I sat at ringside, my VIP lanyard hanging around my neck. I’d been to shows to watch Matt and Nick before, but being in the Tokyo Dome was something else entirely. I’d never seen so many people packed together for a wrestling show before. The rafters vibrated with the noise. There’d been streamers and confetti. Pyro and feature-length entrance videos. Costumes and wrestling gear that was ornate and beautiful.
This was only the second time I’d been to Japan, and the first time I’d ever been inside the huge auditorium. I’d never seen them in action at a Japanese event, but I’d heard their stories of the fans and the enthusiasm. They fed off the fans, and it seemed that the ones who came to their shows here were the best in the world.
Hearing them shout and chant until the rafters rumbled, I believed them.
I’d only had a few minutes to talk to Matt and Nick before they disappeared into their locker room to get warmed up and dressed for their match. It was a title match, a fight for their seventh IWGP Junior Heavyweight Tag championship. They didn’t have to tell me much for me to realize that Wrestle Kingdom was as big as or bigger than Wrestlemania. I could see it in their eyes. They went into every match as if it were the Big One, but this one really was the Big One.
On one of the biggest stages in the wrestling world.
They opened the show.
I jumped to my feet when their music began, the Bullet Club logo with the tiger print bandana filling the screen. Their gear was purple splashed through with yellow—the Bullet Club logo on one side, the Elite logo on their backsides—with fringe on the bottoms. Matching streamers hung from the arms of their leather jackets. Headbands held back their hair. They grinned at me as they passed by where I sat at ringside.
Warmth spread through me when Matt winked just before they swung themselves up onto the apron and into the ring. Their opponents squared up, holding the titles over their heads tauntingly. The bell rang, and the battle was on.
It was twenty minutes of hell. I’d watched Matt and Nick go through hundreds of matches. I’d seen them in situations and spots that made me want to hide my face rather than watch. More often than not, I went into their matches knowing that I was going to panic and worry. But this one… five minutes in I thought I was going to be sick.
I wasn’t even in the ring, but I was as nervous as if I were.
***
The moment they disappeared back into the locker room, I slipped out of my seat. They’d won their titles. Seven-time champions in a win by submission. It wasn’t their normal method of ending a match, but it was a win.
I stopped by the concession stand and got a couple bottled waters. Then, I flashed my VIP pass at the guard and took off at a run through the concrete hallways of the Tokyo Dome. I stopped a few feet into the hall when I realized that I didn’t have a solid memory of their locker room’s location. The Tokyo Dome was a labyrinth of identical corridors that seemed to lead in every direction at the same time.
People passed by, but I couldn’t get up the courage to ask for help. For one, I didn’t speak a word of Japanese. For two, I didn’t want to look like some weird fan who’d weaseled their way backstage. At best, I’d wander around for a while and find them (or they’d find me). At worst, I’d wander around all night and they’d send out a search party when the show was over.
Luckily, after five or ten minutes of meandering up and down hallways, I caught sight of fringe disappearing around a corner. My heart thundered in my chest, knocking the air out of my lungs. The excitement of the match and their win rushed over me again.
I let out a shout. “Matt! Nick!”
My name echoed back toward me. I ran toward the sound, whipping around the corner to see Nick standing a hundred or so feet away. He had one of the title belts slung over his shoulder and a sheen of sweat on his brow. Nick grinned when he saw me.
I didn’t think. I let my feet take control. They pushed me down the hallway, reducing the space between Nick and I to nothing. His grin got bigger when I got closer, and his blue eyes sparked with happiness.
The moment I was close enough, I jumped into his arms. His eyes went wide with surprise as he dropped the title on the floor and caught me up in a tight embrace. It didn’t matter that he was practically dripping with sweat and had a post-match funk around him. His light brown hair stuck to his face, hardly held back by his bandana.
I didn’t even think twice. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him full on the lips. I blinked and closed my eyes, surprised when he kissed me in return. One of his hands slid into my hair, wrapping around my ponytail.
Time stood still. A split second became an eternity. I barely registered the taste of his lips before reality smacked into me. Shame burned across my cheeks as I pulled away and wriggled out of Nick’s hold.
From the corner of my eye, I watched him clench his fist at his side. I could hear his breath, heavy and desperate. Dizziness caught hold of me as I bent down to pick the title up off the floor. It was heavier than I expected, the metal had already sapped the cold from the concrete floor. I gripped the leather strap tight and held it out with one hand. With the other, I offered him a bottle of water.
The truth of what just happened kept me from looking him in the eye.
“You guys were amazing,” I said, speaking more to his collarbone than his face. If I stared straight ahead, it wasn’t so bad. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly. His voice was deep and rough with something that I didn’t want to think about. From the corner of my eye, I watched him hoist the title back over his shoulder and crack the top of the bottle. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he chugged half of it down.
Before either of us could say anything else, a door opened just behind him. Matt stepped out into the hallway with a warm, wide smile. His brown eyes lit up when he saw me, and it made guilt spike through me.
He laughed and ran at me, sweeping me up into a bear hug and twirling me around in a wide circle. I squealed and flung my arms around him. “Did you see that? Did you effing see that?”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest. I grinned back. “Every second of it. Even that Sharpshooter.”
“A submission!” Matt shouted. The sound echoed down the hallway and pulled laughter out of me.
“Yeah, but you weren’t the one who got caught in one… I’m going to have a jacked up back for days,” Nick added from behind me. I swallowed hard, trying to forget what just happened.
I handed Matt the other bottle of water and leaned against the wall. “Let’s get back to the hotel and I’ll get some ice for the both of you. And we’ll order room service.”
Matt hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I felt his lips warm against my forehead. “Isn’t she sweet? Taking care of us.”
I finally met Nick’s blue eyes. They were clear and bright. He smiled. “She’s the best. But we knew that a long time ago.”
“And don’t you forget it,” I said, slapping them on the biceps. “Now, get cleaned up and let’s get going. I’m starving.”
With the flash of another grin, Matt leaned down and kissed me swiftly, his mouth lingering on mine for a moment. “Give us five minutes, Y/N,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at his brother. “Mind guarding the titles for us?”
I jumped when Nick slipped his arms around me. He settled his belt around my waist and snapped it closed. If I’d thought it was heavy to pick up, it was even heavier to wear. It hung low around my hips. I was afraid to move. Matt put his over my shoulder.
Just before he slipped into the locker room, Nick pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
I’ve only seen a few New Japan matches in my life. To be honest I’ve spent more time reading about them in wrestlers books, than I’ve spent watching them. The language barrier is a big problem for me because I find it distracting, more than I miss announcers telling me what’s going on.
With all that said, Chris Jericho is my guy. As far as I am concerned, he is the best wrestler of all time, in the ring, or on the mic. There is no argument to be made for anyone with more charisma, and I don’t care which version of Jericho you pick. As for wrestling ability he is an all-timer. Others might be better, but nobody has done it so well for so long.
Kenny Omega, I don’t really know. He looks like a guy that would server hot dogs at 7/11. Other than that, I know he’s that Bullet Club guy who is pretty good in Japan. I wouldn’t, and haven’t tuned into NJPW for Omega, but I did for Jericho.
Holy shit! I’ve been missing out. Omega is clearly great, and I think he and Jericho may have locked up match of the year with 361 days to go, but NJPW stole the show.
They have everything WWE tries to manufacter. Jericho’s entrance was great because it was not over produced. Same with Omega. Some lights, some music, and most importantly, a ravenous crowd excited to see them. It genuinely felt like a show from the late 90s, in the best way.
The match itself was more than I or anyone else could have hoped for. These two guys tore the house down in their very first match together.
I like WWE. For some reason people don’t really want to admit that. With that said, I don’t want Jericho back in WWE anytime soon. I can only imagine what these two could do together with a proper story line and a series of matches. It would have to be in NJPW, though.
If Omega were to jump to WWE, these two would have an angle at some point to try and recapture what they did last night. Maybe they can, but they probably can’t. WWE would never let them have a match like the one from WK12 because they did some crazy stuff.
I’m not an ECW nut so I don’t like the super violent stuff. I like knowing the guy I’m rooting for is going to be able to have many more matches and a healthy retirement. These two fit into the exception because they are highly skilled veterans.
Big picture though, NJPW showed me something WWE can’t provide. There’s no arguing with that because with Jericho in the match we have an apples to apples comparison.
If we add up the score card, NJPW has nostalgia, properly and not overly produced shows, great talent that isn’t limited, and flexibility to bring in talent from other promotions for limited appearances. WWE doesn’t do any of these things.
I have to hate NJPW because it is so good, it has pretty much ruined modern WWE.
Halfway through that match I realised that Okada would win because the question was; what if Naito lost? What if, after everything, the double main event, winning the G1, what if he lost? What if he just couldn't do it?
With the crowd behind him Naito couldn't win. He hates the fact that after everything they've done to him they now love him. So hearing them cheer for him would have made him hate them. And yes,he preaches tranquilo but hear in god the cheers would have enraged him and he would be less focused on Okada.
But now Naito can go forward, he can blame the fans, he can raise hell. Winning the title would almost have meant that he was some sort of face, this way he gets to be the heel.
Got into Tokyo yesterday afternoon. Just explored near our hotel 🇯🇵 Tokyo Dome. Poster outside Lawsons convenience store which i think is signed by Tanahashi. Green tea which comes out of the vending machine hot.
