Post by nuclearnightwings on Apr 28, 2017 10:46:20 GMT
The media swarmed the stage, photographers hard at work while reporters talked amongst themselves, a collective murmuring of question and intrigue. They were all gathered there for a purpose… what it could be, they had no idea. Whatever it was, they all had a feeling it would make a huge impact upon the Japanese wrestling industry.
Suddenly, the stars of the show had arrived…
The cameras in the back of the room whirred to life, televised broadcasting as two young Japanese men stepped onto the stage. The first was a vibrant looking young man, with reddish-brown hair, bright blue eyes, a silver loop pierced into his lower lip, and a cocky smile. His associate, a larger, more muscular and rough looking man with a goatee, two silver studs pierced into the corners of his lower lip, and shorter black hair, walked by his side, his large arms down by his sides with fists balled. The smaller man was dressed in a pair of red Adidas track pants with white stripes down the sides, white sneakers, and a sleeveless white T-shirt, a contrast to his larger partner’s tight black short sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and black boots. The press watched silently as the smaller one took the podium, his friend standing nearby looking serious and intimidating.
"Thank you all for coming," he began in Japanese, his voice raspy and confident, dripping with charisma. "We have called you all here, valued members of the press, for a very important announcement concerning ourselves and the Puroresu world. I think you all will leave here this day, knowing that you were a part of history."
The reporters listened closely, no one daring to interrupt yet. The man speaking smiled slightly, continuing with his speech.
"As you have witnessed in the time that’s passed, we, Ukyo Matsuura and Basho Amuro, have developed into fine athletes and have moved through wrestling circuits with prominent success. As a team we have defeated countless opponents both talented and respected. Alongside that, we have become valued members of the media, myself featuring in commercials and drama shows, and Basho landing a role in the crime film, "Clandestine".
Basho’s arms twitched at that mention, his bicep jumping slightly. Ukyo looked back at him, giving him a slight smirk and went on.
"Not to mention the various variety shows we’ve done on television. With all of our success in such a short time, it’s clear to us that we will dominate the Puroresu industry in close to a few years. We’re confident to say that we WILL be the main event of puroresu if continued in our course of action."
There were nods and mentions of agreement in the crowd. Ukyo nodded himself, his smile fading.
"That is… we WOULD be the main event of Puroresu."
The murmuring started there. Voices questioned his words, but no one spoke up. The reporters knew what he meant, but they didn’t understand it. Finally one reporter in the crowd dared to ask.
"Are you saying that you and Amuro are leaving wrestling?"
Ukyo stepped back, folding his arms and not responding. That only led to more questions shooting out, all following that course of questioning.
"Are you two breaking your team up to pursue single’s careers?"
"What about leaving wrestling to succeed in your television and film projects?"
"Matsuura-san, are you possibly thinking of going back to baseball and signing with the Yomiuri Giants?"
Ukyo stepped back to the podium, bracing his hands against its sides and smiling.
"I assure you, we are NOT leaving the wrestling world.’
There was almost a collective sigh of relief coming out of them all. Basho exhaled deeply, Ukyo’s gaze lowering, but his smile raising.
"But… we are leaving Japan."
Where there was a collective sigh, also came a collective gasp of shock. Everyone couldn’t believe what had come from Ukyo’s lips. Ukyo looked back up, his bright blue eyes looking quite focused and zealous.
"Our reason, you ask? It’s quite simple, really. It’s because of our success, that we’re leaving. Between the two of us, we’ve made the fastest rise to fame than any other athlete in this business. We don’t attribute this to talent, otherwise there’d be a few others that would be as famous as us, but they’re not. Only US. Basho and I truly believe… that this is all thanks to who we are, not what we’ve become."
One reporters questioned that statement, where Ukyo explained.
"Who are we?" he asked him back. The reporter hesitated for a moment.
"Uh… Matsuura Ukyo and Amuro Basho."
"Right you are!" Ukyo said with a grin. "Matsuura… and Amuro. Because we are Matsuura and Amuro, we’ve gained the success we have. Because we’re the sons… of Matsuura and Amuro."
Basho grumbled to himself a bit, a frown coming upon his face. Well… a larger frown.
"Do you actually think there’s any challenge here for us? When you’re the sons of Goemon Amuro and Naizen Matsuura, can you really think you’re just gonna get a fair ride in the business? Hell no! Because our fathers are so legendary, we have no chance of making a success out of ourselves, not with our own name, and our own abilities. We’d always be the sons of Goemon and Naizen… and so because of that, we renounce our puroresu links, and we shall take leave of Japanese wrestling. Instead, we’re turning to America....and the Warrior Wrestling League...to share our talents, because there, we can pursue a wrestling career free of our family name; free of the tradition that burdens us and holds us down! In fact, the Mega Soaring Arrows are dead as of this moment....we are now...THE NUCLEAR NIGHT WINGS!"
Distraught voices went through the room, everyone trying to make sense of what Ukyo was saying.
"Ukyo, what would your father think if he were still alive?"
"Basho, what of your family?
"What of your brother, Ukyo? Will he follow in your rejection of puroresu?"
"Have you spoken with your sponsors? Have you any idea how they’ll react when they learn two of their top spokesmen aren’t the loyalists they thought appropriate to sell their merchandise?"
Ukyo shook his head as he tried to calm them down. "I assure you, all business matters will be taken care of. As for our family, they learned at the same moment you all did." He pointed at the TV camera, giving a short wave and a smile. "This was a decision made by Basho and myself, and it will not change no matter what our families may say. We have made our decision, and that’s final. With that declared, ladies and gentlemen of the press, dear friends and fans of the Puro world, fellow Japanese… we bid you farewell. We hope to see you all again as individuals, known for our own talents, and not of our name."
More questions came out, but Ukyo stepped away from the podium and joined Basho. He tapped fists with his friend before stepping off stage and walking through the crowd. The reporters tried to flail them questions as they left, but Ukyo would not answer any more.
But something came through… one question, that he could not turn away from.
"Do you possibly think going to America will make you as good as your fathers?"
The two stopped dead in their tracks, turning around slowly to look at the reporter who asked that. A man in a black suit with silver framed glasses and a tape recorder stared wide-eyed as Ukyo walked towards him, a taller more imposing Basho glaring down at him with an upset look.
‘What’d…" Ukyo said, his eye twitching on the right side. "…you say?"
"Uh, I just asked if… going to America… would make you as good as…" he stopped right there, knowing where he made his mistake. But it was already made… and it was already noticed. Nothing more he could do now… "as good as… as good as…"
"As who?" Ukyo asked, he and Basho stepping closer to the man. "OUR FATHERS?"
Suddenly another reporter came to his friend’s aid. "Hey, you can’t intimidate him! He’s a member of the press!"
Basho didn’t listen to any more of his words, lowering his arms as he exploded from his spot, tackling the second reporter to the ground as the mass of media jumped back, giving the scene room to unfold. Ukyo snapped next, punching the first questioning reporter in the nose before grabbing him by the shoulder and throwing him on stage! Basho knelt over the second reporter flailing him with punches before standing up and stepping on his recorder, snatching a camera from a nearby photographer and throwing it roughly into his midsection. Ukyo grabbed his reporter and kneed him in the gut before slinging him into the glass podium, knocking it to its side, but not shattering it.
"Basho!" Ukyo called out angrily. Basho nodded, jumping on stage and glaring down at the damaged man as Ukyo set the glass podium level on the ground, kicking wires and microphones out of the way. Then he and Basho picked the first reporter up, turning him around and grabbing him around his waist. With a slight snap the two of them lifted the man high overhead, turned him upside down, and drove his head right through the glass with a double backdrop driver!!!
Everyone gasped in awe as glass shattered across the stage. Ukyo and Basho jumped up, Basho seething as he glared down at the unconscious man bloodied in the back of his head and neck. Ukyo jumped down, Basho following as they walked towards the door. The press parted out of fear, the TV cameras still rolling, showing Ukyo and Basho coming straight for the camera.
Ukyo stopped in front of the camera, Basho slightly off camera to the right. Ukyo smirked arrogantly, flipping up a black nailed middle finger as he winked to the audiences at home.
"Sayonara, SUCKERS!" those words came out crystal clear English. He was sure of it.
As soon as he said that, he stepped away, and Basho swung a metal chair into the lens, sending the viewers into a snowy static wonderland…
Suddenly, the stars of the show had arrived…
The cameras in the back of the room whirred to life, televised broadcasting as two young Japanese men stepped onto the stage. The first was a vibrant looking young man, with reddish-brown hair, bright blue eyes, a silver loop pierced into his lower lip, and a cocky smile. His associate, a larger, more muscular and rough looking man with a goatee, two silver studs pierced into the corners of his lower lip, and shorter black hair, walked by his side, his large arms down by his sides with fists balled. The smaller man was dressed in a pair of red Adidas track pants with white stripes down the sides, white sneakers, and a sleeveless white T-shirt, a contrast to his larger partner’s tight black short sleeved shirt, blue jeans, and black boots. The press watched silently as the smaller one took the podium, his friend standing nearby looking serious and intimidating.
"Thank you all for coming," he began in Japanese, his voice raspy and confident, dripping with charisma. "We have called you all here, valued members of the press, for a very important announcement concerning ourselves and the Puroresu world. I think you all will leave here this day, knowing that you were a part of history."
The reporters listened closely, no one daring to interrupt yet. The man speaking smiled slightly, continuing with his speech.
"As you have witnessed in the time that’s passed, we, Ukyo Matsuura and Basho Amuro, have developed into fine athletes and have moved through wrestling circuits with prominent success. As a team we have defeated countless opponents both talented and respected. Alongside that, we have become valued members of the media, myself featuring in commercials and drama shows, and Basho landing a role in the crime film, "Clandestine".
Basho’s arms twitched at that mention, his bicep jumping slightly. Ukyo looked back at him, giving him a slight smirk and went on.
"Not to mention the various variety shows we’ve done on television. With all of our success in such a short time, it’s clear to us that we will dominate the Puroresu industry in close to a few years. We’re confident to say that we WILL be the main event of puroresu if continued in our course of action."
There were nods and mentions of agreement in the crowd. Ukyo nodded himself, his smile fading.
"That is… we WOULD be the main event of Puroresu."
The murmuring started there. Voices questioned his words, but no one spoke up. The reporters knew what he meant, but they didn’t understand it. Finally one reporter in the crowd dared to ask.
"Are you saying that you and Amuro are leaving wrestling?"
Ukyo stepped back, folding his arms and not responding. That only led to more questions shooting out, all following that course of questioning.
"Are you two breaking your team up to pursue single’s careers?"
"What about leaving wrestling to succeed in your television and film projects?"
"Matsuura-san, are you possibly thinking of going back to baseball and signing with the Yomiuri Giants?"
Ukyo stepped back to the podium, bracing his hands against its sides and smiling.
"I assure you, we are NOT leaving the wrestling world.’
There was almost a collective sigh of relief coming out of them all. Basho exhaled deeply, Ukyo’s gaze lowering, but his smile raising.
"But… we are leaving Japan."
Where there was a collective sigh, also came a collective gasp of shock. Everyone couldn’t believe what had come from Ukyo’s lips. Ukyo looked back up, his bright blue eyes looking quite focused and zealous.
"Our reason, you ask? It’s quite simple, really. It’s because of our success, that we’re leaving. Between the two of us, we’ve made the fastest rise to fame than any other athlete in this business. We don’t attribute this to talent, otherwise there’d be a few others that would be as famous as us, but they’re not. Only US. Basho and I truly believe… that this is all thanks to who we are, not what we’ve become."
One reporters questioned that statement, where Ukyo explained.
"Who are we?" he asked him back. The reporter hesitated for a moment.
"Uh… Matsuura Ukyo and Amuro Basho."
"Right you are!" Ukyo said with a grin. "Matsuura… and Amuro. Because we are Matsuura and Amuro, we’ve gained the success we have. Because we’re the sons… of Matsuura and Amuro."
Basho grumbled to himself a bit, a frown coming upon his face. Well… a larger frown.
"Do you actually think there’s any challenge here for us? When you’re the sons of Goemon Amuro and Naizen Matsuura, can you really think you’re just gonna get a fair ride in the business? Hell no! Because our fathers are so legendary, we have no chance of making a success out of ourselves, not with our own name, and our own abilities. We’d always be the sons of Goemon and Naizen… and so because of that, we renounce our puroresu links, and we shall take leave of Japanese wrestling. Instead, we’re turning to America....and the Warrior Wrestling League...to share our talents, because there, we can pursue a wrestling career free of our family name; free of the tradition that burdens us and holds us down! In fact, the Mega Soaring Arrows are dead as of this moment....we are now...THE NUCLEAR NIGHT WINGS!"
Distraught voices went through the room, everyone trying to make sense of what Ukyo was saying.
"Ukyo, what would your father think if he were still alive?"
"Basho, what of your family?
"What of your brother, Ukyo? Will he follow in your rejection of puroresu?"
"Have you spoken with your sponsors? Have you any idea how they’ll react when they learn two of their top spokesmen aren’t the loyalists they thought appropriate to sell their merchandise?"
Ukyo shook his head as he tried to calm them down. "I assure you, all business matters will be taken care of. As for our family, they learned at the same moment you all did." He pointed at the TV camera, giving a short wave and a smile. "This was a decision made by Basho and myself, and it will not change no matter what our families may say. We have made our decision, and that’s final. With that declared, ladies and gentlemen of the press, dear friends and fans of the Puro world, fellow Japanese… we bid you farewell. We hope to see you all again as individuals, known for our own talents, and not of our name."
More questions came out, but Ukyo stepped away from the podium and joined Basho. He tapped fists with his friend before stepping off stage and walking through the crowd. The reporters tried to flail them questions as they left, but Ukyo would not answer any more.
But something came through… one question, that he could not turn away from.
"Do you possibly think going to America will make you as good as your fathers?"
The two stopped dead in their tracks, turning around slowly to look at the reporter who asked that. A man in a black suit with silver framed glasses and a tape recorder stared wide-eyed as Ukyo walked towards him, a taller more imposing Basho glaring down at him with an upset look.
‘What’d…" Ukyo said, his eye twitching on the right side. "…you say?"
"Uh, I just asked if… going to America… would make you as good as…" he stopped right there, knowing where he made his mistake. But it was already made… and it was already noticed. Nothing more he could do now… "as good as… as good as…"
"As who?" Ukyo asked, he and Basho stepping closer to the man. "OUR FATHERS?"
Suddenly another reporter came to his friend’s aid. "Hey, you can’t intimidate him! He’s a member of the press!"
Basho didn’t listen to any more of his words, lowering his arms as he exploded from his spot, tackling the second reporter to the ground as the mass of media jumped back, giving the scene room to unfold. Ukyo snapped next, punching the first questioning reporter in the nose before grabbing him by the shoulder and throwing him on stage! Basho knelt over the second reporter flailing him with punches before standing up and stepping on his recorder, snatching a camera from a nearby photographer and throwing it roughly into his midsection. Ukyo grabbed his reporter and kneed him in the gut before slinging him into the glass podium, knocking it to its side, but not shattering it.
"Basho!" Ukyo called out angrily. Basho nodded, jumping on stage and glaring down at the damaged man as Ukyo set the glass podium level on the ground, kicking wires and microphones out of the way. Then he and Basho picked the first reporter up, turning him around and grabbing him around his waist. With a slight snap the two of them lifted the man high overhead, turned him upside down, and drove his head right through the glass with a double backdrop driver!!!
Everyone gasped in awe as glass shattered across the stage. Ukyo and Basho jumped up, Basho seething as he glared down at the unconscious man bloodied in the back of his head and neck. Ukyo jumped down, Basho following as they walked towards the door. The press parted out of fear, the TV cameras still rolling, showing Ukyo and Basho coming straight for the camera.
Ukyo stopped in front of the camera, Basho slightly off camera to the right. Ukyo smirked arrogantly, flipping up a black nailed middle finger as he winked to the audiences at home.
"Sayonara, SUCKERS!" those words came out crystal clear English. He was sure of it.
As soon as he said that, he stepped away, and Basho swung a metal chair into the lens, sending the viewers into a snowy static wonderland…