding of wrestling moves and techniques while he’d been wrestling at home, here in Japan he found that his scrappy DIY style didn’t quite cut it. So he threw himself headlong into his training, absorbing everything he could from his teachers and practicing it until his body gave out. Most days, he was the first in the training room and the last to leave, and this day was no exception.

While most of the other students had left for the dorms to get ready for a night out on the town, Lachlan had stayed behind. They had learned a new submission technique and he wanted to make sure that he could apply it quickly and cleanly to use in his next match. He was in the middle of wrapping the training dummy’s legs around his own when he felt like he was being watched. He looked up to see Eddy leaning up against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest and a smirk across his face.

“Every day this week, you’ve been staying hours late,” he remarked, his Welsh accent carrying across the room. “More than you have in the past few months, as a matter of fact. I’m dangerously close to calling you obsessed.”

Lachlan gave a sheepish little grin, rubbing at the back of his neck while his cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. “Well, when I got here and I realized just how far behind everyone else I was, I knew I was gonna need to put in some extra work to catch up. You all have got the advantage over me, and I just don’t wanna look like a bigger fool than I feel next to you lot.”

Eddy’s smirk softened into something a bit kinder. “Hey, you’re just a bit unpolished, that’s all. From what you’ve told me about your background, it’s to be expected. But if I can be honest, you’ve actually caught on real well. A lot of the stuff you can do now took me a lot longer to master. You’re a natural at this stuff.”

Lachlan shrugged, his blush growing a bit deeper. “Nah, it’s just cause I’m a stubborn perfectionist.”

Eddy laughed, walking over and clapping Lach on the shoulder. “Maybe that too. But I’m telling you, if you spend all your time here you’re gonna end up hating it. Trust me, I know from experience. I was a lot like you when I first got here. First in, last out. Always working on new moves and techniques. But eventually, I got to a point where it consumed me. It was all I wanted to do. I started alienating the others, and even began resenting them because I thought they just weren’t as dedicated as I was. Luckily, they helped snap me out of that mindset and realize that you gotta have balance in this industry or you’re gonna burn out a lot faster than you want to.”

Lachlan was quiet for a moment, mulling over Eddy’s words. On the one hand, he wanted to do everything he could to get better so that he could get better matches on the cards and therefore earn more money to send home to his family. But Eddy did have a point. If he kept pushing himself the way he was, there was the distinct possibility that his career would be over before it really even began. He let go of the training dummy’s legs and nodded, wiping away the sweat collected on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Maybe you’re right. I should take it a bit easier on the training.”

“I’m not saying that some extra training wouldn’t hurt if you really wanna get your skills up. But you gotta remember that you’re still a young lad. Don’t forget to enjoy these years as well.” Eddy gave him an encouraging smile as the two men put away the equipment.

Lachlan gave him a side-eyed glance. “You’re talking like you’re some wise old mountain sage. You’re only two years older than I am!”

They shared a laugh as they walked out of the dojo and locked it up for the night, heading across the street to their dorm. The sky was already beginning to darken with the setting of the sun. “Hey, I’ve learned a lot in the year I’ve been here. I’m just trying to impart some wisdom on you, young padawan.” They headed inside the dorm to find it was already empty of the others, who had left to hit the bars. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. There’s this great little place just down the street, you wanna go get some food?”

Lachlan grinned. “Sure, gimme two minutes to get changed.”

—-----

The scene opened up in what appeared to be the dressing room of a high-end men’s clothing store. The dark wood along the walls, coupled with the sleek lines of the change cubicles and the ornate three-way mirror perched on a raised dais gave the impression that this was a store for men who could easily spend thousands of dollars in a single transaction.

One of the doors to the change cubicles opened, and out stepped PWE fan favourite Lachlan Kane. He smirked towards the camera as he smoothed out the lapels of the navy blue suit jacket he wore, paired with matching pants, a crisp white dress shirt and a black silk tie. He tugged slightly on each of the cuffs of the jacket before rolling his shoulders and nodding approvingly as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. “You know, it’s amazing how a good, well-tailored suit can really change how you look and feel about yourself. I figured with the way I’ve been expanding my portfolio in the wrestling world lately, and getting my name out there and more well-known, it was about time I invested in myself. And I have to say, I’m very glad I did. Seeing myself in this, I feel powerful. Confident. Like I could walk into the boardroom of a Fortune 500 company and take it right over.”

A little smirk graced his lips as he turned his attention back to the camera. “But as much as you can dress up the outside, you can’t change the heart and soul of who I am. I’m still the same Scrapper you all know and love. That’s never going to change, no matter how many fancy suits I own. Nothing will feel better to me than the sweat and ache of a good, hard-fought match. Much like the one I’m looking forward to this Monday night, when I have my first singles match of the new season against someone who I have a passing knowledge of, Victoria Lyons. After all, I was the one to eliminate her on the comeback episode of Victory.” A little self-satisfied smirk appeared on his face. “So, I can only imagine that Miss Lyons will be very eagerly looking to avenge that slight against her. And I welcome the challenge.”

“I know that you pride yourself on being the head Lyoness -” he paused for a slight chuckle under his breath “- and in all honesty I can see why. You’re confident, capable, and a truly strong leader. But that’s really only been outside of the ring. It hasn’t exactly translated in your in-ring performances, has it? Two matches here and both times you’ve failed to catch a win. Now, in all fairness both of those matches were multi-person, and that’s not always an accurate depiction of skill or talent. More often than not, the winners of those kinds of matches have taken advantage of their unique circumstances and got a lucky break. And I’m not immune to it either. I’ve been part of a few multi-person matches recently and more often than not I’ve come away unsuccessful.” He gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “It is what it is, there’s no use in dwelling on the past. I always take them as learning experiences, and use them to help better prepare myself for next time. As I do with all of my matches - win, lose or draw.”

He glanced down at himself, picking a small piece of lint off the jacket and adjusting the cuffs again before running a hand along the silk tie. “This week though, it’s just the two of us in that ring. No distractions, no excuses. I only hope that you can keep your focus on the task at hand. Seems like you’ve got your hands full trying to keep your dear cousin Eddie under your thumb. Can’t say I empathize with you. I’ve shaken the demons that plagued me during the last season, and the only thing I’m focused on is regaining my Victory title.” The boyish grin fell from his face as his look morphed into something determined, his blue eyes shining with intensity. “But I hope you don’t think that I’m looking past you or underestimating you by any means. On the contrary, I’m looking forward to our encounter. Every time I step into that ring, I want to know that each opponent was more of a challenge than the last. I want to know that I’ve stepped up to the best this industry has to offer…and I want them to watch as I surpass them. I want them to look up from their backs on the canvas, eyes glazed over and body absolutely aching, eyes blurry and burning through the sweat as they watch my hand raised high in the air to the adoring cheers of the crowd. Consider that a little preview to how your Monday night is going to end up, Victoria.”

He turned his back to the camera, staring at his full-body reflection in the mirror before his gaze switched to once again stare down the camera, though it was reflected in the mirror’s surface. “This week, it’s the Lyon versus the Wolf. I can guarantee that it’s certainly going to be a fierce match…but just who is going to emerge as the true alpha?” A knowing, confident smirk graced his lips, his index finger extending to tap at his chest. “Baby, you’re looking at him.”

He looked back to his own reflection just as an employee approached him, tape measure in hand, as the camera slowly began backing out of the dressing room before fading out to black.