One week. That's all it took for a small-time star to be shipped to the big arena. She was given an offer, the cost of terminating her current contract covered, and expected to reply within two days. It didn't even take her one. She had to move to make it happen. But in truth, she barely had time to settle in before she was told she'd been scheduled for a bout in the next show.
One week.
She'd been sitting in the dressing room, staring into the mirror. She'd just finished applying a thin coat of pink lip gloss. She'd already dressed for the night - black wrestling bra worn beneath a pink longsleeve, black short shorts, matching wrestling boots, and choker. She looked the same as she did for most shows over the past four years - sure, her hair'd seen some changes, her clothes certainly different - but it's those same big green eyes. Yet these circumstances are different. Very, very different. She had to suit up in a bathroom for her last federation. Here, there's deluxe lighting and an attendant waiting outside. Hell, there's even a
bed back here. '
What,' she thought upon seeing it, '
are these people narcoleptic?' But now all she can think about is where she's landed.
It's a far cry from orchestral music and sound design.
"
Miss Oshiro," came the voice from outside. "
They're ready for you."
A smile slowly spread over her face as her eyes narrowed. "
No they're not."
It was difficult, resisting the urge to peek through the curtains and see what kind of crowd she'd be working with. She couldn't even imagine it. Her federation was packed, but it was independent. It had to work within its means. And then there was the sound of her opponent making her entrance, the fans cheering her on. She couldn't even see
that. A look to her attendant gave nothing away - this was totally normal for him. Heck, he wasn't about to get into a physical fight with a stranger. But it does spur a question.
"
Did they take care of what I asked?"
The man seems surprised to be addressed at this phase, but politely nods. "
They were very specific."
They really were. She needed everything to be in place to make the best possible first impression with this new venue. Fortunately, the management seemed intrigued and let her get away with it. Untested though she was, her zeal couldn't be denied.
The lights dim and the top of the ramp comes alive with brilliant green and red lasers, set in time with the throbbing baseline now pumping through the arena speakers. Behind the curtain, her head bows and eyes shut.
The announcer begins, "
And introducing! From Osaka, Japan! Weighing in at one hundred and twenty-four pounds, and a height of five feet, five inches! Making her LAW debut! KATSUMI! OOOSHIROOO!"
She throws back the curtains and steps out onto the ramp, arms raised and fingers splayed in reveal. Her arms then drop to her sides, though a fist finds position at her hip, now cocked, with an incredulous look shot all the way to Marissa in the ring. She exhales an animated puff of a scoff and starts down the ramp to the ring. Her walk is a confident sashay to match the smile on her face, and as she nears the ring, she takes the hem of her shirt to pull up and over her head.
Once removed, the garment is tossed to the corner of the ring, leaving her only in her wrestling gear. She climbs up onto the ring apron and turns out to the audience, flashes a wink, and backrolls over the top rope to neatly land on the mat. From there, she simply backs into her corner to let the referee check her for weapons. Her eyes never leave Marissa in the corner, nor does that confident smile.
