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A Face I Used to Know
Topic Started: Jun 5 2018, 11:39 PM (47 Views)
James Edwards

The around Tokyo Dome City teems with life. Yomiuri Giants supporters joyfully march toward the egg-shaped home ground of the most hated baseball team in Japan. Amidst the river of human flesh, three men stand as an island. Two, both Japanese natives in matching black track suits, hand out flyers, while the other, an American in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a Pittsburgh Pirates cap stares ahead intently.

"Yeah I ain't sure why they wanted me to come with these two students from the dojo, but here I am, man."

The twangy cadence reveals the speaker as James Edwards. He casually stuffs his hands into his jean pockets and peers over at the stack of papers one of the students is holding.

"C'mere, you gotta check this thing out."

The cameraman obliges and moves to a position where they are situated behind Edwards' left shoulder. Before the viewer is small photos of talent from the upcoming Iron Japan show, a smaller version of Edwards and Mark Storm occupy the lower right corner on the flyer. Small, dark Japanese script separates the two.

"I don't know what the flyer says, my Japanese still isn't very good, but a person doesn't need to know a foreign language to read the person in front of him. Focus in on Storm, for a second."

The lens on the camera focuses in on the reigning Strong Crown Champion. Storm has it, and his FGA 15 Championship slung over opposing shoulders. He paws both pieces of gold, a crazed look in his eyes almost daring someone to come and take them.

"This ain't the first time Storm, and I have locked horns. This is the sixth round by my count; three on US soil in FGA and three here in Japan in different promotions. It wasn't about gold back then. We fought for pride and the knowledge that one of us was the better wrestler, which if you look at the numbers is him. He's pinned me twice and took me to two draws. I've only beaten him once, and it took everything I had to keep him down. I felt no shame in losing to that man, especially since he brought out the best in me, and me in him."

The camera still lingers on the possessive countenance of Mark Storm.

"I don't know the man in that picture. He's got the same name and the same face, but he ain't the same guy. That bastard in the picture sold me out two weeks ago on FGA Flashpoint when I and a bunch other fighters got our asses handed to us for no damn reason. That asshole walked away instead of doing the right thing and fightin' by my side..."

The Burning Heart's rant is interrupted by words in Japanese. The cameraman zooms back to find a short, pudgy college-age male with a bad bowl cut trying to get Edwards' attention. After a few awkward moments, the young man pulls out a smartphone out of his pocket. James motions him over, and the two pose for a picture, the cameraman photobombing in the background. After the purorseu otaku's exit, the cameraman moves back to where they are facing Edwards, but the Kentuckian's gaze does not deviate from the poster.

"I can deal with him cheatin' or runnin' around with a gang of chicken shits, but not hanging me out to dry like that. You don't give a man your respect and do that. You don't say that he brings out the best in you, like a good rival should, and forsake him in his time of need. You especially don't do that when you hold the gold and leather embodiment of Strong Style in your hands."

Edwards' lips snake into a frown as he speaks.

"It ate me up inside for weeks when I lost in the tournament on the last show. I wanted to win so fuckin' bad, and not just to put another championship win on my resume. I wanted it because I believe in Strong Style. I think it represents the very best of our sport. It breeds toughness. It encourages respect between foes. There ain't any fancy holds or flips, just knockin' the hell out of somebody. Strong Style dares a man to be great and to exceed his limits.

In Strong Style, you can't be a coward; you can't have your buddies run in to hand you the win; you can't run from what you've done wrong.

I looked forward to fighting a friend for a championship. Instead, I'm gonna have to beat the holy hell out of a strange to preserve the purity of the division."


James sighs and turns his attention to something in the distance, anything to distract him from the unpleasant reality he faces.
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