Nak 4.11: Assassin

[Derek]

This was more like it. The post-match presser in the backstage area of Wrestlemania was setup like the traditional press conferences that Shinsuke Nakamura had taken part in countless times in New Japan. Journalists from the major sports publications sat with their pens and tape recorders, watching the action in the ring on their mobile devices while preparing their questions for the superstars currently at the mic. Most of the participants in the ladder match had forgone the press room, limping back to the locker room and trainer’s table to get wrapped up and iced. But Nakamura just popped his neck, threw on a Kinnikuman t-shirt, and went wandering through the backstage area to enjoy the rest of his first Wrestlemania when he came upon the press room.

In the arena, the crowd was currently getting hyped about the upcoming women’s title match, while here in the back Sami Zayn just finished thanking the reporters for being there and excused himself to sink into an ice bath after his war with Solomon Crowe. Shinsuke nodded to the moderator, Lynne McClinton, that he would field questions next.

Lynne smiled and addressed the assembly. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we finally have someone from the Intercontinental Ladder Match, so any questions you have been holding onto since can finally be answered. He is one of EBWF’s newest acquisitions; please welcome international sensation Shinsuke Nakamura!”

Shinsuke casually strode up to the microphone, twisted smile on his face. He set his phone on the podium and tossed his hair back. “Good evening. I hope you are all enjoying the show.”

Lynne calls on the first reporter. “Shinsuke, how does it feel to take part in your first Wrestlemania?”

Nakamura leans forward. “It was amazing. My skin is still tingling from the electricity the crowd shared with me! The Tokyo Dome holds over fifty thousand people, so to have almost twice of that shouting my name, it is a feeling I will never forget. And to think, I almost didn’t have a match!”

Lynne calls on a second reporter. “There was some surprise online when you were announced as a participant in this match, being so new to the company. Were you shocked to see your name attached to this title?”

Shinsuke stepped through the curtain after his pre-show promo at the go-home show. Austin stepped up to him. “Well, I’ll be damned, son, that wasn’t half bad. And all that talk about hittin’ people gave me a damn blinder of an idea. Walk with me and let me see what you think about it. Hell of a thing to come from a broken fence.”

They walked out of the sight of other backstage employees in the gorilla position and Austin turned to Shinsuke. “Here’s the deal, son. I think you and me think a lot alike. I know what you’re saying about people here always talking out of their ass, but you and me, we’re fighters. We’re shitkickers. You know what I mean?”

Shinsuke shook his head. “I kick people. Not shit.”

Austin let out a short, harsh laugh. “Let me put it another way. I have a lot of respect for a man who gets the job done in the ring the way I’ve seen you do it. That roughneck style. I could use more guys like you in this company to keep all these chatty drama queens in line.”

Shinsuke nods, now understanding. “Ah. Strong style, roughneck, I see where we connect.” The great tradition of the southern asskickers in Japan was well-known to Shinsuke. Hansen, Williams, Gordy. These names still struck fear in the heart of older wrestlers, the unstoppable gaijin monsters. The “roughnecks”.

Austin smiled. “A lot of these guys, I’m going to be honest with you, get on my last goddamned nerve. So I had this plan to book a ladder match, for two reasons. One, it would make the Intercontinental Title seem like a big deal again. And more importantly, it would lead to a lot of people who piss me off taking long falls from tall ladders. And if you can’t use your position of power to hurt people who run their mouths, what is the point of having it?”

The general manager walks by one of the several fridges he makes them keep fully stocked in the backstage of every arena. He pulls out two cans. “Want a beer?”

“I was very happy to be considered for the match, and I hope I did all of my fans back in Japan proud with my resilience and performance. We did not have ladder matches in New Japan, we leave that kind of thing for the Dramatic Dream Team. But I feel I contributed to the match and showed great fighting spirit.”

The next reporter is called on. “As a competitor, you must have been disappointed to not come away with the title?”

Shinsuke popped the tab off his beer. “I held the IWGP Intercontinental title for a very long time, I gave it enough prestige that it was able to main event the Tokyo Dome. It would be my honor to fight for that same prize here. Thank you.”

Austin waited until Nakamura took a swig to continue. “Well now, there’s the rub. Around here there’s a little bit of a hierarchy, you know that word, right? There’s an order to things. You got your mechanics on the bottom to make everyone look good, you got your Breakout division guys who might be new or may have fallen down the card and are looking for a boost back up, you got your Intercontinental guys trying to prove themselves as potential main eventers, and then you got the guys who can fight for the World Title. It would look strange for a guy who only came to America a month ago to jump all the way from the bottom to the IC strap, you know? Now obviously, I can’t legally tell you not to try to win, but I can say that it would be of a real help to me if someone was out there making sure that the people who really deserve some extra bruises get them.”

Nakamura nodded thoughtfully. “The day I hold my first title here in EBWF will be one of the proudest days of my life, and I guarantee you right here and now that as soon as that belt is wrapped around my waist, it will instantly become the most prestigious prize in this company. Today was just not my day, but I am proud to know I made my Wrestlemania moments in another way.”

The fourth reporter with a question is called upon. “Speaking of those moments, there almost seemed to be times in the match where you would forego victory in the name of injuring an opponent. Knowing the final outcome, do you regret that strategy?”

When the opportunity presented itself to choose, Nakamura had passed over attacking Mankind and Kevin Owens to focus on the other three men. Each had earned a place on his hitlist for a different reason. Dolph Ziggler for complaining about his match placement on Warfare and Twitter. Shane Helms for ignoring phone calls and blowing off meetings. Syxx for general unpleasantness.

Now the end of the match was looming. The already-injured Mankind took a few safe bumps and was carted away from the ring, and the remaining five men were varying levels of exhausted. Nakamura was dangling off of Ziggler’s foot as he tried to climb towards the win. Ziggler kicked himself free and Nakamura’s feet landed on the mat. He saw from the corner of his eye Owens charging with a chair, and in the other corner of the ring Syxx was struggling to his feet. Nakamura ran his knee through the champion’s face as he listened to the sound of metal against Ziggler’s flesh. He looked down at Syxx and was assured that he was out for the night.

Looking back up, Shane Helms had gotten ahold of the chair and was now taking it to Owens. Ziggler was trying to get back to his feet after the vicious chair shot he had taken. Swagsuke laid a running soccer kick to the side of his head, ending his relationship with consciousness for the rest of the match. Now Helms was slowly climbing the ladder.

Shinsuke climbed up behind him as he neared the top. He wrapped his arms around Shane’s waist and time slowed down. Shinsuke had enough time to look down at the recovering Owens pulling himself up on the ropes. He had enough time to see the title swinging only feet away. He had enough time to take in the enormity of the crowd as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. He had told himself that he may not be leaving this arena as a champion, but he was going to cement his name in the memories of everyone here. And now he knew how. He smiled, lifted Helms, and let his feet leave the ladder.

Nakamura shrugs. “In those moment, I did what felt right. After being tossed from the ladder so many times, I felt it was smart to focus on removing opposition before they had the chance to do it again!”

The King of Swag hears his phone vibrate. His eyes drift down to a text notification, from Steve Austin. It reads: That damn Dudley, ruining my title belt ceremony. Let him know he just made your list of things to do today.

Nakamura shakes his head and continues before the next question can be called for. “In the end, if anyone else was going to win that belt today, I am glad it was Kevin Owens. He has proven to me twice now that he may not always fight with honor, but he does fight with spirit, and I believe he will be a great champion, at least until the day I finally face him one and one and take it from him, ha!

But Bully Ray, I saw what he did and it made me…ehhh….ashamed? No, disgusted. To be given a title, gifted a championship he did not in reality earn, no matter what the reason, and to spit on it through his actions, to disrespect the…lineage of that belt and to disrespect the man who stood by him to fight for it. It made me feel disgusted. In Japan, we respect the history of our belts, and when they are won, there is gravity and reverence. If anyone in Japan was given the gift of a title and ruined that moment through their own selfish act, they would be treated as the trash they were.

I am saying here today that I will be challenging Bully Ray to a match at the next Warfare, and I pray he is not also a coward and that he will accept. It is unfortunate for him that we are taking a week off, because he will have to face a fresh Nakamura instead of a dented one, ha! We will have our own award ceremony. He did not earn his title, but he has earned a knee into his face. Yeaoh!”

With that, Nakamura stands up and poses for the photographers as Lynne goes to find the next available interviewee.