Archive of Our Own

October 9, 2020

When Mizuki woke up, the first thing she realized was that she wasn’t in her own bed. This wouldn’t be terribly unusual, but she wasn’t in Yuka’s bed, either. She didn’t recognize her surroundings at all.

The second thing she realized was that she wasn’t in her own body. This body was taller than hers, more muscular. It seemed to be a man’s body.

This must be a dream. But it didn’t feel like one.

Mizuki got out of bed, then went looking for the bathroom. She fumbled for the light switch.

She stared at her reflection, blinking at the unfamiliar face that gazed back at her. She reached up and touched her brown curls, watching as the man in the mirror did the same.

"Who am I?" Mizuki asked. The sound of her own voice startled her.

She thought she recognized this man, but perhaps he just looked very similar to someone else.

After a little searching, she located his wallet. Opening it up, she quickly discovered his name: Katsuhiko Nakajima. Just as she'd thought.

"So, I'm still a wrestler," she said.

Her eyes widened. Perhaps if she was in his body, then he was in hers.

She grabbed his phone, then called her own number. It rang for a long while before someone picked up. The person at the other end of the line didn't speak.

"Hello?" Mizuki asked. "Is this Katsuhiko Nakajima?"

There was a moment of silence, and then she heard her own voice mutter, "Fuck."

Sometimes, she hated being right.

"How did this happen? What did you do?" Mizuki asked.

"Me? Why would this be my fault? I didn't do anything," Nakajima said. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Mizuki said, frustrated. "I don't even know you!"

"Well, one of us has to be responsible for this, and it sure as hell wasn't me."

"Fine. It was neither of our fault, then," Mizuki said. "But we still have to live with it, at least for now."

She wandered into the kitchen, looking to see what options she had for breakfast.

"I've got my own problems," Nakajima said. "I don't need yours."

"I have a match tomorrow." Mizuki looked at the calendar page stuck to the refrigerator. "And it looks like you have one in two days."

Nakajima was silent at the other end of the line.

"If you want me to be able to wrestle your match, then you're going to need to help me, okay?" Mizuki said. "And I can help you be me, at least until we get this fixed. If we don't work together, we're just going to mess up each other's lives."

But all Nakajima had to say was: "I don't care."

Then he hung up, and the line went dead.

Mizuki stifled a yell of frustration.

As she ate breakfast, she scrolled through a bunch of articles about Pro Wrestling Noah's Katsuhiko Nakajima. Reading about his recent actions did not improve her opinion of the man.

She punched her own number into the phone and called it again.

This time, he picked up on the second ring.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"What the hell, man?" she said. "You betrayed your partner?"

He hung up on her.

The next two times Mizuki tried to call, he didn't answer. She gave up after that.

She spent the rest of the morning watching his recent matches. She watched a few Axiz tag matches prior to the betrayal, then the betrayal itself. The whole time, she focused on Nakajima, trying to figure out this stranger who now held her entire life in his hands.

He was inscrutable to her.

Sometimes, Mizuki would feel flashes of empathy for him, but then she'd replay the betrayal and think of Yuka in Shiozaki's place, and she'd hate him again.

"Why'd you do it, Katsuhiko?" she asked, out loud, in his voice.

But of course he didn't answer. She suspected he wouldn't tell her if she asked over the phone, either.

She thought about Go Shiozaki staying up for two nights without sleeping because he couldn't figure out why Nakajima had turned on him. A lot of fan blogs had their own theories. Mizuki scrolled through them, wondering if Shiozaki had also read them while attempting to understand his former partner's motive for betraying him.

Since Nakajima wasn't going to talk to her, she resorted to snooping through his things. Either he could tell her about himself directly, or she was going to learn about him this way.

After a little searching, she uncovered a box at the back of his closet. She pulled it out and lifted the lid.

The box wasn't packed nicely. All its contents were haphazardly crammed in there like Nakajima had thrown them inside in a hurry, wanting to get them out of sight as soon as possible. At the very top sat the special matching gear he'd commissioned for Axiz's last match as a team. It looked unworn.

Mizuki took out all the gear and set it aside. Underneath, there was other Axiz memorabilia and three photobooks. The most recent one, GREEN, was the very last thing in the box, packed at the bottom, buried beneath everything else.

Mizuki flipped through the three photobooks absently. Then, with a sigh, she packed everything back into the box. She took care to fold the pieces of clothing instead of just stuffing them back in like how she'd found them. If he ever looked in here again, Nakajima would realize that she'd gone through his stuff, but honestly, she couldn't care less about his feelings.

She waited until the evening to call him again.

To her surprise, he actually picked up.

"I don't believe you when you say you don't care," Mizuki said.

His end of the line was silent. Well, at least he hadn't hung up.

"Your next match isn't just any match," Mizuki continued. "You're in the N-1 finals. If you win, you'll earn a shot at Shiozaki's title."

Silence.

"So, I'm going to give you a deal, okay? If you wrestle my match for me and don't mess it up, then I'll wrestle yours for you without messing it up. But if you ruin things with Yuka, I'll make sure that you lose to Kiyomiya."

Nakajima laughed.

"You really think you can do it?" he asked. "You think you can go after her title and still tag with her and not get eaten up by your ambition?"

"Is that why you did it?" She couldn't stop herself from asking.

"You know nothing about me," he hissed, his voice cold.

"No one does," she said. "Well, Kenoh thinks he does." She sat down on the edge of his bed, absently kicking her feet.

"You've been studying."

"He sent me a text an hour ago, but I didn't know how to respond, so I've been ignoring it," Mizuki confessed.

"Send it to me."

Mizuki did.

The line went quiet for a moment, then she received a text from Nakajima: "😏👍"

Rolling her eyes, Mizuki typed out the emoji and sent them to Kenoh.

"You're an awful person," she said, leaning back on the bed.

"Like you're any better," Nakajima countered. "I've seen your matches."

"Wait, you've been studying me, too?" If he was making an effort to watch her wrestling, then that was a good sign.

"I got curious." That was all he offered.

"Well, if Yuka texts you anything, send it to me before you reply," Mizuki said.

"I haven't heard from her."

Mizuki sat up a little. "Nothing?" she asked. "Hmm, that's weird. Usually she texts me multiple times a day."

"Trouble in paradise?" Nakajima sneered, his voice dripping with smugness.

Mizuki's hand tightened around the phone. She resisted the urge to throw it against the wall. "You don't get to talk about my relationships," she said.

"Then how do you expect me not to ruin things for you with Yuka if you won't even talk to me about her?"

"I'll talk about her, but you have to be nice to her, okay?" Mizuki said. "She's been under a lot of pressure this year. I'm sure she's just trying to give me some space leading up to our match next month."

Nakajima went quiet for a long moment. "If she gives you too much space, you might realize you're better off without her."

"That's not going to happen," Mizuki said. "We're a team, and I love her. But..." she sighed. "It is a bit hard, teaming with her when I know we're going to have to fight in a month. Maybe some space would do us some good."

"It's easier to win if you hate her," Nakajima said.

"I'm not listening to your advice."

Her phone received a text. It was from Nakajima: "😈"

"Oh my god, why are you like this?" Mizuki groaned. "I don't get how Shiozaki ever fell for you."

"For my dazzling good looks and the excellent blowjobs."

"Eugh," Mizuki said, making a face.

Nakajima laughed.

"Okay, well, I'm going to tell you how to get to the venue tomorrow and all that," she said. "Make sure you know the names of everyone on the Tokyo Joshi Pro roster. We're all pretty close."

She talked to him for the next few hours, trying to convey all the information that he might possibly need to know to be able to impersonate her without raising anyone's suspicion. She didn't know if he listened.

By the time she finished talking, it had gotten late.

"I'll call you after the show tomorrow to check in, okay?" Mizuki said.

He gave a very noncommittal answer, then hung up.

Mizuki just sighed and set the phone down. Then she went to get ready for bed, not expecting to get any sleep that night.

After a couple hours of fitful rest, she awoke from a nightmare. She sat up in bed, in this unfamiliar room, in this stranger's body, and tried not to cry.

The sun was up, so she got up, too, the world outside the window bathed in watery light.

Several hours from now, Nakajima was going to team up with Yuka and Suzume and wrestle in front of a live crowd, and Mizuki would just have to cross her fingers and pray that it all went well.

She didn't have much faith.

Noon steadily crept closer. Mizuki paced the apartment nervously, phone clutched tight, wanting to be at hand in case Nakajima called her with any questions.

Nothing.

Half an hour before bell time, Mizuki opened twitter. She already knew that the next few hours were going to be absolutely agonizing.

"Why did this have to be a VOD show?" she muttered.

There was nothing she could do besides attempt to gleam whatever she could about the show from fans posting about it on social media. It would be a few days before she could even watch Nakajima's performance.

The show started. Judging from fans' tweets, everything was going perfectly normally. She scrolled past photographs of her friends and occasional comments about their antics. Despite her nerves, she found herself smiling as she read the tweets.

When she saw that the main event had started, she took a deep breath. Then she refreshed the feed.

It was odd, looking at pictures of herself but having no memory of the events depicted.

Nakajima had done a decent job of impersonating her. He wore the right gear, and his hair and makeup looked fine. There was something in his expressions that read as off to Mizuki, but she doubted that would be noticeable to the fans.

She paused on a picture of him standing beside Yuka. Yuka was staring at him, and she had such a sad look on her face, Mizuki stopped breathing for a moment. Nakajima's gaze was focused away from her. He was staring at their opponents across the ring with a single-minded look of determination.

From the comments by fans, it was, by all appearances, a typical match.

Mizuki felt relieved. Maybe everything was going to be okay after all.

But then the match ended, and Mizuki found a picture of Nakajima and Yuka holding microphones and facing each other, and there were tears on Yuka's cheek.

"No," Mizuki whispered.

Desperately, she looked for a tweet that explained what had happened, what Nakajima had done.

The clearest one she found said: "The Magical Sugar Rabbits will be taking a break."

"Nakajima, you bastard," Mizuki muttered. She set the phone down in front of her and closed her eyes. "It's fine. This is fine," she repeated. If he'd turned on her, they'd all be talking about it. I can live with a break.

Some part of her wondered, then, if he'd done this in an attempt to help her, in his own twisted way. Mizuki had mentioned wanting some space, and Nakajima had seemingly gotten it for her. She just hoped the cost hadn't been too high.

Shortly after the show ended, Mizuki called him.

The phone rang, and he did not pick up.

Maybe he's busy getting dressed, she thought.

She gave him fifteen minutes, then called again.

No response.

Thirty minutes later, still nothing. An hour, nothing.

Over and over again, she called and called, but he never answered.

The next day, on October 11, Mizuki arrived late at the venue for the Noah show. Trying to arrange her travel as Nakajima was a nightmare, and even when she made it to Osaka, she didn't account for the storm.

By the time the show started, her phone had accumulated a number of texts from Kenoh. They got increasingly angrier in tone the longer she ignored them. She faithfully sent them to Nakajima, but he wouldn't even reply to those, so she felt justified in ignoring them. At least it was in character.

Truthfully, Mizuki was afraid to spend time with Kenoh, because he struck her as the type of person who could easily see through bullshit.

In that sense, arriving late benefited her. It made it easier for her to avoid interacting with the rest of Kongoh. Or with Shiozaki, for that matter.

She didn't watch Shiozaki's match that night, no matter how much she wanted to. She wanted to see the man that Nakajima had loved; the man he'd betrayed. But Nakajima wouldn't watch it, so that meant she couldn't, either.

As Mizuki prepared to face Kaito Kiyomiya, she felt oddly at peace.

There were many things about Nakajima that she didn't understand. But at least this match seemed straightforward. She could do this. She could win.

Nakajima's music hit, and she walked out. As alien as the atmosphere around her felt, it was familiar, too.

She closed her eyes for a moment, her face still hidden beneath the hood, letting Nakajima's character settle into her.

Mizuki grinned as she pulled off the mask.

Perhaps it was a bad thing, how easily she tapped into this side of herself.

Kiyomiya fought her with a kind of desperate passion, and Mizuki provoked his temper at every turn, letting herself be wild and cruel, stoking his frustration.

She was going to win, because unlike Kiyomiya, she had no other goal.

Kiyomiya went into this match with noble intentions. He'd said that he needed to beat Nakajima because Nakajima had made the children watching Noah cry. Because he'd made Shiozaki cry, Mizuki translated.

But tonight she was Nakajima, and Nakajima had no remorse. All he could see was that belt at the end of the tunnel, glittering in the dark.

Mizuki fell into Nakajima's moveset, and she threw all other thoughts away.

Burn all your bridges; don't think of Shiozaki; don't think of Kenoh on commentary; don't think of Yuka.

It was exhilarating.

Winning like this shouldn't feel good. And yet, as Mizuki let go of Kiyomiya and climbed off his body, she felt freer than she had in ages.

"It's a shame playing the hero wasn't enough to win, Kaito Kiyomiya," she said, breathing into the mic. "You'll have to find another monster to vanquish, because I'm stronger than all of you. I've proven myself."

Mizuki gazed at the cameras with a snarling grin as she stood over the trophy. Then she saw someone approaching the ring, and her grin wavered.

Somehow, she had forgotten this part. She'd forgotten that Shiozaki would be there at the end of this match.

Mizuki turned, and Shiozaki stepped into the ring, and they met each other's eyes, and just like that, Mizuki's character slipped away from her completely.

Because this wasn't Shiozaki. It certainly looked like him, but it wasn't him. Mizuki knew this beyond a shadow of doubt, because she recognized who was here.

Yuka.

For half a second, Mizuki wondered if she had just gone crazy. Maybe she was seeing Yuka in Shiozaki's place because of the similarities in what the two of them meant to herself and Nakajima. But she could recognize Yuka anywhere, and the expression that Shiozaki wore right now was all Yuka.

Mizuki realized she was still holding a live mic. She was holding a live mic, and there was an entire crowd of people waiting for her to say something.

"Your belt," she said. "Did you bring it as a reminder? Did you think I'd forgotten who you are?"

I love you, but I also want to show that I can stand above you, and I worry all the time that I can't do both. That I can't hold both of those feelings in my heart. Nakajima couldn't.

"I'm stronger than I've ever been before," she continued. "I'm the only one who's worthy of challenging."

She felt echoes of the same emotions she'd experienced after she beat Shoko to win the Tokyo Princess Cup. Except this was Nakajima's story, not hers. And these were his emotions to feel. She reached into herself to find the confidence and cruelty that she did not have after her own tournament victory.

Yuka just stared at her, meeting her gaze and saying nothing in response. Then she turned and left the ring.

Mizuki left shortly after, walking backstage to give her post-match comments.

Her thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind. She calmed them as best as she could, trying to get back in character while she spoke to the press.

When they tried to ask her questions, she just told them she already said it in the ring. Finally, she was able to slip away.

Kenoh was waiting for her in the locker room.

"Congratulations," he said.

Mizuki acknowledged him with a look, then stepped into the shower. She hoped by the time she was finished, he'd be gone.

Sure enough, the locker room was empty when she left the shower. Mizuki breathed a long sigh of relief. She sat down on the bench and reached for her phone.

She opened Nakajima's contacts, then scrolled through them, looking for one particular name.

Go Shiozaki, where are you? she thought. Surely Nakajima had to have his number, after everything they had been to each other.

But it wasn't there. Nakajima had fucking deleted the contact.

Mizuki muttered a curse.

She called Nakajima. For once, he actually picked up.

"You did it," he said.

"Yeah, and no thanks to you," she spat. "Why didn't you tell me that Yuka and Shiozaki switched places, too?"

He was silent.

"The least you can do is give me Shiozaki's phone number, since you deleted him from your phone."

Nakajima didn't speak for a long moment. When he finally did, he just said, "Ask for it yourself," and hung up.

Mizuki calmly set the phone down, then kicked one of the lockers. She let out a strangled scream.

After she'd calmed down, she messaged Yuka on twitter. "Please call me," she said, leaving Nakajima's number.

A few minutes later, her phone rang. Mizuki answered it immediately.

"Hello?" she asked.

"Mizuki?" said the voice at the other end.

"Yuka..."

"Yeah, it's me."

Mizuki suddenly felt like crying, then, all the stress of the past couple days catching up to her all at once.

"I hate this so much, Yuka," Mizuki said, sniffling as she spoke. "I hate him so much."

"It's okay," Yuka said. "We'll get through this."

"How?" Mizuki wiped tears from her face. "You don't know what it's like, having to live his life."

She thought about Yuka swapping places with Shiozaki, and felt a rush of bitter envy course through her.

"At least you ended up switching with a decent person," Mizuki said. "And you're still a champion, too."

She didn't know why she added that last part. She just said it without thinking.

"It's not that easy," Yuka said, annoyed. "I spent this year carrying our whole company on my back, and now I have to carry a completely different one?"

"You don't have to carry it alone!" Mizuki snapped. "You've got me, right?"

Yuka sighed. "I don't want to fight with you. Not right now."

"I don't want to fight with you, either." Mizuki's tears had dried in her anger.

It occurred to her that as long as she and Yuka had to portray Nakajima and Shiozaki, they might not get to see each other in person at all.

"Can you come to my hotel room tonight?" Mizuki asked. "It might be the last time we can see each other for a long while."

"Yeah, I think I should be able to," Yuka said. "We can talk more then."

"Okay." Mizuki breathed in. "I love you. Bye."

"I love you, too."

The line went dead. Mizuki slowly lowered the phone from her ear.

She re-added Shiozaki's phone to Nakajima's contacts, then texted Yuka her room number.

Mizuki lay in bed as she waited for Yuka to arrive, feeling some lingering soreness after her match. Nakajima's body was more broken down than hers was. She wondered if he was reveling in the relative lack of pain right now, the blessing of her shorter career.

Or maybe the lack of physical pain just freed his mind up to experience a harsher emotional one.

Someone knocked at her door.

Mizuki got up to go answer it.

A wave of relief washed over her when she saw Yuka. She immediately gestured for her to come in.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Mizuki threw her arms around Yuka and embraced her. Just having her here was almost enough for Mizuki to start crying again, but she managed to hold her composure.

"Did you know that we'd switched, too?" Mizuki asked.

Yuka shook her head. "Shiozaki didn't mention it. I tried to call him after the match, but he wouldn't answer."

Mizuki frowned. "They're both bastards, then."

"I think he was under a lot of emotional strain," Yuka defended him. "Imagine having to team with your partner after he just betrayed you, and both of you have to pretend that everything's okay between you."

He let you think that Nakajima was me, and that I said those things during "our" match, Mizuki thought. And you just believed him without questioning it.

"I still would have considered the other people whose lives this affected," Mizuki said. "He was only thinking about himself."

Yuka opened her mouth to argue, then seemingly thought better of it.

There was a long moment of awkward silence between them.

"So, how did your match go tonight?" Mizuki asked, searching for an easier subject. "I wasn't able to watch it."

"It went fine. We didn't win, but I don't think anyone suspected I wasn't who I seemed to be."

"Did Shiozaki help you?"

Yuka nodded.

Mizuki fought back another rush of irrational jealousy. Why did she have to get saddled with the uncooperative one?

"I wonder if Nakajima will ever come around. I doubt it." She leaned against the bed. "He doesn't seem capable of regret, or putting other people's needs above his own."

"Well, he wrestled your match for you, didn't he?" Yuka said. "That's something."

Mizuki scoffed. "A tiny something. I won a tournament for him; he managed not to turn against my tag partner during a match that's a preview to a bigger show."

As they started to get into the conversation, things got a bit easier between them. They'd learned to stay away from the scarier subjects.

The night drew on, and Mizuki realized she was starting to get tired.

"Come over here, I want to take some selfies to send to Nakajima," she said.

Yuka shuffled closer, and Mizuki wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, raising her phone in her other hand. Yuka giggled into her neck, and Mizuki grinned, taking photo after photo, filling up Nakajima's library.

"Isn't this a little mean?" Yuka asked.

"Yes." Mizuki stuck her tongue out at the camera, snapping another picture. "But he'd do the same in my place, so I don't feel bad."

"I should probably go soon, huh?" Yuka asked, leaning on her shoulder.

Mizuki's arm around her tightened.

"Yeah," she said.

But Yuka didn't move, and Mizuki didn't ask her to.

She wasn't ready for this night to end, because she wasn't sure when they'd get to have another one. As far as the rest of the world understood, they were Nakajima and Shiozaki, ex tag partners turned bitter enemies, and they hated each other.

When Mizuki arrived back home, she sent one of the photos she'd taken to Nakajima.

He didn't respond, so she sent another one.

After the third photo, she got a phone call.

"Fuck you," Nakajima said, without any real heat behind it.

Mizuki stuck out her tongue, knowing the gesture would be completely lost on him in an audio-only conversation.

"Please tell me you didn't have sex in my body."

"What? No!" Mizuki said. "One, gross, and two, I'd never do that without permission first. We didn't even kiss."

"I'm happy for you," Nakajima said, sounding nothing of the sort.

"Those photos, that could be you, you know."

"You and I are very different people."

"Thank god," she muttered.

He laughed.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened during your Tokyo Joshi Pro match?" Mizuki asked.

"You can see it yourself."

"Tomorrow," she reminded him. "But I don't want to wait. Why don't you just tell me?"

Nakajima was quiet.

"Is it because you miss Shiozaki?" Mizuki asked. "And tagging with him again hurt because it reminded you of Axiz?"

"I'm not talking about this with you," he said. "You won't like what I have to say."

At that moment, Mizuki's phone received another call.

"Hang on," she said. "Someone else is calling me."

She moved the phone away from her ear to see who it was.

"Oh. It's Shiozaki," she said, recognizing Yuka's number. "Sorry, but I'm going to take this."

Then, for the first time, she hung up on him instead of the other way around.

"Hello?" she answered the other call.

There was a long moment of silence on the other end.

"Is this Go Shiozaki?" Mizuki asked.

After another pause, he finally spoke, wearing Yuka's voice. "Yes, sorry. This is just..."

"It's weird." Mizuki sat down, figuring this was going to be a long conversation.

"You sound like him," Shiozaki said, his voice quiet.

"Sorry."

"Okay, now you don't."

Mizuki snorted. "I suppose I don't have to complain to you about what dealing with him has been like."

Shiozaki laughed, but it sounded sad and bitter.

"I called because I thought maybe you could use some help," he said.

"Oh god yes, please," Mizuki said. It would've been nice to have that yesterday, but better late than never, I guess.

"The four of us seem to be trapped in this thing together, for better or worse."

"Do you know what caused this?" Mizuki asked. "Nakajima doesn't. Though I suppose he could've lied."

"No."

Mizuki pouted. Of course it couldn't be this easy.

"But I can tell you how things work at Noah, at least," Shiozaki said. "I can tell you about Kenoh, and about the other members of Kongoh." He paused to take a breath, the sound of it audible on the call. "I can tell you about Katsuhiko Nakajima."

The next day, Mizuki sat down to watch Nakajima's Tokyo Joshi Pro match. The opposing team entered first: Haruna, Itoh, and Miyu, looking the same as always. Then Suzume entered, flying around the ring, with Nakajima and Shiozaki right behind her.

Nakajima stepped into the ring without even glancing at his partners. He went to the corner and almost climbed up onto the turnbuckle, but reconsidered at the last minute.

Nakajima started off the match. Miyu stepped up to face him, and right from the start, there was a fire to their interactions. Nakajima utilized Mizuki's moveset with ease, attacking with speed and precision. He was a little more ruthless than her, a little more detached. Against Miyu, it didn't really stand out, because Miyu comfortably matched that style, but Mizuki did flinch when he acted that way against Itoh.

Nakajima seemed to be wrestling this match just to get it over with.

He also wasn't tagging out.

When this inevitably got him into trouble, Shiozaki swooped in quick to make the save, breaking up the first pin attempt before the count hit two. Nakajima didn't acknowledge him.

Nakajima made it back to the corner, and he tagged Suzume in instead of Shiozaki.

For a couple minutes, Nakajima and Shiozaki stood at the corner together, and Shiozaki wore that expression of deep sadness that Mizuki had seen on Yuka's face in the photos. But Nakajima still wouldn't look at him.

Suzume tagged out to Shiozaki, and he stepped into the ring, and finally, Nakajima had no choice but to look.

Mizuki couldn't read the expression on his face. Maybe it was his attempt at neutrality. He watched his old tag partner wrestle for a bit, and then Shiozaki turned toward him and reached out, and Nakajima extended his own hand, and Mizuki's breath caught as they made the tag.

Nakajima started off with the advantage against Itoh, but after Miyu teamed up with her, he quickly got outnumbered. Once again, Shiozaki came in to save him. The two of them worked briefly in tandem, and their chemistry together was immediately apparent.

Just like me and Yuka, Mizuki thought.

As the match continued, Nakajima and Shiozaki worked together more and more. Poor Suzume hardly got any time in the ring at all, but she didn't seem to mind. She stayed involved by restraining Miyu after she tried to leap to Haruna's defense.

Shiozaki got the victory with a decisive pin. He let go of Haruna and stepped off of her. Someone handed him the mic, and he lifted it to his mouth.

"We're back in Kitazawa!" he said. "Let's keep going until Tokyo Dome City Hall!" He turned to gaze at Nakajima, and then his smile faltered. "What's wrong, Mizuki?"

Nakajima looked frustrated. "I told you that I don't need you," he said. "Why'd you keep saving me? I'm strong enough on my own; I don't need your help."

"Mizuki..." Shiozaki started. There were tears on his cheek. Mizuki suspected the real reason he was crying wasn't because of this match.

"If we're going to face each other, then I want to prove that I can do this on my own without you," Nakajima said. "Maybe we can tag again after our title match, but I can't do this right now."

Then he let go of the mic and rolled out of the ring.

Shiozaki stood there alone, tasked with closing out the show while clearly in the middle of some deep emotional turmoil.

Mizuki watched as he reached inside himself and found the steady resilience of a champion.

"I don't know what happened to her," Shiozaki said. "But I guess I have to focus on our match, too. I love Mizuki, but because I do, I have to respect her wishes for our team." He closed his eyes, briefly. "I will be ready for the title match against Mizuki at Tokyo Dome City Hall on November 7."

He forgot to do the "happy happy" part at the end, but Mizuki forgave him for that.

Mizuki dialed Nakajima's number, then drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for him to pick up. She figured it was even odds he'd let it go to voicemail.

To her moderate surprise, he answered the call.

"So?" he asked.

"You did a better job with my match than I expected," Mizuki admitted.

She could hear his smug grin without needing to see it.

"Did you have to end it like that, though?" Mizuki asked. "You and Shiozaki worked so well together."

"You wanted some space, I got you some space. Trust me, it'll be easier to fight her if you aren't her partner. That has just become clearer and clearer to me the more I fight Shiozaki."

Mizuki sighed.

"You say you want to defeat her. What are you prepared to do to make that happen?" Nakajima asked.

"I..." Mizuki trailed off. She realized that she didn't have an answer. "I won't betray her." She knew that much, at least. "I won't become you."

"Think about it. Give me something to tell the press after your next match."

It took nearly a full day before Mizuki realized that she was avoiding Yuka. They'd had a number of text exchanges since the conversation in the hotel, but nothing long or substantial. She kept mulling over Nakajima's question, unable to get it out of her mind.

More and more, she kept coming back to the same answer. It wasn't a pleasant answer. It whispered to her as she worked out, as she watched old Noah matches, as she replied to text after text of Kenoh's, leaving Yuka's unread.

Finally, she got tired of thinking about it. She needed to just make a decision.

So she called Nakajima. He must've been waiting for this call, because he picked up right away.

"I think, until I beat her, maybe I need to—" Mizuki felt tears start to form, and she angrily forced them back "—maybe I need to hate her."

Nakajima was quiet on the other end.

"I love her so much, but it's so hard to love her and also want to surpass her. I can't focus on beating her if I'm always thinking about going out to eat hamburger steak with her."

"You're right," Nakajima said. "This way is easier."

"But," Mizuki said sternly, "I'm only going to hate her until we've had our match. Then I'll let myself love her again."

"You say that now..." Nakajima started.

"No," Mizuki interrupted. "I'm not changing my mind on this. If I ever feel conflicted, I'm going to look at those photos of me and Yuka that I sent you, and I'm going to remind myself that I'm not going to make your mistakes."

"Not everyone agrees that what I did was a mistake, you know."

"Who doesn't? Kenoh? And how long before you turn on him, too?"

She hated the tone of the silence that followed that question. It reminded her exactly who she was dealing with. This person who currently had control over her entire life.

"Maybe you haven't learned this lesson yet, but in this business, the only person you can ever trust is yourself," Nakajima finally answered. "I will do whatever is in my best interest at any given moment. Right now, teaming with Kongoh is in my best interest."

Mizuki knew that this was the only answer she was going to get. She didn't try to press the point.

"Oh, and one more thing: you're going to need to cry when you say it, okay?" she said. "If you're going to be me, you need to cry a lot more. I don't hide my emotions like you do."

"I don't hide my emotions."

Mizuki wished he could see the expression she was making right now.

"Well, are you capable of crying, or is that too hard for you?" she asked.

"Of course I'm capable of crying!" he snapped.

"Okay, then prove it."

After making her decision, Mizuki gave herself one last night of texting Yuka and talking to her as if everything was still normal between them. On the night of the 16th, the day before the show, Mizuki would contact her and tell her what she'd decided before Yuka could hear it from Nakajima.

But when that night arrived, Mizuki picked up her phone, but couldn't bring herself to actually call her.

Instead, she sent Yuka a photo of a pair of rabbits cuddling, captioning it: "Us."

Yuka texted her back: "I miss you."

"I miss you, too." A minute later, Mizuki added: "We'll get through this."

Yuka sent her a photo of two chickens nestled together. She captioned it: "Us."

They exchanged a few more messages, trading photos and reassuring words. But it was getting late, and Mizuki found herself yawning through the last few texts.

She sent one last message before she went to bed. Then she set her phone down and went to sleep without waiting for the reply.

"Goodnight. I love you."

The next day, Mizuki watched Nakajima watch Shiozaki make his entrance.

Nakajima didn't react to him all that differently. Once again, he seemed to avoid looking at him. Mizuki thought if she were in that ring, maybe she would've held her hands over her ears so that she didn't have to hear Yuka's theme. Even hearing it at a distance through the speakers of her computer was a painful reminder.

Slowly, Nakajima turned around. He and Shiozaki looked at each other as the referee checked both teams.

None of them shook hands with each other. Yuki was the only person who even tried.

Nodoka and Yuki nodded at Nakajima, then stepped out to wait at the corner, letting him start the match.

Rika stepped forward on the other side, saw who she was facing, then stepped back. Despite everything, Mizuki laughed. She couldn't remember if she'd thought to warn Nakajima about Rika's crush on her.

Rika turned toward Shiozaki and prompted him to get into the ring instead. When he ducked under the rope to enter, he did so with reluctance.

Nakajima and Shiozaki stared at each other for a long moment.

The two of them started to circle each other. Mizuki's heart pounded in her chest.

Shiozaki reached up, and Nakajima grabbed his hands, and the match properly began.

Right from the beginning, it was so clear that they knew each other intimately. They evaded and countered each other's moves with the precision of two people accustomed to fighting as two halves of one whole. Yuka and Mizuki's bodies were different from Shiozaki and Nakajima's, and their movesets were different, but that familiarity was still there, that gut sense awareness of the other person, that muscle memory operating at a subconscious level.

Mizuki had watched enough of Nakajima's recent matches to realize that he'd switched up his dynamic with Shiozaki for this one. She'd seen Nakajima fight him with almost a playful cruelty, refusing to give him the kind of match he wanted to have.

But here, Nakajima matched him every step of the way.

Mizuki wondered what that contrast felt like for Shiozaki. She supposed she would find out herself soon enough.

The challengers' team won the first fall, with Nodoka pinning Miu.

After the six wrestlers took a brief reprieve, the match resumed. It was a two out of three falls match. The last preview before the big title matches at Wrestle Princess on November 7.

Nodoka and Yuki got in some offense on their upcoming opponents, then Miu and Rika, then it was Nakajima and Shiozaki in the ring together again.

Mizuki could pinpoint the exact moment the tide turned against Nakajima by the look of frustrated surprise on his face. Shiozaki got the upper hand in the fight, and Nakajima had no counter, and just like that, Mizuki watched her own body crumple to the mat.

Nakajima lay sprawled at the center of the ring. Shiozaki headed for the ropes. He launched off the top rope, twisting around in midair, and then his body impacted with Nakajima's. Shiozaki moved to cover him, and the ref counted one, two, three.

Mizuki's hands curled into tight fists. It hurt, seeing Yuka's body pin her own so decisively like that, even though she had no control over the outcome.

Shiozaki rolled off of Nakajima immediately, recovering his breath a few paces away, without looking at him at all.

Nakajima got up slowly. Nodoka and Yuki checked on him at the corner, trying to reassure him. His face was turned away from the camera; Mizuki couldn't see how the loss had affected him.

First fall went to the challengers; the second to the champions. One fall left to go to decide the victor.

It was a long match, and Mizuki could tell that they were all beginning to get tired.

Whenever Nakajima wasn't in the ring, Mizuki cheered on Nodoka and Yuki as best as she could, rooting for her fellow challengers.

But at the end of the day, it wasn't enough. Rika pinned Nodoka for the final fall, winning the match for the reigning champions.

Mizuki sat back in her chair with a sigh.

She watched with disappointment as Rika, Miu, and Shiozaki closed out the show.

"I've made up my mind," Shiozaki said. "I have determination now. I will defeat Mizuki."

Rika invited everyone else back into the ring, and each of the wrestlers gave a brief statement on the upcoming show.

When Nakajima got the mic, he looked at Shiozaki, and said, "I didn't lose. I'm going to overcome you."

Looking back at him, Shiozaki said, "We're going to make it an unforgettable day."

Mizuki watched the post-match comments even though she didn't feel quite ready to hear them.

Nodoka and Yuki opened the interview, talking about their loss in the match.

Then Nakajima started to speak, and Mizuki had to force herself to watch what he was about to say.

"I was nervous about my match today, but after everything I've done to get here, I'm not going to let this opportunity slip away from me now." He took a breath. "Yuka is really strong, stronger than I'd imagined. It sucks that she pinned me so easily today. But I can't change what already happened."

He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, they were glittering with tears. Mizuki wondered what he'd thought about to summon them.

"So even though I love her," he said, his breath hitching, "I'm going to hate her so that I can surpass her."

Nodoka and Yuki objected immediately.

"You don't have to hate her!" Nodoka said.

"You're going to surpass her because you love her!" Yuki chimed in.

For a second, Nakajima's mask almost slipped, and there was a flash of emotion in his eyes that seemed realer than the tears. He reached up to angrily wipe at his face, and when he lowered his hands, the emotion was gone.

Mizuki replayed the last couple seconds of the clip.

Even here, he was frustratingly unreadable. She couldn't tell if the emotion bleeding through was devastation, or regret, or something else entirely. Maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see, searching for some sign that there was a redeemable person within him after all.

"No, I'm going to hate her," Nakajima reiterated. Belatedly, he seemed to remember Mizuki and Yuka's post-show tradition, and he added, "I'm not going to eat hamburger steak with her anymore."

"It's okay, you can eat with us," Nodoka offered.

"Really?" Nakajima asked. "Alright."

The Bakuretsu Sisters cheered.

Nakajima's smirk came out a little, despite his earlier display of tears. "We're gonna do this," he said. "We're gonna beat the champs."

Mizuki knew that she had to talk to Yuka. But she didn't want to.

It would be easy to let Nakajima take the blame for this. To point at him and say that he'd decided to say those words on his own, that they didn't reflect Mizuki's own thoughts at all. He'd gladly play the part of the villain, the grinning devil gleefully ruining Mizuki's life.

Nakajima wouldn't perform an act of kindness for her, but maybe he'd perform an act of mercy. He'd invite Yuka to hate him instead of hating Mizuki.

But Mizuki didn't want to lie to her.

So she opened up the contacts on her phone and pressed call. Then she closed her eyes and took a few breaths as she listened to it ring.

"Mizuki?" Yuka asked. "What is it?"

"Did you watch today's show?"

"Yes, of course."

There was a long pause as Yuka patiently waited for Mizuki to make her point.

Mizuki barely managed to speak. "Until we've had our match, I think maybe it's best if we—if we stop pretending that things are normal between us. I can't keep doing this, Yuka."

"Until which match? Sakazaki vs Mizuki, or Shiozaki vs Nakajima? Because one of those is a lot further away."

"I don't know!" Mizuki said. "I just—I can't do both. I can't love you and fight you at the same time."

"So you're going to fight me without loving me?"

Yes, Mizuki thought. But she didn't say it.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Yuka asked, her voice quiet.

"No!" Mizuki answered immediately. "It's just, we're already on a break because of the body swap situation, and I think it would be easier to just... commit to that break."

"Those things that Nakajima said, those were your words, weren't they? You told him to say that."

"I—" Mizuki's voice hitched with a sob. "Yes, but—"

Yuka took a breath. "So that's it, huh?"

"No! It's not it!"

"It's okay. I get it, I think."

"After all of this is over, we can try again," Mizuki said. "We can pick up where we left off before, okay? When I have to be him, I don't want you to think of me. When we have to fight, I just—can we just put everything else aside?"

There was a long moment of silence before Yuka answered.

"I understand," she said, her voice cold. "Goodbye, Mizuki. I guess I'll see you in the ring." She hung up.

The phone slipped through Mizuki's fingers, clattering to the floor, and she just buried her face in her hands and let herself hopelessly sob.

Eventually, Mizuki pulled herself together enough to get up and make dinner. Nakajima called her as she was sitting down to eat it.

She answered the call, putting him on speakerphone.

"Why are you all like this?" Nakajima asked.

"Like what?"

"Everyone at Tokyo Joshi Pro. I said all that about Sakazaki, and then the Bakuretsu Sisters took me out to dinner, and they spent a long time trying to cheer me up, then just chatted aimlessly about all the things they were going to do once they became champs. Do any of you ever take anything seriously? It's like they couldn't believe that you're capable of genuinely hating someone."

"I don't genuinely hate Yuka!" Mizuki objected. "And they were just trying to be supportive. All of us are rivals, but we're friends, too."

She missed them so much. In the pain of everything going on with Yuka, she hadn't been able to grieve the hurt of getting cut off from everyone else, too.

"If Rika flirts with you, though, don't encourage her," Mizuki said, remembering their match. "I don't want her to think she has a chance with me."

"I thought she was acting a little weird while we were making out," Nakajima said.

"Wait, you didn't—" she reacted in horror.

"Of course I didn't!" he said. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

Angry at him once again, Mizuki let her silence speak for itself.

She ate a couple bites of food, then said, "Your friends are weird, by the way. Kenoh came up to me after the N-1 finals and told me 'congratulations,' and I legitimately couldn't tell if he actually meant it. I asked Shiozaki, and he didn't know either."

"Go doesn't understand Kenoh." Nakajima laughed. "If he did, a lot of things would make sense to him."

"What do you mean by that?" Mizuki asked.

She sighed as he characteristically dodged the question.

"Did you talk to Yuka?" he asked.

Mizuki groaned. "Yes. But I don't want to think about it." She picked at the food in her bowl.

"You made the right decision."

Mizuki made a face. "Hearing that from you makes me think I didn't."

But it was too late for her to turn back now. She'd chosen her path. Now she had to walk it.

A week later, Mizuki wrestled her second Noah match. Each morning leading up to it, she kept hoping that she'd somehow wake up back in her own bed in her own body, but of course the universe couldn't be that kind.

At least she managed to arrive at the venue on time. A little early, even.

She hung around Kongoh, though she kept to the periphery. Mostly they didn't attempt to engage with her, and she didn't attempt to engage with them. Kitamiya seemed especially cold toward her, but she was more than happy to leave him alone. Nakajima had so much history with so many people, and so many enemies.

Ten minutes before their match, Mizuki ran into Yuka in the hallway.

Mizuki glanced at her for only a brief moment as they brushed past each other. Then she put on Nakajima's mask and pulled up his hood and let go of everything else.

When she next saw Yuka, they stood across the ring from each other. And this time, Mizuki couldn't look away.

They stared at each other, circling around one another.

Yuka looked at her like she was trying to see into her heart, but Mizuki just gave her Nakajima's grin.

This is easy, Mizuki thought, hearing the sound of her kicks against Yuka's body ring out in the quiet arena. Wearing his face like this is easy.

It was easier to face Yuka like this than it was to face her as herself.

As Nakajima, Mizuki could be cruel. She could cut out the part of herself who cared.

Yuka didn't have that luxury. She and Shiozaki shared the same hurt.

A handful of minutes slipped by. Noah matches tended to go longer than what Mizuki was accustomed to; she needed to pace herself.

Inamura was in the ring, representing Kongoh. Mizuki thought perhaps she liked him the best out of everyone in the faction. Something about him seemed really earnest in a way that the others weren't. Naturally, this meant that Nakajima probably wouldn't hang out with him, which meant that she couldn't, either.

Yuka's elbow slammed into Inamura's face, and he went down.

At the same moment, Yuka turned around, and she saw Mizuki standing there at the corner, and stopped moving completely.

She stood there frozen in place for a long, lingering moment, her eyes fixed on Mizuki's. Then, slowly, she walked away. She reached down to deal with Inamura, resuming their fight.

The match continued. It felt shorter than its length demanded.

After she got tagged back in, Mizuki knew there was one thing that Nakajima wouldn't be able to resist doing.

She shoved her feet into Kiyomiya's face in the corner, grinning into the camera.

Okay, this is kind of fun, she thought. It was hard to hate Yuka, but she didn't mind hating Kiyomiya.

But of course, it always had to go back to Yuka.

Yuka and Kenoh were in the ring together. Then Kenoh was walking over to her, and Mizuki knew this part. She knew what had to happen next.

She slid into the ring and got in position at Yuka's other side. Yuka stared at her, then turned around, facing toward Kenoh instead.

Summoning her strength, Mizuki kicked her.

Then Kenoh kicked Yuka in the chest.

Mizuki kicked her again.

Then Kenoh, then Mizuki. Again and again.

Yuka stumbled in place between them, teetering back and forth as each kick struck her body.

When Nakajima and Shiozaki had been together, they'd had a move called Endless Love. In Endless Love, the two of them stood on opposite sides of their opponent, raining down kicks and chops from both sides. Shiozaki had described each kick and chop as "love."

If that move was Endless Love, Mizuki wondered if this one was Endless Hate.

Kick after kick, with Shiozaki suspended helplessly between them, caught between the love of his life and the person his partner had betrayed him to join.

Mizuki didn't think the move hurt any less for Yuka.

But even still, the match wasn't over yet.

It was just Yuka and Inamura in the ring now. Mizuki sat on the floor outside in the shadows.

The conclusion felt foredoomed. Yuka was in top form, fighting with a single-minded determination that Mizuki rarely saw from her. Inamura never stood a chance. Yuka's lariat took him completely out.

She pinned him very decisively with her gaze fixed on Mizuki the entire time.

Yuka stood up, and the referee handed her belt to her. Her eyes never left Mizuki.

Mizuki got up and rolled into the ring. She walked over to Yuka, but stopped just short of pressing their foreheads together. Then, without a word, she turned and rolled out of the ring.

Yuka called after her as she started to walk away. "Nakajima!"

Mizuki turned around.

"I am the GHC Champion!" Yuka said. "I am NOAH!"

She sounded just like him. The two of them probably worked together before each match to help the other person figure out what to say, and how to say it.

The anger in her voice sounded very real, though. Mizuki tried not to think about that. This was so much easier if she could pretend that all the bad feelings came from Nakajima and Shiozaki and not from herself and Yuka.

The interviewer asked: "How was the fight with Nakajima?"

"Honestly, even though he won the N-1, I don't think he knows what he wants to do," Yuka answered.

"Do you feel any change in Nakajima since he won the N-1?"

Yuka almost laughed a little, but she caught herself. "No. Katsuhiko Nakajima is still Katsuhiko Nakajima. I don't feel any change in him personally."

"What do you think of the GHC Heavyweight title match for this belt?"

"Y'know, that's the feeling I don't get from him," she said. "He can go ahead and keep saying nothing if he wants, but if he doesn't have a real reason to win, he'll never reach the GHC."

"How will you win? What is your ideal way to defeat him?"

Yuka looked directly into the camera, and Mizuki flinched away. "I will crush Katsuhiko Nakajima with my anger," Yuka said. "That's all I'm thinking about. That smirk of his... I'll erase that smile in the ring. I'll erase it completely."

Mizuki called Nakajima before she went to bed. She didn't really want to talk to him, but she needed to talk to someone, and he was the only option.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I just thought you'd like to hear how the show went, since you won't be able to watch it until the VOD goes up in a few days," she said.

He listened as she described everything that happened as best as she could remember.

"Wait, what's Endless Hate?" he interrupted.

"That version of Endless Love that you do with Kenoh," she clarified.

"It's not called Endless Hate."

"Then what is it called?"

"It doesn't have a name."

"Well, I'm going to call it Endless Hate until you come up with something better," Mizuki said.

Nakajima sighed. "Just don't call it that on record."

Mizuki considered threatening to do exactly that the next time he caused trouble for her.

When Mizuki was back in Tokyo, she got a text from Shiozaki asking if she wanted to grab coffee with him. She accepted gratefully.

He was waiting for her at the cafe when she arrived.

Mizuki stopped walking when she glimpsed him, staring at the back of his head. He turned around, and as soon as he saw her, he froze, too.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

It was hard, looking at someone who wore Yuka's face and remembering that it wasn't her. She imagined it must be unimaginably more difficult for Shiozaki to look at someone who wore Nakajima's face.

Mizuki walked over to him. His gaze followed her every movement, almost spellbound.

"Hey," Mizuki said.

"This is weird, isn't it?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I'm going to get some coffee, okay?" she said.

A few minutes later, the two of them settled down at a table together, sitting across from each other.

"Does Yuka know you're here?" Mizuki asked.

Shiozaki shook his head. "But I won't lie to her if she asks."

Mizuki laughed, realizing a little too late that it sounded slightly crazed. "Wouldn't that be nice," she said. "If the person wearing my body wouldn't lie to me."

Shiozaki just sort of smiled at her sympathetically.

"This is good, though. I forgot what it's like to have normal interactions with people," Mizuki said. "Everyone at Noah either hates my guts, or is a weirdly intense person that Nakajima won't trust."

"Yeah, he did sort of get himself into that situation."

"Meanwhile, he got to have dinner with the Bakuretsu Sisters," Mizuki bemoaned. "I'm so jealous."

The conversation quieted for a moment as the two of them sipped their coffees.

"I miss my friends," Mizuki said. "I miss having any friends at all, actually."

"How are things going for you at Noah?" Shiozaki asked.

Mizuki shrugged. "They're alright. I'm scared whenever I have to interact with anyone, and I constantly feel like I'm completely alone, but I think I'm doing okay."

"You've done a good job portraying him so far."

"I can't tell if that's a compliment or not," she said dryly.

They talked for a while, comparing their experiences with the two promotions, and lamenting the things that they missed about their home companies.

Eventually, Mizuki was down to her last few sips of coffee.

"Is Yuka mad at me?" she asked hesitantly. "She sounded pretty angry in the ring and during her interview afterward."

"It's easier to be angry than it is to be upset," Shiozaki said, the bitterness in his tone suggesting that he spoke from experience.

"Is there any way I can get her to be... not upset with me?" Mizuki asked, wincing a little.

Shiozaki just looked at her.

"Besides, y'know, apologizing for everything I said and taking it all back," she said.

"What do you think?"

Mizuki sighed. "I wish I could, but I can't. Not yet."

"Love can only go so far, you know. At a certain point, you pass a threshold that's very hard to come back from."

Mizuki thought about matching gold and black gear and a certain brainbuster.

"Do you still love Nakajima?" she asked.

"I think some part of me always will," he admitted. "You can't love someone like that and then just let go of them completely."

Mizuki sipped the last bit of her coffee. She set the cup down on the table.

"Hey, can you do me a favor?" she asked. "If things with Yuka ever get too close to that threshold, can you tell me before I ruin it forever?"

"I can try." He looked at her with pity.

She almost asked him for a hug before she left, but worried it might be too weird.

On the 28th of October, Mizuki had another Noah match. By now, she knew the drill. She arrived at the venue, trained beforehand with the rest of Kongoh, and didn't speak to anyone else. She and Yuka were even in the same room at one point, but both of them were fully committed to ignoring each other.

Of course, things in the ring were different. Once the match started, Mizuki stepped forward, and she gestured for Yuka to face her. Yuka turned around and pushed her teammates toward the corner, then it was just the two of them.

Yuka reached for Mizuki's hand, but Mizuki evaded her grasp and kicked her instead.

When they finally locked up, Yuka backed Mizuki into the ropes, then after the referee forced the break, Mizuki turned them around and backed Yuka into the ropes. They stared at each other as the referee started to count. Mizuki gave her Nakajima's grin, and she saw that flash of anger return to Yuka's eyes.

Their next exchange was a little more heated; the hits a little harder.

Mizuki and Yuka ended up back at their opposite corners, and Mizuki took the coward's way out. She tagged Inamura, then slipped out of the ring. When she turned back around, Yuka looked almost sad.

Do you want to fight me or not? Mizuki wondered. She climbed back up onto the apron and watched Inamura face off against Kiyomiya. Inamura held his own against him, and Mizuki felt proud.

A few minutes later, Mizuki got tagged back in. Once again, she faced Yuka.

Mizuki got her into the corner, and she knew what she had to do. Or, well, she knew what Nakajima would do. She grabbed onto the ropes and shoved Yuka's head into the turnbuckle with her feet as she stared into the camera.

Shutter Chance, she thought, mentally scoffing at it. What a ridiculous name. She stared down at Yuka for a brief moment, then switched to the other side of the corner. I'm sorry, Yuka. I wish he wasn't like this.

She'd played with her too much. When Yuka recovered, they got into an exchange of strikes, hitting a series of chops and kicks on each other, and each one stung more than the last.

Do these chops and kicks still represent "love" now, even with no one between us? Mizuki wondered.

It was hard to think about love when each hit hurt.

The match continued after Mizuki and Yuka both tagged out, but ultimately they couldn't leave each other alone.

Nearing the twenty minute mark, Mizuki fought Yuka outside the ring as Kiyomiya and Kenoh faced off within it. Mizuki wasn't even paying attention to whatever was happening behind her. She didn't even care who won. Her entire attention was focused on Yuka, who was desperately struggling to get the upper hand against her as they slugged it out in the shadows, crashing against the barricades.

Was this truly how Shiozaki and Nakajima would fight, or were they just using them as an excuse?

Outside of the camera's focus, the look on Yuka's face right now seemed to be all her, with none of Shiozaki in her expression. She looked truly angry, almost enough for Mizuki's smirk to slip, but she clung to it desperately, knowing that if she lost character here, she'd never get it back.

Mizuki missed the finish of the match entirely. She only knew it was over when she heard Kiyomiya's music start to play. She turned just in time to see him react in excitement to his victory, Kenoh laid out at his feet.

Then Yuka hit her again, and Mizuki retaliated, and the two of them fought for a little longer until Mizuki finally just threw Yuka into the ring and rolled in after her. Mizuki walked up to Yuka and got right in her face with a grin, then she turned and left, slipping out of the ring and heading backstage. She evaded the interviewers and went straight for the locker room.

Once inside, she checked that she was alone, then sat down on one of the benches and took some deep breaths until she calmed herself down.

It took a toll on her, not only fighting in all these matches, but having to put on someone else's face and fight Yuka with pretend emotions that were starting to become a little more real.

The door opened and someone else entered the locker room. Mizuki turned, facing away for a moment as she recollected herself, then she stood up and headed for the showers.

The first post-match interview Mizuki watched was Kenoh's, where he unsurprisingly railed against Kiyomiya for several minutes. Typical.

Then Mizuki saw an interview from... Kiyomiya and Inamura?

"What?" she exclaimed.

She played the clip, then watched in disbelief as Inamura said, "I have been with Kongoh for a long time, but I couldn't get results. I am insanely grateful to have been able to fight with and learn from Kongoh, but I want to go to a higher stage."

The two of them shook hands, and then Kiyomiya spoke for a bit. He ended with: "We will do this together, although we might not always get along. Let's each aim at the top!"

Mizuki stared in shock for a long moment.

"No! I actually liked him!" she despaired.

Mizuki had to rewatch the end of the match, after that. Clearly something important had happened after she'd left the ring.

She tore her eyes away from herself and Yuka fighting in the footage, focusing on Kiyomiya and Kenoh instead. She watched Kiyomiya hit the Tiger Suplex and get the win, and not long after, Mizuki brought Yuka into the ring, butted heads with her, and left just like that.

Kenoh was still on his back. Inamura went to check on him, and Mizuki realized in horror that it hadn't even occurred to her to check if he was okay after the match. Her single-minded focus only had eyes for Yuka.

Nakajima probably would've left just like she did, but she wasn't him. She was supposed to be better than this. She could have found a way to check on Kenoh later, at least.

But she hadn't.

She watched on as Inamura took care of Kenoh, helping him even while planning to leave Kongoh shortly after.

Then Kiyomiya went to exit the ring, but Inamura stopped him. They exchanged words, and Kiyomiya extended a hand. Inamura looked at Kenoh and bowed to him before he left. Respectful to the very end.

Mizuki paused the video, feeling a cold pit in her stomach.

The next evening, Mizuki's phone rang, but just as she went to answer it, she saw that it was Kenoh's number and not Nakajima's. She let out a squeak and nearly dropped the phone.

She let the call go to voicemail, staring at it in wide-eyed alarm.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then her phone lit up with a text. It was from Kenoh. She went to send it to Nakajima, but just as she did, she received another text from Kenoh, and then another, and another.

Worried that Kenoh was going to try to call her again, Mizuki called Nakajima.

"He's texting me too fast for me to send them to you," she said, panicking.

"Yeah, he double-texts a lot when he's angry."

"When is he not angry?"

Nakajima laughed.

"Okay, I'm just going to read these out loud to you," Mizuki said.

For the next few minutes, she read out Kenoh's texts to Nakajima over the phone, and he told her what to type in response.

K: That feathered fucker

K: Dumbass arrogant kid

K: Too big for his britches Kaito Kiyomiya

N: Why are you telling me this

K: He's like this because he listens to fucking Shiozaki

K: Never thinks for himself

K: When did you figure out that Shiozaki isn't worth shit?

N: I always knew

K: Why'd you fucking team with him for so long, then?

(Nakajima: "Don't respond to that.")

K: Is that what love does to you?

N: It was a false love

K: Fucking knew it. You were just after the belts, huh?

"You can go ahead and leave that last one on read," Nakajima told her.

Mizuki sighed in relief, falling back onto the bed, her arms spread wide.

"Did you mean what you told him, about your love for Shiozaki being a false one?" she asked, after she'd had a moment to catch her breath.

He was silent on the other end.

Mizuki pouted. "C'mon, what do you have to lose by telling me? I won't tell anyone else if you don't want me to. I can keep a secret."

"It doesn't matter now, does it?" Nakajima said. "It's over."

"If you don't answer, then I'm going to assume that you did love him, and you just don't want to admit it." She turned onto her side, propping herself up on her elbow.

"Assume whatever you want. I don't care."

"What do you think about Inamura leaving Kongoh, then?" she asked, switching to a different subject.

"I don't have an opinion."

"You're no fun," she grumbled.

In the days leading up to the next show, Mizuki didn't really do much besides train and work out, trying to keep herself occupied. Her thoughts kept returning to the upcoming date of November 7, now a week away. If she and Nakajima didn't switch back before then, he would be wrestling her title match at Wrestle Princess.

Mizuki tried to investigate anything that could have possibly caused them to swap bodies, hoping to find a solution. But there was nothing. Not a single sign of any process that could have resulted in this.

"Do you think that one of the four of us could have made a wish without realizing it?" she asked Nakajima.

"Why would any of us have any reason to want this?"

"I don't know," she said. "I just don't see what else could have caused it. Unless you have some enemy who'd want this to happen? But no one has acted particularly oddly around me. They all seem to think I'm you."

"I don't suppose you have any enemies?"

"I don't know anyone who'd do this," Mizuki said. "Well, Sakisama, perhaps, but she hasn't been around in almost a year, and I don't know why she'd care."

"Maybe it's punishment for CyberAgent buying Noah."

Mizuki snorted. "Who are you, Kenoh?"

He didn't laugh, but she thought she could hear him grinning.

"Well, if it is that, there's not really anything we can do about it." Mizuki sighed. "Back to square one, I guess."

Mizuki texted Nakajima while she traveled to the November 3 show in Shizuoka.

"Is there anything in particular you want me to do in your next match?" she asked.

"Go harder on Sakazaki," he replied.

"Oh, come on. I've targeted her every time. I've done all your special moves on her. I've started every match by fighting her. Isn't that enough?"

"You need to focus more on her arms. That's what I'd do. Take out her arms, and she can't chop you," he said.

"Her elbows look pretty bad, though. I don't want to hurt her."

"Shiozaki's fought through worse."

Mizuki suppressed a sigh. Even if that was true, she didn't want to do more damage to Yuka than she had already done. Escalating things right before their scheduled title match seemed like a bad idea. What if they switched back right before the match, and their last encounter involved Mizuki attempting to brutally take apart Yuka's arm? How could she expect Yuka to just forgive her after that?

But if she wanted Nakajima to wrestle her matches the way she wanted him to, then she had to wrestle his matches the way he wanted her to. She was well aware that whatever they had between them wasn't a real friendship.

Since this was the last show before Wrestle Princess, it felt especially important for Mizuki to perform well in it.

She thought about that as she put on Nakajima's gear before the match.

"What are you willing to do?" Mizuki had asked herself that question over and over. What was she willing to do to defeat Yuka? What was she willing to do to keep her? Could she hurt Yuka now to save her from hurt later?

Guess I'll figure it out in the ring, Mizuki decided.

Not long afterward, she was walking out to Kenoh's music. She hopped up to perch on the turnbuckle as the rest of Kongoh posed in the middle of the ring.

Shiozaki's music started. When Yuka entered the ring, belt in hand, her eyes stayed on Mizuki and didn't leave.

Mizuki stepped forward, pushing the other members of Kongoh back. She held up her hand and gestured for Yuka to come forward, too.

Yuka clasped Kiyomiya reassuringly on the shoulders and gently moved him aside. The other eight wrestlers in the ring got out of the way, leaving just the two of them standing across from each other.

The match began how all of them began. Mizuki and Yuka stared at each other and circled around each other.

Yuka reached for her hand, but Mizuki just kicked her in the leg instead. None of her kicks deterred Yuka.

Mizuki wondered if Nakajima enjoyed these slow starts. If he savored the look on Shiozaki's face while they fought. Mizuki hated to see Yuka looking at her like this, sad and angry and hurt.

The two of them lunged at each other, and Mizuki ducked under Yuka's arms and made it back to the blue corner, where she quickly tagged out to Kenoh. Then, with a glance back, Mizuki rolled out of the ring and stood for a bit on the outside, facing away from Yuka. She heard Yuka make a tag, but didn't see who she'd tagged in.

Several minutes passed relatively uneventfully.

Then Kongoh saw an opportunity. Everyone clambered into the ring to attack Kotoge, and Mizuki took advantage of the chaos to run across and strike Yuka. Yuka fell off the apron, and Mizuki stepped through the ropes and hopped down to fight her.

She slammed Yuka into the barricades, hearing the clatter of metal.

Yuka stared up at her with an unreadable expression.

"You need to focus more on her arms," Nakajima had said.

Mizuki reached out and grabbed Yuka's arm. Yuka started to resist, trying to pull away from her.

Mizuki wrenched up on the arm a little, and she watched Yuka's face twist into a grimace.

Oh god, she's wearing so much tape, Mizuki thought. It was all over Yuka's arms and the back of her shoulders. No wonder this hurts.

She took Yuka's arm and started to bend it over the barricade.

At that moment, Mizuki hesitated. Was this going too far? But she couldn't afford to start thinking like that. She couldn't turn back now, not yet. It didn't matter if this was going too far for Mizuki; it wasn't for Nakajima.

Mizuki bent Yuka's arm over the iron and kicked it.

She couldn't see the expression of pain on Yuka's face because Yuka turned her head fully away from her.

The next time Mizuki stood in the ring, she fought Kotoge.

She didn't know all that much about him, but she knew that he and Shiozaki had once been tag partners. That made him as good a target as any.

Kotoge had already taken a lot of damage, and when Mizuki got him to the corner, he went down easily. She grabbed onto the ropes and shoved his head into the corner with her feet, smirking at the fan cameras. Halfway through the Shutter Chance, Mizuki took a break to knock Yuka off the other corner. Then she went back to tormenting Kotoge.

Behind her, she could hear Yuka trying to save him, but the ref wouldn't let her through.

She fought Kotoge a little longer, then tagged out to Kenoh.

Throughout the match, Mizuki and Yuka kept finding opportunities to fight each other. Mizuki always kept an eye on her, looking for a moment to strike, or anticipating Yuka's attacks.

Just past the fifteen minute mark, as Kenoh and Kiyomiya wrestled in the ring, Yuka came across to knock Mizuki down from the apron with her elbow, then clutched her arm and winced in pain. She chopped Mizuki, grimacing at the impact.

Nakajima had told Mizuki that if she took out Yuka's arms, Yuka wouldn't be able to chop her, but he was wrong; it didn't stop her at all. All it did was ensure that every time Yuka chopped her, it hurt Yuka, too.

Back in the ring, Mizuki kicked Yuka several times, but Yuka answered her kicks with a series of chops. They didn't hurt any less than they had in the previous match.

Yuka went down, and Mizuki moved to cover her, but Yuka kicked out before three. When Mizuki glanced up, Kenoh was there.

Mizuki got to her feet. Yuka slowly stumbled upright. She turned away from Mizuki, then Kenoh kicked her in the chest, and Mizuki kicked her in the back, then Kenoh again, then Mizuki.

Mizuki didn't blame Yuka for wanting to face away from her during this move. If Yuka couldn't escape Endless Hate, at least she didn't have to look at the person she loved while she endured it.

Then Kenoh was gone, and it was just the two of them again.

Mizuki kicked Yuka's arm, and Yuka let out a yell of pain, and Mizuki instantly regretted it, that kick. She didn't have to do that. But she'd gotten caught up in the moment, and she'd reacted without thinking.

Mizuki tagged out, but Yuka stayed in the ring and fought Nioh.

A couple minutes later, Mizuki could tell that it was about to end. She tried to throw herself into the ring to break up the pin, but Kotoge's arms wrapped tight around her leg, holding her down, and she couldn't kick free of him.

She could only watch on and struggle helplessly as the referee counted to three, and then the bell rang, awarding Yuka the victory.

Mizuki just sat down in the corner, staring at her. Yuka slowly turned around and gazed at her back. Both of them got to their feet and they stepped close to each other, but didn't quite touch.

Mizuki noticed, then, that Yuka was limping. She tried not to think about that as she turned and rolled out of the ring, heading backstage.

I did what I had to do, she thought, trying to reassure herself. She almost picked up her phone and called Nakajima, wanting the assurance that she had done the right thing, but then she asked herself, Why am I even trusting his moral compass?

It didn't take long before a dawning sense of horror set into her. The feeling didn't leave.

That night, as Mizuki lay in bed, relentlessly tossing and turning, unable to get to sleep, she received a phone call.

Only one person would call her this late.

"What is it?" she asked.

"You didn't tell me what happened in your match," Nakajima said.

Mizuki had forgotten it was a VOD show.

She sat up, leaning back against the headboard. It took her a long moment before she could answer.

"I did what you told me to do," she said. "I hurt her. I hurt Yuka."

She took a breath.

"Shiozaki's body... it's not in good condition, is it?" Mizuki asked. Neither Yuka nor Shiozaki himself had been honest to her about that.

"He doesn't like to be talked about like that," Nakajima said quietly. "He wouldn't want you to go easy on him."

"There's a difference between going easy on someone and deliberately worsening an injury that they already have. Why go after his arms so much?"

"Because that's how you win."

"No, that's how you shorten someone's career. It's horrific, actually."

Nakajima didn't offer an argument.

Mizuki made a face of disgust. "Y'know, pretending to be you, I've made a lot of excuses to myself to justify some of the things you've done, but you're really just a bad person, aren't you? You truly don't care about anything other than yourself. You don't care about Shiozaki, you don't care about me, and you don't even care about Kenoh, even though you're supposed to be on his team."

"Mizuki—" he started, but she hung up before he could finish whatever he had to say.

Nakajima called her several times the following day. She ignored every single one of them. Taste of your own medicine, she thought spitefully.

She was aware that Wrestle Princess was in just three days. She was trying her utmost to forget this fact.

Mizuki didn't want to think about Nakajima fighting Shiozaki under her name and beating him because he hated him. Even worse was the thought of Nakajima fighting Shiozaki with only hate in his heart and losing anyway, leaving Mizuki with absolutely nothing. No belt, and no relationship with Yuka left to try and repair.

Any outcome she could imagine was a bad one.

The best she could hope for was to somehow wake up back in her own body again on the 7th. Then she could fight Yuka in the match that she actually wanted to have, and afterward, she could apologize to her and tell her she loved her, and even if Yuka didn't forgive her, Mizuki wouldn't have to hurt her anymore.

But Mizuki knew better than to hope for anything.

That night, she found Nakajima's most expensive alcohol and got very, very drunk.

On November 5th, two days before Wrestle Princess, Mizuki woke up with a raging headache, still stuck in Nakajima's body, and she knew that nothing she could do was going to change this fact.

So she decided she was done being miserable.

She'd wrestled three of Nakajima's matches the way he'd wanted her to wrestle them. Now it was his turn to do the same for her.

But when Mizuki finally grit her teeth and called him, he didn't even fucking answer.

She fell facedown onto the bed and let out a muffled scream.

Fine. If he was going to be like this, then Mizuki would have this conversation with him in a place where neither of them could avoid it.

The next day, Mizuki left Nakajima's apartment and traveled to an address that she knew very well. She covered up her face and her hair as much as she could, not wanting to be recognized. Best not to accidentally start some weird rumors.

She stood outside of a familiar apartment.

It felt weird to knock instead of reaching for her keys to let herself in. She half doubted he'd even answer the door.

But just when she was about to give up, the door swung open.

They stared at each other for a very long time.

As weird as it had been seeing Shiozaki and Yuka in each other's bodies, nothing compared to the weirdness of looking at someone else wearing her own face.

Nakajima blinked, snapping out of it before she did. He stepped back and ushered her into the apartment.

"I suppose you came to yell at me some more?" he asked flatly, after the door closed.

Mizuki gazed around her at her own apartment, feeling relieved to see it again.

"No, I came to say I'm sorry," she said. "Well, a bit sorry. I'm still mad at you, but—" she sighed. "Clearly you do care at least a little about me. Otherwise you wouldn't have done what you've already done."

She walked into her own kitchen to pour herself a glass of water.

"And I think you still care at least a little about Shiozaki, too," she continued.

Nakajima was staring at her. It was bizarre, seeing his expressions on her own face. She supposed it was equally bizarre for him.

"I wouldn't have shown up to talk to you in person if you'd just answered my call yesterday," Mizuki said.

"Sorry, I was at dinner."

"With who? Nodoka and Yuki again?"

"No. This time it was Raku. A lot of folks on the roster have been wanting to hang out with me."

"Stop blowing all my money on restaurant food!" Mizuki scolded. She neglected to mention what had happened to his stash of expensive liquor.

Nakajima rolled his eyes. "They're all worried about you being lonely before your match, and they wanted to give you encouragement. You want me to turn that down?"

Mizuki sat down on her couch. "What did Raku have to say to you?" she asked, curious.

Nakajima sat at the other end of the couch. "Well, she said that since you're the first wrestler she ever became fond of, she wanted to tell you that she supports you in your championship match and believes that you'll win. But she's kind of quiet, so I had to carry a lot of the conversation."

"Aw, that's sweet of her."

"She mentioned her own recent title match where she tagged with Itoh, and I fucking completely forgot that you and Itoh used to team. Thought that would give me away for sure."

Mizuki put her face in her hands.

He continued. "But then she started talking about some train she saw that day, and at some point I think it became a long metaphor about how it means I'll have good fortune in my match?"

"Really? What train was it?" Mizuki asked, turning to look at him.

"Fuck if I know. I stopped paying attention as soon as I realized she hadn't noticed my slip-up earlier."

Mizuki lightly punched him in the arm, and he glared at her.

"What did you come to say to me, anyway?" he asked.

It took Mizuki a minute to answer. She stared at the wall across from her, trying to formulate her thoughts.

"Shiozaki's still in love with you, you know," she finally said.

Nakajima scoffed. "Of course I know that. He makes it really obvious every time he looks at me. I'm counting on that to win."

Mizuki started to object, but Nakajima interrupted her. "It's just as you said. I said it for you after the last match: I will hate him so that I can surpass him."

"Well, I was wrong!" Mizuki said. "And so were you. He's loved you the entire time he's held that belt, and it's made him stronger, not weaker. Even if you're right and hurting him here weakens him enough for you to win, what then? What are you going to do afterward, when you have the belt and you have to defend it? Who will help you carry that burden? You've seen what it's done to him. He needs you. Not to win, but to help him keep going, and support him when he falls."

"Maybe taking the belt away from him is the best way to help him, have you considered that?" Nakajima snapped.

"Then do it for that reason! Do it because you want to show him that the two of you can stand as equals, and that you can help carry the company, too. He doesn't have to bear that burden all by himself."

"I don't give a fuck what happens to the company."

Mizuki let out a frustrated sigh. "But Shiozaki does care! He'll care regardless of who holds what belt. But if the title is held by someone he loves, someone he can trust, that'll free him from worrying."

Nakajima laughed bitterly. "You really think he'll ever be able to trust me again, after everything? It's over, Mizuki. Axiz is over."

"I think you should at least try," she said. "Do it for my match with Yuka, at least. Even if you truly hate him, for just that one match, I want you to love him. You know what that feels like. You've felt it before. Draw on those feelings instead of your hate."

"You're asking me to lose your big title match for you."

"Then so be it. I'd rather lose because of love than win because of hate. If you do this for me, then I'll wrestle your match against Shiozaki however you want me to."

"You'll hate Yuka for me? Truly hate her?" Nakajima stared at her as he asked.

"If it's just for one night, yes." She met his gaze firmly.

After a long moment, he just said, "Fine," and looked away.

Mizuki exhaled.

The two of them sat in silence for a couple minutes. Mizuki glanced around the room, taking in all the little changes that had occurred to her apartment since the last time she was here. Things in different places, a magazine she didn't remember buying, some makeup on the table instead of in the bathroom where it belonged.

"God, I miss my apartment," Mizuki said. "I'm tempted to stay here tonight and make you sleep on the futon. I miss my own bed."

"You really want me to go into your big title match tomorrow already sore from sleeping on the futon?" Nakajima asked.

"No," Mizuki said grudgingly.

He laughed softly. The kind of laugh that probably wouldn't get picked up on a phone call. It humanized him a little.

She hoped she'd still be able to believe in him after tomorrow.

Tokyo Dome City Hall was a gorgeous venue. Mizuki kept getting lost in the mere presence of it, the grandiose elegance of the stage in front of her. She desperately wanted to be in that ring, but instead she was one among many in the crowd, watching from afar, trying her hardest not to cry before the show even began.

She'd seen all the photos of the Tokyo Joshi Pro roster checking out the venue leading up to the show. Everyone's expressions were so full of excitement and wonder. There was even a picture of Nakajima and Shiozaki together, and they both looked happy just to be there, though they also weren't quite looking at each other.

Mizuki felt so proud of everyone for putting on this show, Tokyo Joshi Pro's biggest yet. And she couldn't even be in it.

But as bad as she felt, Yuka probably felt even worse. Yuka had been with the company since the beginning, and now she had to watch someone else carry her belt and represent Tokyo Joshi Pro Wrestling when it should be her out there, walking out to her music in the biggest match of her career.

Throughout the show, Mizuki had to stop herself from looking over the crowd, trying to spot Yuka. She had to be here. Neither one of them could miss this.

Whenever Mizuki started tearing up, she wondered if Yuka was crying, too. Just two spectators among many, sharing a quiet moment of solidarity that no one else would understand.

Mizuki wished they could have sat together. They could have held each other's hand and comforted each other. But as long as they were Nakajima and Shiozaki, they had to be apart.

During the semi-main event, she felt so nervous, she could hardly cheer on her friends.

She texted Nakajima: "Good luck."

He replied with: "😏"

Mizuki laughed despite herself.

Then she watched as Yuki pinned Miu, and she almost jumped out of her seat in excitement. The Bakuretsu Sisters had become champions at long last. They cried as they received the belts, fastening them around each other's waist.

Maybe Nakajima can do it, too, Mizuki thought. We can win this.

The video package before her match began playing. Mizuki started crying almost immediately. Most of the video was her and Yuka, but the last part was Nakajima and Shiozaki.

Then her music hit, and she stopped breathing for a moment. Hearing it ring out in the arena, thrumming through her body, it felt surreal to be watching from the crowd and not from behind the curtains.

Nakajima walked out into the swirling fog and flashing lights.

He made his way into the ring, and Namba announced Mizuki's name. Nakajima removed the outer layer of his gear, then he turned around as Shiozaki made his entrance.

Nakajima kept his eyes on Shiozaki the entire time. When Shiozaki walked forward and held out his hand, Nakajima stepped forward to meet him. They shook hands, and Mizuki's heart started pounding in her chest.

The match began.

Nakajima and Shiozaki stared at each other. The crowd started to clap, and Mizuki joined in.

They stared at each other for several long minutes. Longer than Mizuki would have stared at Yuka, had she been in that ring. It seemed almost like they were each waiting for the other to make the first move, or perhaps daring the other to move first.

Then Shiozaki started to walk forward, and Nakajima met him at the center. There was no evading each other here, like Mizuki had evaded Yuka at the beginning of all their Noah encounters. Right away, Shiozaki and Nakajima were in full contact, grappling for control.

They kept trading the advantage, neither one of them keeping it for long.

After a few minutes of mat work, things became much faster paced. Soon, the two of them were struggling on the apron, and the fight moved briefly outside of the ring.

It didn't stay there for long, though.

The match started to go in Nakajima's favor, and he grinned at the audience and the cameras. But it was more mischievous than evil.

And Mizuki realized that he was actually doing it. He was trying to do what he'd promised her. He was channeling his love to fight Shiozaki instead of his hate.

Shiozaki managed to fling Nakajima into the corner, and then he kicked Nakajima's leg out from under him. He stomped on Nakajima's leg a couple times, trying to weaken it. Again and again, he worked that leg.

Mizuki winced in sympathy.

The tides turned again, though, and Nakajima got free of Shiozaki and managed to hit a double stomp on him.

Several minutes passed.

Shiozaki caught Nakajima and lifted him in the air, then brought him down onto the canvas, and Mizuki couldn't believe it. Emerald Flowsion! She let out a sharp exhale.

Had Yuka and Shiozaki planned that move together? A visible symbol connecting their two promotions?

Shiozaki didn't try to pin Nakajima after hitting Misawa's finisher. Instead, he climbed to the top of the turnbuckle. But Nakajima interrupted before he could do anything else, and not long after that, Shiozaki fell onto the padding outside of the ring.

Nakajima ascended the ropes. He stood up at the very top, and Mizuki knew exactly what he was about to do before he did it.

He leapt off the top rope and landed a double stomp on Shiozaki where he lay on the floor.

An absolutely brutal move. Shiozaki had already taken one just like it a couple months earlier, when Kenoh had leapt from the top rope onto his prone body in their double title match.

Mizuki wondered if Nakajima was inspired by her own moveset, or if he was drawing more on Kenoh here, looking for something he knew would hurt.

The stomp damaged both of them. Nakajima clutched his leg, hurting from all the work that Shiozaki had done to it earlier. But Shiozaki was worse off, writhing in pain on the ground. It still wasn't enough, though, for Nakajima to get the pin after he rolled Shiozaki back into the ring.

A few more minutes passed.

They exchanged a couple moves, and Mizuki's anxiety ratcheted up each time another one of Shiozaki's hit.

Then Nakajima was laid out in the middle of the ring. Shiozaki headed for the ropes, and Mizuki's hands curled into tight fists at her side.

But when Shiozaki leapt from the top, Nakajima was ready with his knees up to interrupt the splash. He twisted around and grabbed Shiozaki, putting him into a submission hold.

Mizuki had to stop herself from cheering audibly.

Shiozaki escaped the submission and headed for the turnbuckle. But Nakajima grabbed onto him, then climbed up after. Suspended on the second rope, Nakajima brought them both down with an avalanche Cutie Special.

Mizuki let out a gasp.

Instead of going for the pin, Nakajima dragged Shiozaki upright. Then he bounced off the ropes and launched into Whirling Candy, twisting his body in the air as he landed hard on Shiozaki.

Still, he did not go for the pin. He climbed up onto the turnbuckle at the opposite corner, then leapt down from it and landed another double stomp on Shiozaki.

But even after that, it was still not enough. Nakajima went to cover him, and Shiozaki kicked out before the count hit three.

What is there even left to do? Mizuki wondered. He'd brought out everything she had. He'd wrestled the match how she'd asked him to, fighting Shiozaki with love instead of hate. And it wasn't enough.

She could see him beginning to lose faith. He was acting with desperation, now.

Shiozaki recaptured the advantage. Then, while Nakajima was down, Shiozaki walked over and held out a hand to him.

Nakajima stared at him for a long moment, then reached up and took it.

Both of them pulled back, then they hit each other in the face. Again and again, they hit each other. The whole time, their hands stayed firmly linked between them, tying them together.

Shiozaki knocked Nakajima onto his back, but he recovered and retaliated, and then Shiozaki was the one on his back. Nakajima sat astride him, hitting him over and over again. Then he paused, staring down at him.

He rolled off of Shiozaki, taking a breath.

Both of them got to their feet. They struggled against each other, but Nakajima couldn't execute the Cutie Special, and Shiozaki took him out with a lariat and a few other moves.

Nakajima lay in the middle of the ring, on his stomach.

Shiozaki turned away from him, then climbed up to the top rope. He balanced there for a moment, then leapt off of it and spun around in midair.

Mizuki's breath caught.

But just before the Magical Magical Girl Splash could slam into his back, Nakajima found some last reserve of strength and managed to just barely roll out of the way.

How...? Mizuki thought.

As Shiozaki reeled from the impact, Nakajima lifted him and hit the Cutie Special, bridging up on his toes.

The referee's hand came down onto the canvas.

Mizuki couldn't stop herself from whispering the count along with him, her heart beating so loudly, she thought it might burst from her chest.

One. Two. Three.

Nakajima collapsed beside Shiozaki as soon as it was over.

Mizuki's theme started to play. Hearing it like this, it didn't feel real. Her eyes were fixed on the two bodies at the center of the ring.

They faced away from each other, curling into themselves. Nakajima's hands were covering his face.

Slowly, he sat up. He looked down at Shiozaki where he lay, and Shiozaki gazed up at him.

It looked like both of them had tears on their cheeks. Mizuki wondered if Yuka had also instructed Shiozaki to cry, or if the tears were all his own.

After a long moment, Nakajima held out a hand. Shiozaki grabbed it, and Nakajima just held onto him.

Shiozaki sat up, then he shifted closer, and suddenly they were embracing.

Before they parted, they leaned their foreheads briefly against each other. Then Nakajima got to his feet, and Shiozaki stood up shortly after him.

It wasn't until the referee raised Nakajima's hand that Mizuki realized he'd done it. She was the Princess of Princess champion now.

The referee handed the belt to Shiozaki, and Mizuki was confused for a moment, but then Shiozaki walked behind Nakajima and started to fasten it around his waist.

Mizuki was doing everything she could to avoid openly bawling, at this point.

Nakajima was crying, too, as he took the offered microphone.

"I'm sorry." His breath hitched. "I was wrong. I said I would hate you so that I could surpass you, but the truth is that I surpassed you because I loved you."

Past tense, Mizuki thought. Nakajima didn't seem to notice his mistake. She hoped it didn't stand out to the fans, either.

It was hard to see his face through the tears in her eyes and the distance, but his tears didn't sound fake.

Nakajima went silent, and someone handed Shiozaki a microphone as well.

"I love you," Shiozaki started. "I went all out in our match because I love you. I didn't want to lose because I love you."

His voice broke. When he continued, it shook with tears.

"That said, you are the only person I could ever be happy to lose to. Because if you hold this belt, then I also hold it. That's what it truly means to be partners. I know that you're going to lead Tokyo Joshi Pro into a better future than the year we just had, and I'm so happy that I'll get to see it. Maybe sometime down the line, we'll fight again, and if I can get stronger, then I can lead for a bit, but it's your time now."

He lowered the mic, letting Nakajima finish closing out the show.

Nakajima was full on sobbing now. Just uncontrollably crying in the ring.

"Everyone can come out now," he managed to say.

Shiozaki walked over and wrapped an arm around him. He didn't shake it off, though he also didn't really acknowledge the contact.

By the time the rest of the roster emerged from backstage, Nakajima had the tears under control. It was impossible for Mizuki to tell how much of it was acting, and how much was real.

He lifted up the mic.

It almost seemed like he hadn't prepared anything to say if he'd won. He spoke like he didn't expect to be doing this.

"Tokyo Joshi Pro keeps evolving, but we're going to keep bringing you shows. As the champion, I promise I will show you a spectacular view." He paused, then added, "Thank you for coming."

Nakajima let go of the mic, and the rest of the roster yelled out their own thanks to the crowd.

Then, after a moment of hesitation that probably only Mizuki noticed, Nakajima put his arm around Shiozaki, and the two of them left like that, walking off the stage together.

Mizuki wiped the tears from her eyes and sent Nakajima a text that just said: "❤️"

It felt like living in a dream as she left the venue and made her way back home. Her thoughts were a swirl of emotions—happiness for herself and Nakajima, pride for what he'd done, bittersweet sorrow for Shiozaki having to bare his heart like that, and a deep feeling of regret that she didn't get to win the title herself in her own match.

Mizuki kept forgetting that she had a Noah show the next day. She doubted that she would get much sleep that night, though she would try anyway.

She curled up in bed to watch the post-match comments.

Shiozaki and Nakajima did their interview together. They stood beside each other, though they stood apart.

Nakajima carried the belt over his shoulder now instead of wearing it around his waist. He was clutching it close.

"Are you angry?" he asked Shiozaki.

Shiozaki shook his head. "I had fun," he said, smiling. The smile didn't stay for long, but it seemed genuine.

"Me too," Nakajima said. He wore a tiny smirk. "We'll have to fight again sometime."

Shiozaki looked like he very much wanted a break from fighting Nakajima, but the expression was gone from his face in an instant.

"I'll keep the belt for you until you do," Nakajima continued.

"Okay."

The interviewer asked, "Given everything that went down, do you still want to tag as the Magical Sugar Rabbits?"

Shiozaki briefly glanced at Nakajima. Then he looked away, facing the camera again. "We never broke up."

Oh, that one hurt.

Nakajima didn't even have an answer. Finally, he just said, "She'll need to stay close to me if she wants to figure out all of my weaknesses."

"How was Tokyo Dome City Hall?" the interviewer asked.

"It felt like stepping into another world," Shiozaki answered.

"I've been here before, I think, but never like this," Nakajima said. "It was a good place to finally achieve my dream." His arm tightened around the belt.

"I'm glad that I got to have a match against my favorite partner, even though I lost." Shiozaki gazed at Nakajima. "Everything I said in the ring, I truly meant that."

Nakajima met his gaze, then looked away. "Me too," he said. "I meant it too."

The next morning, Mizuki called Nakajima, and he picked up but didn't say anything.

"Hey," she started. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I know how hard that was for you."

Silence.

"You did amazing last night," Mizuki continued. "And it means so much to me that you did what you did out there. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but I just wanted to thank you."

Silence.

"I'm going to do my best in your match tonight, but if there's anything else I can do for you, let me know, okay?"

Still no response.

Mizuki said goodbye to him, and then she hung up.

Some hours later, Mizuki stood in the locker room at Korakuen Hall, preparing for a match that she really did not want to be in.

It was just her and Kenoh this time. She still never knew what to say to him.

She'd learned, though, that when Kenoh really got going on a topic, it was easy to let him just rant about it for a while without offering any input of her own.

Today, he was angry about the fact that Kiyomiya had gone on a reality television dating show.

As Kenoh ranted about Kiyomiya letting himself get pulled around on a string by greedy men, Mizuki thought about the relationship between the two of them. It was an odd one for sure. Despite their differences, Kenoh almost seemed to treat Kiyomiya like something akin to a younger brother.

She'd asked Nakajima about it, but he just told her that Kiyomiya wasn't worth thinking about, and he didn't care how Kenoh felt about anything.

Sometimes it seemed like the only person in the world who didn't worry about Nakajima turning on Kenoh was Kenoh himself.

Well, at least as long as I have to be Nakajima, Kenoh is safe, Mizuki thought.

She'd attempted to figure out if Nakajima had any plans to betray him, but he still wouldn't tell her anything about what he was trying to do in Kongoh. Maybe he himself didn't yet know.

Mizuki put on Nakajima's gear and tried to get herself into the mindset she needed to be in for this match.

I'm not going to hurt Yuka like I did last time, Mizuki resolved. But I am going to win.

After watching Nakajima win under her name the night before, she felt compelled to live up to that victory. She was going to show that she truly could surpass Yuka, on her own terms this time. She was worthy of the belt that she now held.

It was with that determination that she walked out into the arena.

When Yuka entered the ring, Mizuki stared at her, and Yuka stared back, and the expression on her face was utterly unreadable.

Yuka held up the belt after she removed it, her gaze still locked on Mizuki. Her point was clear: You never won the title from me.

Kenoh and Kiyomiya shoved at each other before the match began, and the referee had to separate them. Mizuki held out her arm, pushing Kenoh back. She gazed at Yuka and slowly licked her lips.

Yuka stepped forward, forcing Kiyomiya to wait.

The match began.

Mizuki and Yuka stared at each other.

How many times have we done this? Mizuki thought, gazing at her. Somehow, each of these exchanges at the beginning of their matches was different. This time, though, Yuka's gaze was inscrutable to her.

If Yuka had stared at her like this after Mizuki's first match as Nakajima, Mizuki didn't know if she would have been able to recognize her.

Mizuki tagged out to Kenoh without even touching Yuka.

The expression on Yuka's face shifted to a familiar look of frustration. She tagged out to Kiyomiya, and he and Kenoh were instantly on each other at the center of the ring, their fight completely opposite the slow simmer of tension between Nakajima and Shiozaki.

Mizuki envied Kenoh and Kiyomiya, in a way. No matter how many times they fought, no matter how many times they stood at opposite corners, at the end of the day, Kenoh still loved him. She ached to have that same certainty in her relationship with Yuka.

It was perhaps fitting that the first time Mizuki and Yuka touched in this match, it happened outside the ring.

Mizuki shoved Yuka into the barricades, sending them rattling. Then she grabbed Yuka's arm and started to twist back on it without thinking.

As soon as she realized what she was doing, she paused. No, she thought. I said I wasn't going to do this.

She switched up her strategy and instead only pretended to work Yuka's arm.

Yuka looked at her weirdly at first, but after a moment, she caught on and let out an expression of pain that seemed very close to being real.

Mizuki could only offer her Nakajima's grin in response.

It was hard to nonverbally tell someone I'm sorry while wearing the smirk of an evil man. She hoped her intent somehow came through anyway.

But then Yuka wrenched her arm out of Mizuki's grasp and didn't pretend to be caught by her anymore. She glared at Mizuki, and the message was clear: "If you're going to hurt me, then you have to be willing to do it for real." She refused to cheapen their fight.

Mizuki didn't want to have to make this choice. She didn't want to have to fight this match how Nakajima wanted her to fight it. But she'd made a promise.

And she wanted to win.

Allowing herself to show a fleeting expression of regret outside the view of the cameras, Mizuki stepped back and kicked Yuka in the shoulder.

I'll hurt her just enough, she thought. Just enough to make Nakajima happy, and just enough to give me the edge. No more than that.

She kicked Yuka's arm, and Yuka clutched at it with a shout of pain, gritting her teeth.

Mizuki returned to her corner carrying a bad feeling in her heart. She ignored it as best as she could, channeling it into violence against Kiyomiya once Kenoh tagged her in.

For the first time, she actually got enjoyment out of attacking someone with Shutter Chance. It felt good to hurt someone without any consequences, relishing the attention from the fans.

As soon as Yuka was in the ring with Mizuki, she knocked Kenoh off the apron so that Mizuki couldn't tag out. If they were going to have the fight that Nakajima wanted, they were going to have the one that Shiozaki wanted, too.

They exchanged kicks and chops, trading the advantage.

Mizuki's work on Yuka's arm still hadn't taken away her ability to do chops. Some part of Mizuki felt relieved about that, even as she grimaced at the force of Yuka's hand striking her body.

When Kenoh entered the ring and got in position for Endless Hate, Yuka once again turned away from Mizuki.

As Mizuki kicked her over and over, she thought that maybe this was a mercy. Maybe if she could see the expression Yuka wore as she endured this move, she might not be able to go through with it after all.

They subjected Kiyomiya to Endless Hate as well. Mizuki's kicks to his back were extra forceful.

Then it was just Yuka and her in the ring together.

Mizuki wore Nakajima's grin so easily now. She flashed it at Yuka as they fought.

I deserve to be the champion, Mizuki thought. I can beat you, too.

She kicked Yuka, and Yuka went down. Mizuki kicked her again, then again.

Mizuki went to kick her with the intent of finishing her off, but paused before she made contact. Yuka just collapsed against the mat beneath her. She looked absolutely helpless.

The ref moved to check on her, but Mizuki shoved him away.

Then she hoisted Yuka up and lifted her into the Vertical Spike, bringing her down hard onto the canvas.

It was the same move that Nakajima had done to Shiozaki when he'd betrayed him. Yuka was just as powerless to endure it now. Just as weak.

Mizuki straddled her and hooked Yuka's leg, leaning down as she pinned her.

As soon as the count hit three, she rolled off of her.

Mizuki got to her feet, basking in the sound of Nakajima's theme and the euphoria of victory. She grabbed Shiozaki's belt and stood over Yuka, placing one foot on her chest and holding up the belt.

Yuka gazed up at her, completely at her mercy.

And suddenly Mizuki just wanted to cry. She didn't feel good, like she'd felt when Nakajima had won. This was an utterly hollow victory. She'd hurt Yuka, and for what? Just to prove a point?

The belt was a leaden weight in her hand, dragging her down. In that moment, Mizuki decided she hated that belt. It was a cursed lodestone growing heavier and heavier the closer she got to holding it.

The GHC title started to slip from her fingers, and she lowered it and draped it over Yuka.

Then, after glancing back just once, Mizuki rolled out of the ring and left, leaving Kenoh to close out the show.

Backstage, an interviewer asked her about the match.

"I will talk a little about it," Mizuki said. "As you can see, I got the complete victory. But, he..." she trailed off. Walking out here, she'd planned to talk about how she had crushed Yuka completely. About how Yuka was weak, and Mizuki was going to destroy her on the 22nd. But the words got stuck in her mouth, and she couldn't get them out.

"I will win the GHC on the 22nd," she said, finally. Then she walked off, leaving the interview unfinished.

Mizuki received a call from Nakajima shortly after she got home. She fumbled with her phone, trying to answer it as soon as possible. She hadn't heard from him since before Wrestle Princess.

She wasn't expecting what he opened the conversation with.

"They offered me a contract," Nakajima said. "For you, I mean. I asked for a few days to think about it, so you have a bit of time to make your decision."

"You can go ahead and sign it," Mizuki said. They’d both become very skilled at forging each other's signature.

"Really? Just like that? You don't even want to look at it first?"

"I'll look at it, but as long as it's fair, I'm going to sign it. I've been a freelancer for the past few years, but Tokyo Joshi Pro is where I want to be right now. Wrestling your matches in Noah has made this very, very clear to me."

"Hey, Noah isn't so bad."

"Maybe it wouldn't be if I wasn't you!"

He laughed, but presented no argument.

"You watched the show tonight, right?" she asked.

"Yes."

"How is it that I went into this match telling myself that I wasn't going to hurt her, and then I ended up hurting her anyway?" Mizuki asked.

Nakajima was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Maybe you and I aren't as different as you like to think?"

Mizuki frowned. "Well, if that's true, then it goes both ways."

He didn't respond to that.

She sighed. "What did you think of the match, anyway?"

"You did what I told you to do."

"That's fair, isn't it? I got you a win after you got me one." She settled onto the couch. "I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, though. I know there's only one more match before the anniversary show, but..."

"Seemed to me you did fine."

"That's the problem."

He was silent.

"Is that really how you want to win?" Mizuki asked. "You want to... you want to break him like that?"

"The 'how' isn't really important to me," he said.

"Then why not win another way?"

He was quiet for a long moment, and she thought he wasn't going to answer, but then he said, "I can't take the chance that I'll lose."

It was the closest he'd come to ever admitting any sort of vulnerability to her.

"If I lose, what's left for me?" Nakajima laughed. It was not a kind laugh.

"Well, you have Kongoh," she tried to reassure him.

"Kenoh does have a belt..."

"No!" Mizuki objected.

He laughed again, nicer this time.

"Why do you even care what happens to Kenoh, anyway?" he asked. "I thought you didn't like him."

"I don't have to like someone to not want them to be betrayed," she said. "And I don't hate Kenoh. He seems like a reliable teammate."

"You've teamed with him more than I have, at this point."

"What? No, that can't be true!" Mizuki lamented.

She realized that it had been almost a month since they'd swapped bodies. It felt like they were no closer to getting it reversed.

What if it's permanent? she thought. It was a worry that she didn't want to risk speaking into existence, so she kept it to herself.

But then Nakajima said, "If you have anything else to say, you'll have to say it later. I have to go."

"Take care of my belt for me, okay?" she said.

He hummed a yes.

Then he ended the call, and Mizuki tipped her head back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

Fans online started to talk about Mizuki's match. Some fans theorized that she had shown remorse in her post-match comments, citing her inability to talk about what she had done to Yuka.

Mizuki kept waiting for Nakajima to criticize her for it and insist that she set the record straight in the match before the anniversary show. But he never did.

She knew he had to be following the fan discourse about her tenure in Noah; she was doing the same for his time in Tokyo Joshi Pro. But for whatever reason, he let this go.

Both of them had shows on November 14. Nakajima had a Tokyo Joshi Pro match in Tokyo in the early afternoon, and Mizuki had a Noah match in Shizuoka in the evening. As the date drew closer, she found herself getting more and more antsy.

She called Nakajima the day before the show just to check in with him.

"So, you're tagging with Shiozaki and Raku tomorrow," Mizuki said. Your first match as the champion. I should be in that match.

"Looks like it," he said.

"Is that going to be a problem for you?" she asked.

"You're worried I'm going to lose right after winning the belt?"

"Not exactly..."

"Well, I don't know what teaming with Raku will be like. She's a strange person. Yesterday, Go said—"

"Wait, the two of you have been hanging out?" Mizuki interrupted.

"Yes? It would be weird if we didn't, right? After we made up at the end of our match for you and Sakazaki?"

"Oh my god," Mizuki said. "You're actually... you're actually trying."

"If I'm going to put this much work into something, I'm not just going to throw it away. Unless I have good reason to."

"Is that a threat?" she asked, mostly joking.

He didn't answer.

"I hate you," she muttered.

She could hear him grinning at the other end of the line.

"So, no, tagging with Shiozaki and Raku shouldn't be a problem for me," he said. "Is it going to be a problem for you to tag with Kongoh against Sakazaki?"

"Yes," Mizuki answered honestly. "I can't keep doing what I've been doing. What you've been asking me to do. Are you sure I can't win another way?"

She waited as he thought about it.

But when he answered, he just said, "No."

Mizuki let out a frustrated sigh. "Come on, you seriously think you're not good enough at wrestling to be able to win without having to injure him first?"

"It's not about skill. It's about results."

"I get that you're afraid of losing, but you don't have to be! It's not the end of the world if you lose."

"Maybe it isn't for you. If you had lost to Sakazaki, what would have happened? You and Sakazaki would have hugged and made up at the end, and you'd have gone right back to tagging together like you'd never feuded, and if you felt any resentment toward her for winning, you would've just kept it to yourself and pretended it wasn't there. You'd tell yourself that you were happy. And maybe you'd even believe it."

He took a breath.

"But I made my choice. I chose to win, no matter the cost," he finished.

"And has it made you any happier?"

"Ask me again after I've won the title."

"Well, you won mine," Mizuki pointed out. "And you didn't have to break him to do it. Even though you didn't think it would work, you still managed to win. I think you could do it again, but you're too scared to try."

As soon as she said it, she knew he was going to hang up. He would run away from this conversation just as he ran away from so many others.

But to her surprise, he stayed on the line.

"Fuck it, it's just one preview match, right? Fine. You have my blessing to go into that match and lose as badly as you want."

To Mizuki's frustration, she couldn't watch the Tokyo Joshi Pro show live that day. Traveling and preparing for Noah kept her busy. She forced herself to stay away from social media, not wanting to worry about what Nakajima was getting up to in her own promotion while she was trying to focus on not messing things up in his.

The last preview match before the 20th anniversary show was a big one: Mizuki teamed with Kenoh and three other members of Kongoh against Yuka, Kiyomiya, and the three members of Full Throttle. She hoped the large size of the teams meant she'd be spending less time facing Yuka.

For the first time, Mizuki didn't insist on starting off the match. She let Kenoh and Kiyomiya start. Both of them were clearly eager for it, and she really was not.

She hopped down off the apron and leaned against it as she watched Kenoh and Kiyomiya fight. Occasionally, her gaze would wander toward the opposite corner, and she'd stare at Yuka for a bit. Sometimes Yuka gazed back at her. But she wore that same unreadable expression from before.

When Mizuki finally got an opportunity to touch Yuka, it once again happened outside the ring. Mizuki rushed out with the rest of Kongoh to knock their opponents off the apron, and as everyone expected, she targeted Yuka.

But this time, when Mizuki slammed her into the barricades, she left Yuka's arm alone.

Yuka gave her an odd look. Here in the shadows, they had greater freedom to share an exchange that was mostly outside the view of the cameras.

Mizuki struggled with her until they were in a position where Mizuki's head was against Yuka's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Mizuki whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Yuka yelled and shoved her away, then hit her with a chop that echoed out in the quiet arena.

Mizuki retreated back to the blue corner, her chest stinging from the strike. She stepped up onto the apron.

Several minutes later, she tagged into the match.

She faced Yo-Hey, who was someone she knew next to nothing about. She tortured him for an extended period with Shutter Chance in two corners.

But he managed to make it back to the red corner, and then Yuka stepped into the ring.

There were no slow, lingering stares this time.

Yuka did not let up on the force of her chops and lariats at all. She made sure that Mizuki felt the impact of each one.

Mizuki did not hold back with her kicks, either, but she did stay away from Yuka's arms and shoulders.

In the end, Yuka got the better of her. Mizuki returned to her corner and tagged out to Tadasuke, trying to banish the feeling that she'd looked weak out there.

Yuka fought for a little longer, then she tagged out, too.

The match continued.

Then it was Kiyomiya and Kenoh again, and Mizuki watched as Kiyomiya lifted Kenoh into the Tiger Suplex. She slid into the ring and broke up the pin before Kiyomiya could beat him a second time with that move.

When she looked up, Yuka was there.

Yuka's hand came down hard on Mizuki's chest, and Mizuki rolled out of the ring. Yuka followed her out, and this time Mizuki was the one getting slammed into the barricades.

Mizuki lost track of what was going on elsewhere in the match. The world narrowed down to just her and Yuka, fighting half in shadow. Mizuki resisted the urge to target Yuka's arms, disgusted with herself that she felt a desire to hurt Yuka like that even now.

Her decision cost her the advantage. Mizuki crashed to the ground, and Yuka stomped on her leg, then threaded it through the metal bars of the barricade and kicked it, sending pain rattling through Mizuki's body.

Mizuki grit her teeth and stared up at Yuka.

Yuka just wore a look of detached determination. How does it feel? her expression said. I'm capable of hurting you, too.

Mizuki stumbled upright, leaning against the barricade for support. Then Yuka was on her, and the two of them continued to fight right there on the outside.

At some point, Mizuki registered the sound of the bell ringing over and over again, signifying that the match was over. The officials were telling her and Yuka to stop.

Yuka abruptly let go of her.

Mizuki caught herself before she fell and nearly took out the barricade with her. She gazed at Kiyomiya standing victorious over Nioh, bathed in light, his music playing beneath the cacophony of the bell.

Yuka slid into the ring. Mizuki limped over and started to climb up onto the apron, but Kiyomiya and the rest of Yuka's team moved to stand between her and Yuka.

Mizuki turned away from them. She hopped back down, grimacing when she put weight on her leg.

She didn't want to hear what Yuka had to say to her on the mic. If this was an experiment, it was a failed one. Nakajima had given her his blessing to lose, and she had done just that. Now Yuka stood triumphant and whole, and Mizuki was the one hurting.

Mizuki walked off, focusing very hard on not crying. By the time she made it back to the locker room, the urge to cry had dried up entirely. It was getting easier and easier to harden her heart.

Mizuki didn't watch Yuka's post-match interview. Instead, she opened up the Tokyo Joshi Pro show.

It was comforting to hear Namba's voice again as she did the announcements. Mizuki missed her.

She watched Nakajima walk out to announce that he'd signed a contract and was now a regular member of the Tokyo Joshi Pro roster. He left the ring, but before he could walk back through the entrance, Rika appeared suddenly to express her enthusiasm, and Nakajima actually physically jumped in surprise.

Mizuki laughed, even as she sympathized with him.

About an hour into the show, her phone rang. Mizuki paused the video and answered the call.

"If you're calling to gloat, I really don't want to hear it," she said.

"I just wanted to ask how things went." Nakajima seemed to be in a good mood. "I saw part of it on social media, but not all of it."

Mizuki just sighed, rubbing at her face.

"Badly, okay?" she said. "It went badly."

"Kiyomiya won the match," he stated, shockingly unconcerned about the result.

"Doesn't that bother you?"

"Eh, he's annoying, but it's not like this really matters." He paused. "Did you watch my show?"

"I'm watching it right now." Mizuki was in the middle of the fourth match.

"Apparently so many people tried to watch it live that it crashed the entire website." He sounded almost proud.

"Really?" Mizuki felt resentful that she couldn't be here for this new surge of interest in the promotion that she now represented as champion.

"The rest of the roster sends their congratulations, by the way," Nakajima said. "Everyone was happy to hear that you'd signed."

"I wish I could've been there."

He didn't attempt to give her a reassuring response.

"Well, thanks for the update, I guess," Mizuki said.

They talked for a little longer, but Mizuki was very tired, and she really wanted to finish the show before she went to bed, so she said goodnight to him and hung up.

After the call ended, she took a breath. Then she unpaused the video.

When Namba announced the main event, Mizuki's heart started pounding. She watched Miyu, Miu, and Haruna enter. Then Mizuki's own theme started to play, and Raku, Shiozaki, and Nakajima walked out. The three of them posed at the entrance.

Raku ran out in front. Shiozaki and Nakajima looked at each other, smiled, then walked down the ramp together.

Mizuki rewound it and watched it again.

She got so caught up in examining their interaction that she forgot to observe the belt that Nakajima carried over his shoulder. Her belt.

The camera panned away from them to focus on Raku as she climbed up onto the turnbuckle.

After everyone had entered and Nakajima and Shiozaki shed the outer layers of their gear, the three of them briefly conferred in the corner, and then Shiozaki and Raku stepped through the ropes, leaving Nakajima to start the match.

At the opposite corner, Haruna stepped forward to face him first.

Nakajima tricked Haruna into turning her back on him. As soon as she tried to make her way back to the corner, he kicked her and grabbed her tail, dragging her over to the red corner.

Nakajima held up his hand and tagged Shiozaki. They exchanged mischievous grins as they started to work Haruna's tail. Then Shiozaki tagged Raku, inviting her to join in. Raku tagged Nakajima, and after a double stomp to Haruna's tail, Nakajima tagged Shiozaki, then back to Raku.

Raku fought Haruna for a short while, then took her back to the red corner and said something to her teammates. Shiozaki and Nakajima looked at each other, then ducked under the ropes and ran to the opposite corner to knock their opponents off the apron.

When they turned back around, Haruna lay on her back at the center of the ring. Raku stood over her, and Nakajima and Shiozaki went to stand at either side of her. The three of them held up their hands in a salute, but Miyu and Miu disrupted the move before they could do the Goodnight Express.

Mizuki booed them from where she sat watching the show in bed.

Shiozaki and Nakajima took back control. They laid out Miu and Miyu at the center of the ring, and Raku deposited Haruna beside them.

Shiozaki, Raku, and Nakajima lined up again. They did the salute and announced "Oyasumi Express!"

Mizuki cheered as the three of them ran across the bodies of their opponents, stepping on each one of them. Nakajima jumped from Miyu to Miu to Haruna with double stomps to the midsection of each, wearing a wild grin.

After walking across their opponents one last time, Raku stopped and held up her arms, telling the others to stop as well.

Then Raku sat down on Haruna, clasped her hands together, and lay down to sleep on top of her.

A beat behind her, Nakajima and Shiozaki followed suit.

The referee started to count the pin, but all three of their opponents managed to roll out from underneath them.

Nakajima and Shiozaki returned to their corner and shouted encouragement at Raku as she fought against Miu and then Miyu.

When Nakajima tagged in, he rushed across the ring to knock Miu from the apron, frightening Haruna down as well. Then he strung Miyu up against the ropes and attacked her with an assist from Shiozaki. It wasn't enough to get the pin, but he seemed to be enjoying himself.

Shiozaki made a blind tag while Nakajima fought Miu. The two of them executed a tandem move on her, effortlessly in sync.

Miu managed to rally. She tried to lift Shiozaki in the Giant Swing, but Nakajima ran into the ring and dropkicked her, saving his partner.

Then Nakajima and Shiozaki climbed up the ropes at the corner. They grinned at each other and linked hands, then leapt off and brought Miu down. Their chemistry felt so familiar, it made Mizuki desperately miss Yuka.

They made their way over to the other corner and ascended to the very top. They placed their arms around each other, then launched off the turnbuckle onto Miyu and Miu standing in the ring below.

Both women kicked out before three, but it was close.

Miu tagged out to Haruna, and Shiozaki tagged out to Nakajima.

From here, the match didn't last much longer. Nakajima took some offense from Haruna, and some from her teammates as well, but it wasn't enough to stop him from isolating Haruna and hitting her with the Cutie Special.

The ref counted to three, and then the bell rung. Namba declared Mizuki the winner, and her theme started to play.

Nakajima sat up. When the referee handed him the belt, he stared down at it for a long moment, then got to his feet.

The referee held up their hands. Nakajima and Shiozaki were both grinning.

Then, in a move that seemed almost subconscious, Nakajima started to lean backwards until his back was resting on Shiozaki's. He lifted up the belt in triumph.

They're doing The Lean, Mizuki thought, her mouth falling open.

Shiozaki wore an exhausted smile as he faithfully supported Nakajima's weight. There was a sadness there along with his happiness. When Nakajima pulled away from him, they exchanged a look, and whatever emotion passed between them, it was something only for them.

Someone slid three microphones into the ring. Shiozaki was the first to pick one up.

"MagiRabbi Express did well," he said, looking at his two teammates. "I can't believe it's already been a week since Tokyo Dome City Hall." He smiled softly at Nakajima. "I guess I should let you talk, huh?"

"Yeah, you suck on the mic," Nakajima said.

Shiozaki shot him a look and received a smirk in response.

"I'm happy that you joined, though," Shiozaki said. "I'm glad to have you here."

Nakajima walked over to him, and they pulled each other into a hug. Mizuki knew they were probably only hugging because they thought it was expected of them here, but it still made her heart pound.

Then Nakajima reached up and gestured for Raku to come over, and she happily got enfolded into the embrace. The crowd clapped.

"This reminds me of when we teamed in Sendai," Raku commented after they'd parted.

Nakajima grinned at her. "We'll close with Happy Happy Express today," he said.

"We're in Shinkiba, so that means curry udon noodles today, right?" Shiozaki said.

"Yes?" Nakajima said.

Both of them sounded unsure. Mizuki put her face in her hands.

Then the three of them lifted their mics and said, "Eat Curry Udon, and Happy Happy Express!"

They exited the ring together and gave one final salute before they stepped backstage, and that was the note the show ended on.

Mizuki fell asleep soon after she finished watching the show. She woke up groggy and sore, but strangely feeling alright other than that.

She sought out the post-match comments, wanting to watch them before she had to leave the hotel.

Shiozaki opened with: "We're the MagiRabbi Express!"

"Yes!" Nakajima grinned. "Raku, are you afraid of heights?"

"The part where you stand on the rope... it was narrower than the ropes in the dojo," Raku admitted.

"I held her hand so she wouldn't fall," Nakajima told the camera.

"That was your first match as a signed roster member," the interviewer said.

"Yes, I am now," Nakajima said.

Raku started to clap, and Shiozaki joined in.

"Nodoka actually cried when I told her." Nakajima laughed. "This locker room really is something else. But now I'm going to represent this title as a member of Tokyo Joshi Pro." He tapped the belt he wore over his shoulder.

"Why did you decide to sign now, though?" the interviewer asked.

"I've wrestled a lot of places over the course of my career, but I've realized that this is where I want to be."

"Do you have any new goals as champion now that you're officially a member of the roster?"

"I want to reach new heights both as MagiRabbi and as myself. I want to prove that the two of us are the center of Tokyo Joshi Pro." Nakajima paused. "Actually, the center of all pro wrestling."

Shiozaki's face made a complicated expression, at that. But he hid it well.

Mizuki thought about that match as she traveled home. Watching it, it hadn't quite felt real. It was hard to imagine that Nakajima was capable of being the person he was in that video. He'd acted so in love.

Then again, if he is to be believed, he has successfully managed to fake being in love before, Mizuki thought. Maybe that's what Shiozaki saw whenever he looked at Nakajima now. A man who'd used this same trick on him before.

When Mizuki arrived back at Nakajima's apartment, she changed into comfy clothes, then collapsed onto the couch. 

After she'd lain there for a few minutes, she reached for her phone.

"Well, I watched your match," Mizuki said.

"And?" Nakajima prompted.

"Honestly, you did great."

"You didn't think I could tag with him without our own team falling apart?" he asked.

"No, I just—I just wanted to tell you that you did really well," Mizuki said. "Thank you."

He seemed not to know what to say in response to that.

"Things with Yuka are... hard right now," Mizuki continued, "so it was nice to watch your match and have a happier reminder."

Nakajima didn't have an answer for that, either.

Instead, he changed the subject. "Yamashita's kicks impressed me. I want to fight her in my own body."

"Miyu would win," Mizuki said immediately.

"Maybe," he allowed. "But it would be a hell of a fight."

They started to discuss the match. Nakajima gave his opinion of all the Tokyo Joshi Pro wrestlers he'd shared the ring with. He avoided talking about Shiozaki, and Mizuki thought he wasn't going to mention him at all.

But then he did.

"You know what the worst part of all of it is?" Nakajima said. "It feels great." He laughed bitterly. "It's like we never left. It seems impossible that I can have both him and the belt at once, and yet... He's out there supporting me in the ring, letting me take the spotlight and celebrating my championship, then going out to dinner with me afterward."

Mizuki smiled. "That's what Yuka and I would do."

"Yeah, but I'm not you. And he isn't Sakazaki. We're just playing your roles. None of it is real."

"But you want it to be," Mizuki realized.

He was silent on the other end.

"I've considered just stealing your life, you know," he admitted.

"Hey!" Mizuki protested. "That's not fair! You can't do that!" She sat up.

"I didn't say I was actually going to do it! I just thought about it." Nakajima sighed. "Not that we have any control over how this works, anyway."

"I know you claimed you don't care about the company, but I'm sure that part of you misses Noah, right?"

"Of course I do!" he snapped. "It's just..." He let out a breath. "I can't say I miss it much right now."

Oh, Mizuki understood that feeling.

"Your world is so easy," he said. "Love and friendship are things with real power here."

"Your world could be like that too, you know," Mizuki said. "You can work to change it."

But all he said was, "I don't think it's that simple."

That night, Mizuki looked at the calendar page on Nakajima's fridge and realized that Noah's 20th Anniversary show was just one week away. Unless a miracle happened between then and now, she was going to be wrestling Nakajima's GHC championship match against Yuka in the main event of that show.

She'd promised Nakajima that she would hate Yuka for just that one match. And Mizuki knew that she was capable of it. She'd glimpsed that part of herself already, the part of her that was ambitious and cruel.

But she was less certain that her relationship with Yuka would be able to survive it.

She had to make a choice: either she kept her promise and wrestled Yuka how Nakajima wanted her to, probably sacrificing her relationship in the process, or she could disregard what he wanted her to do and possibly lose his title match as well as make a mess of things for both him and Shiozaki.

And if she chose to disobey his wishes here, even if it saved her relationship with Yuka, Nakajima could still retaliate by ruining everything in her own promotion.

Mizuki knew that no matter how things might seem now, Nakajima wasn't truly her friend. Friendship was simply not something he believed in. Even if some part of him yearned for it and needed it, he rejected it.

So he left her with an unwinnable choice, and she had six days to figure out what she was going to do about it.

One show remained before Noah's 20th Anniversary. Tokyo Joshi Pro had a show just two days earlier. Nakajima and Shiozaki were scheduled to be in a five-way elimination match together, and the results would likely have title implications. Mizuki knew that she should be concerned for her own title in her own promotion, but she could hardly spare the energy to worry about that match.

The day before the show, she received a phone call. She glanced at the number on the screen. It was Shiozaki.

Mizuki pressed answer and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Do you remember what you asked me to do for you a month ago?" he said.

Yuka's voice. God, it had been so long since Mizuki had spoken to her.

"Yes," Mizuki answered. "I'm at that threshold, aren't I?" The point at which her relationship with Yuka might never be able to recover.

He said nothing, but the answer was clear.

"I don't know what to do," Mizuki confessed, after a long moment of silence. "I want to reconcile with her and tell her that I love her and I'm sorry, but I might have to truly hurt her, first. And I don't know if she'll want to hear that I love her after that."

"I think it's worth saying it anyway," he told her. "She can decide whether or not she wants to reconcile, but at least she'll be able to make that choice."

Mizuki wanted to ask him if Yuka still loved her, but she knew that would be unfair.

She assumed that Yuka did love her, or she would have told Shiozaki to act differently when he portrayed her, but this was a conversation Mizuki needed to have with Yuka, not through someone else.

Instead, she asked, "Would you ever take him back?"

Shiozaki sighed.

"I don't know," he said. "If you'd asked me in September, I would have said yes. In October, I'd have said no." He laughed, but it was more sad than happy. "I suppose that proves his point. I'm the champion who goes back and forth, after all."

"What would it take for you to say yes again?"

The line went silent for a couple minutes as he deliberated his answer.

"I'd need to hear him ask for it and be able to believe that he meant it."

He still loves you, Mizuki wanted to say. But that wasn't her secret to tell, and even if she did tell him, it would only hurt him more to learn that Nakajima loved him but was unwilling to be with him.

"I just..." Shiozaki exhaled. "I really want to forgive him. I want to have that opportunity. I'm tired of trying to hate him."

"I hope he gives you that chance."

"With Nakajima... Katsu... I've always known the kind of person he is. I just thought that I... I thought that the two of us were different. I thought our team meant more to him. That I meant more to him."

"Is it hard teaming with him again in Tokyo Joshi Pro?" she asked.

"No," he said, his voice soft. "But I wish it was."

The show the following day was a rare evening show. It was split into two halves: Nakajima and Shiozaki's match closed out the first half, and the second half was reserved for Hyper Misao vs Super Sasadango Machine.

Mizuki felt anxious about the former, and didn't know what to expect at all from the latter.

This was the first time that Nakajima and Shiozaki would be facing each other instead of teaming together after their singles match.

Trying to push her nerves aside, Mizuki watched Namba announce the Survival 5-Way Match. This match was fought under special rules: five wrestlers fought simultaneously, and they could be eliminated by pinfall, submission, or by going over the top rope. The last remaining wrestler won.

It was tantamount that Nakajima performed well here, because whoever beat him might very well become his next challenger.

Shoko entered first, dashing into the ring. Rika entered second, doing her traditional leap from the top of the turnbuckle. Miyu was third, hooking her arms around the ropes and turning her back on her opponents before stepping into the ring.

Then Yuka's theme started to play, and Shiozaki walked out. He spun around in the center of the ring, then swirled his arm like Yuka did, smiling at the crowd.

Nakajima entered last. He carried the title over his shoulder with confidence, grinning as he stepped into the ring and climbed up onto the turnbuckle. But instead of facing away from the audience like he did during his own entrance, he faced toward them.

After he leapt down and handed the belt to the referee, he and Shiozaki exchanged a glance. Shiozaki nodded at him, and Nakajima nodded back.

As is typical for a match with this many people in the ring, it had a messy start.

But even in the chaos, Nakajima and Shiozaki carefully avoided attacking each other. They fought around each other, but never actually targeted the other person.

For the first portion of the match, they fought separately, struggling with different opponents on opposite sides of the ring. Then it was just the two of them and Miyu, and almost without thinking, they started to work together, hitting tandem attacks on her.

Miyu was strong, but even the strength of the ace was no match for their combined power. Mizuki gasped when Nakajima and Shiozaki managed to pin her together.

One person eliminated, three more to go.

Rika reentered the fray. She rushed toward Nakajima, but flinched before she made contact with him, her crush on Mizuki preventing her from attacking. Nakajima quickly took advantage, nailing her with a dropkick that sent her rolling back out of the ring.

He and Shiozaki fought Shoko for a bit, but Rika evened out the numbers before they could overwhelm Shoko, too.

Rika had to hype herself up before she could fight Nakajima. While she hesitated, Shoko struggled against Shiozaki.

Nakajima lay at one side of the ring, dazed. He watched Shoko lift up Shiozaki, and got to his feet and made it over to them just in time.

He reached out and caught Shiozaki by the hand before he could fall off the apron. As he started to pull him back into the ring, Rika struck from behind, sending both of them teetering.

Nakajima could've let go of Shiozaki to save himself, but he held firm. His body strained against the ropes, Shiozaki's weight threatening to pull him over, too.

Then Rika hit him a second time, and this time Nakajima couldn't keep his footing. Rika hoisted him up and he went over the ropes, falling practically on top of Shiozaki in a double elimination.

"Boooo!" Mizuki said at her screen.

Shiozaki and Nakajima slowly sat up. They looked at each other a little sheepishly, then exited together, physically supporting each other as they walked out.

It was down to just Rika and Shoko.

Shoko put up a good fight, but Rika ultimately got the better of her.

As Mizuki watched the referee hold up Rika's hand in victory, she knew what was coming next.

Someone passed Rika a mic.

"Mizuki, please come out!" she said. "I have something to tell you."

Oh dear. This could go one of two ways.

Nakajima walked out, looking appropriately apprehensive. He entered the ring, but started backing away as soon as Rika took a step toward him.

"Actually, I have two things to tell you," she said. "The first is that I debuted together with Yuka, and we actually joined as trainees together, but I've yet to win that title. You won it before I did. Everyone else in this match—Yuka, Miyu, Shoko—they're all the faces of Tokyo Joshi Pro. And you're the champion. I'm the only one who's never won that belt."

Rika took a breath.

"But fuck all of that!" she yelled. "I was thrown in the ring with all these monsters and I survived! I'm going to win that belt and turn everything around! Let me challenge!"

Nakajima lifted up a mic.

"If that's it, then okay, fine, you can challenge," he said.

"No, there's one more thing! I'm going to have to put these feelings aside while we fight each other, but I want you to know that I love you."

Oh no. This was what Mizuki had feared.

Nakajima looked panicked. He didn't appear to have a response planned for this.

Rika continued. "Personally, I am going to view our championship match as a first date. But I want to have a proper date afterward, too. So after I win the title, we can go out together. I know the perfect place—"

"You can't do that! You can't add a date as a stipulation for a championship match!" Nakajima protested. "Besides, I'm already taken."

The crowd let out an illegal audible "ooh," at that.

"Then I will just have to win over your heart as well as your title during our match!" Rika announced.

"You're not going to win either of them!" Nakajima said.

He stuck his tongue out at her, then turned and left the ring.

"Korakuen Hall on January 4!" Rika called after him. "Remember that date! You won't want to forget our anniversary later!"

And on that note, the show went to intermission.

When they came back from the break, they kicked off the second half with an announcement.

Hyper Misao stepped into the ring. She talked about her debut, then about the Wrestle Princess show, and then she said, "I feel that this is the right moment, post-Tokyo-Dome-City-Hall, to retire."

Mizuki's heart plummeted.

"No!" she said. "Don't do this, Misao! Not right now, not when I can't be there to say goodbye."

She cried as Misao declared that she wanted Super Sasadango Machine for her opponent for her retirement match. Sasadango opened one of his trademark powerpoint presentations to describe his ideal stipulation for the match.

He announced that he'd prepared something for her called "Yamelorette Japan," which involved six wrestlers presenting gifts and haiku poems to Misao, the "Yamelorette," to attempt to win the honor of getting to be her retirement opponent.

Mizuki watched as Miyu, Shoko, Miu, and then Rika entered. Rika presented Misao with a slap instead of a gift, telling her, "I won't let you retire! I'm going to make you change your goddamn mind in the match! Choose me!"

The Bakuretsu Sisters were the last to enter. After they presented their gift—a song—Sasadango advised Misao to be completely sure that she wanted to retire. She held firm on her decision.

The six wrestlers then presented their haikus. Rika's was last: "Even in hell, I embraced even the pain. If you wanna end it, I will start it all over for you."

Mizuki cried. Why go after me so much, Rika? she thought. If you want to have a partner so badly, Misao will have you.

Misao chose Rika for her opponent. She got on the mic, but before she could tell them to ring the bell, Rika jumped her.

All the wrestlers came out from the back to watch the match. Mizuki spotted Nakajima and Shiozaki standing together and watching with rapt attention. She started crying harder, regretting that she couldn't be there.

Rika won the match. She always won their matches.

Afterward, Misao got back on the mic. She talked about her history in Tokyo Joshi Pro, and her insecurity that her style didn't belong in the promotion. She mentioned that her original plan for 2020 was to live the year to the fullest before she left, but then her plans to say goodbye to everyone fell apart.

She said that even though she lost her match today, she still loves wrestling, and she still loves Tokyo Joshi Pro. She thanked Sasadango for coming out for this match even though he has no relationship to the company.

Then she said, "But, I can't do it. I cannot quit yet. I quit quitting! Sorry, I'm not retiring!"

Mizuki jumped up and clapped her hands, narrowly avoiding dropping Nakajima's computer in her excitement.

"There is one other thing I wanted to announce after I made my retirement announcement," Misao said. "I was going to propose marriage to the person I love. Please get in the ring!"

Mizuki and all the wrestlers screamed.

Utashiro from the DDT Press Team walked out. Misao said that she was going to accept his proposal today after she retired, but she can't quit wrestling.

"I can't choose between you and wrestling," she said. "I know that if I don't choose one I might lose both, but I don't want to feel that I lost one because I chose the other. For me, dreams are something you chase without having to lose anything."

Utashiro gave Misao his answer by posting a press release on the official website.

Mizuki looked it up and started bawling. The announcement said that Misao will take back her retirement indefinitely until love and peace return to the world, and she will keep wrestling as Tokyo Joshi Pro's first ever married wrestler.

"Hyper Misao's gonna be greedy when it comes to dreams," Misao said. "You should live that way, too."

Mizuki woke up the next morning, on the 21st, in a weird mood. She had just one more day until Noah's 20th Anniversary show. She still didn't know about what she was going to do about her match with Yuka.

Nakajima called her when she was in the middle of washing dishes. Mizuki dried off her hands, then picked up the phone.

"You watched the show last night, yes?" he said. "Holy fuck."

She listened as he talked about the show for a few minutes.

"I wish I could've been there for Misao's moment," Mizuki said. "But I'm tired of saying that. I want to be back in my own life. I want to be home."

She let out a breath.

"And I know I promised you that I would hate Yuka for your title match, but I don't want to do it. I'm afraid that if I do, I'm going to lose her. I want to be like Misao; I want my dreams to come true without having to sacrifice anything."

He was quiet on his end.

"I think you and Sakazaki are stronger than that," Nakajima said. "You're stronger than us."

Mizuki opened her mouth to object, but then he continued.

"Did you ever learn why we decided to call ourselves Axiz?"

"Yes. Shiozaki told me," Mizuki admitted. "It's because an axis is the center of things, and the two of you wanted to be at the center of Noah."

"I'd wondered if you'd been talking to him," Nakajima mused.

"I haven't talked to him a lot, but we've had a few conversations. He was very helpful when you were not."

"Yeah, that's Go." He spoke with open fondness in his voice.

Mizuki smiled.

"But my point in bringing this up is that even though Axiz failed, I think that could still be you and Sakazaki. It's rare for a wrestler to be strong in both the singles division and the tag team division. Rarer still for two wrestlers to be able to carry both. But I think you can do it."

Mizuki started to tear up.

"Wait, are you crying?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, sniffling.

He seemed to genuinely not know what to say in response.

"It doesn't have to be like this," Mizuki said. "You don't have to pass the torch onto me so that I can live the dream you didn't get to have."

She wiped her eyes.

"You could be with him again, you know. You could have what you have right now in my life, but for real."

He sighed. "It's not—"

"I know it's not easy!" Mizuki interrupted. "It's hard, and it's scary, but you don't have to do it alone."

She took a breath.

"The truth is, I'm terrified of wrestling your match the way you want me to. I'll do it if you ask me to, because I made a promise, but I don't share your confidence that my relationship with Yuka will survive it. Even if I manage to win the title, I might lose everything else."

Mizuki closed her eyes.

"And winning the title isn't worth that to me," she said. "Is it truly worth it for you?"

He didn't answer.

"If you give me permission, we can fix it. We can fix your life." And maybe fix mine in the process, too, she thought.

Nakajima finally spoke.

"Fine," he said after a long exhale. "You can try to fix it."

Mizuki cheered.

"You can't cry after the match, though."

"That's not fair! You got to cry after mine!"

"Because that's what you would do! I wouldn't cry."

"Why not?"

He had no response to that.

Mizuki took a breath, gathering her determination.

"I'm going to do it," she said. "I'm going to go out there and wrestle your match with love, and I'm going to win that title. I'm going to show everyone that I can do it."

Her fingers curled into a fist.

"I just hope it's not too late for me and Yuka," she finished.

"Hey, I put all of this effort into keeping your relationship alive," Nakajima said. "Now it's up to you to make sure that there's even a relationship to come back to."

When Mizuki woke up the next morning, she was still in Nakajima's body. For once, she felt relieved about this. As long as she had this chance to fix things, she wasn't ready yet to go back to her own life.

She spent the hours leading up to the show in an unusual state of calm.

While she was preparing for her match, her phone lit up with a text. She picked it up, then opened the message.

It was a selfie from Nakajima. He sat in the crowd in the venue.

And sitting next to him, leaning into his personal space so that they could snap the photo, was Shiozaki.

Both of them were grinning at the camera and doing their poses.

"Good luck," said Nakajima's text below it.

Mizuki gazed at the photo for a long moment, smiling softly. Then she set the phone aside and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

A few minutes later, she was waiting to make her entrance.

Nakajima's theme started to play. Mizuki reached out and swept through the curtains.

She stood at the entrance for a moment, the fog machines hissing beside her, drowned out by the music. Then she started to walk.

As the music faded, Mizuki perched up on the turnbuckle.

Shiozaki's theme started. Mizuki didn't look at Yuka as she entered. But then Yuka stood directly across from her, and the hood was not enough to block out the sight of her.

Yuka stared at her while she removed her belt and handed it to the referee. The ref carried it over to Mizuki, but Mizuki just held Yuka's gaze instead of looking at the belt.

It was too much. Mizuki had to turn away for a moment, steeling herself before she could look at her again.

When she finally turned around, the bell rang, and the match began.

Once again, the two of them stared at each other.

This was a different Yuka than the person Mizuki had fought before. This was Yuka the Champion, putting aside her personal feelings to carry this company. Even though this wasn't Yuka's own promotion, she had accepted the weight of it just the same.

As the challenger, Mizuki carried no such burden. She could feel as freely as she wanted.

They circled each other in a familiar dance. Yuka reached up, and Mizuki brushed her fingers against Yuka's, but didn't take her hand. Mizuki sent her a couple of Nakajima's playful kicks, but Yuka just shrugged them off without reacting.

When Mizuki once again wiggled her fingers just out of Yuka's grasp, Yuka got fed up with her and shoved her across the ring until Mizuki's back was against the ropes.

Yuka reached up like she was about to chop her, then reconsidered, lowering her arm down to her side.

They stared at each other, unmoving.

Eventually, Yuka took a step back, but did not break the stare. She backed up further, and the crowd applauded.

Mizuki decided, then, that she was done waiting for the match to start. She hit Yuka again, and this time it was in earnest. The exchange didn't last long, though, before Mizuki slid out of the ring. She understood why Nakajima felt more comfortable out here. There was refuge in the shadows.

She paced around the ring for a bit, walking past the other members of Kongoh, who had come out to second her for this match. All of them were present except for Kenoh, who sat at the commentary desk. Mizuki exchanged a look with him as she rounded the corner. She wondered what he was saying about her.

Yuka called out Nakajima's name from where she stood at the center of the ring. She wasn't willing to join Mizuki on the outside.

Finally, Mizuki gave up on trying. She rolled back into the ring, and they went back to circling each other.

Can I get the Yuka who is not Champion to come out? Mizuki wondered. She played with Yuka a bit, trying to provoke her.

Yuka rewarded her efforts with a chop to the chest that brought Mizuki down.

Mizuki fought back, and she managed to get Yuka at her mercy in the corner. Mizuki stared down at her for a moment. If this were any other match, this was when Nakajima would torment his opponent with Shutter Chance.

Not today, Mizuki thought. She grabbed Yuka and dragged her away from the turnbuckle pad.

The fight moved to the apron. Mizuki came down hard onto the ground. She lay there for a long moment, clutching the back of her head, feeling the worried presence of Kongoh gather around her as the referee started to count.

She made it into the ring before the count hit twenty.

Yuka walked over and tried to lift her up, but Mizuki resisted, pushing her away. Yuka kept a firm grasp on her, though, and Mizuki struggled to her feet, dazed from the blow on the apron.

Mizuki noticed that Yuka was already wincing from pain. It hadn't even been ten minutes since the start of the match.

She landed a solid kick on Yuka, and Yuka rolled out of the ring.

Mizuki joined her outside. Both of them were hurting, now. They fought as the referee started the count once again. Yuka tried to chop her, and Mizuki ducked out of the way just in time for Yuka's hand to slam into the hard metal of the ring post instead.

Yuka yelled out, clutching her arm. Mizuki hated the part of herself that saw this as an opportunity to take advantage of.

She slid Yuka into the ring, then rolled in after her. Mizuki kicked her a few times, then tossed her back out and leapt through the ropes after her. They started to fight again on the outside, and Mizuki dragged Yuka over to the section of railing where Kenoh sat.

Without thinking, Mizuki grabbed Yuka's arm and started to twist it. Yuka screamed with pain, and it jolted Mizuki back to herself.

Mizuki glanced up and met Kenoh's gaze.

She grinned at him, then very deliberately let go of Yuka's arm, stepping away from her. An expression of confused uncertainty flashed against Kenoh's face.

This wasn't what Nakajima would do. But Mizuki was going to win his match a different way.

She had to prove to Nakajima that she could win with love, that this was possible in his world, too. She didn't have to throw away her relationship in order to win. She didn't have to destroy Yuka's already injured body in order to defeat her.

Yuka retaliated quickly. The cost of Mizuki's mercy.

Back in the ring, Mizuki kicked her a few times, then dared Yuka to chop her. When Yuka struck her chest, the force of the chop stung, but Yuka winced from it more than Mizuki did, holding her arm. Damage from the ring post coming due.

Hit me again, Mizuki thought, grinning at her. I want to see you. The real you, not the Champion.

Yuka hit her with another chop. Again, she clutched at her arm afterward.

By the third chop, there was a clear fire in her, though it still lay beneath a guarded exterior.

Fifteen minutes had passed. The match felt like it had barely begun.

Yuka managed to rally, and Mizuki found herself trapped in the corner as Yuka rained down machine gun chops on her chest. With each chop, Yuka seemed more and more immune to the pain in her own arm.

Then Yuka hit her with a lariat, taking her down. Yuka moved to cover her, but Mizuki kicked out before three without a problem. Yuka's fishermen buster afterward wasn't enough to do it, either.

You're going to have to try harder than that, Mizuki thought.

The pace picked up. Mizuki went for a pin attempt of her own after one of her kicks laid out Yuka, but Yuka lifted her shoulder after two. When Mizuki tried to hit Nakajima's Vertical Spike on her, Yuka shrugged it off completely, countering with a lariat that sent Mizuki's world spinning.

Neither of them could find the strength to cover the other after that.

The sound of the crowd's coordinated claps rose to a frenzy, encouraging both of them to keep going.

Mizuki and Yuka stared at each other as they slowly got to their feet. This time, they both wore a grimace of pain and determination.

Yuka struck Mizuki with a thunderous chop.

Mizuki responded with a kick.

Yuka with another chop, Mizuki with a kick, each move a question and an answer.

I love you, Mizuki thought, hissing in pain each time Yuka's struck her chest, the impact of each chop echoing throughout the building.

Yuka yelled out "Nakajima!" and spread her arms, inviting another kick.

Mizuki looked up at her and slowly rose. The two of them touched foreheads, then Mizuki shoved her away and landed the promised kick. Both of them were getting more desperate, now. Yuka administered her chops with a wide-eyed stare, her teeth bared in a grimace. Mizuki's world narrowed down to just kicks punctuated by stinging pain.

She yelled Shiozaki's name, and Yuka hit her so hard, it took everything Mizuki had in her to stay upright.

The pace of the exchange increased. Kick, then chop, then kick, then chop.

It was an Endless Love without anyone between them.

Mizuki was determined to outlast Yuka, and she could see a matching determination in Yuka's eyes as they fought.

It ended with both of them on their backs.

They got to their feet. Mizuki hit Yuka with a couple kicks, but Yuka countered her Vertical Spike into a Go Flasher. Yuka practically lay on top of her to cover her, already exhausted from the fight. Mizuki fought past her own exhaustion to kick out before three.

Several minutes passed. Mizuki got the upper hand, then Yuka took it back from her.

Mizuki lay on her back as Yuka ascended to the top of the turnbuckle. Yuka leapt off of it in one of Shiozaki's rare moonsaults, and Mizuki lifted up her knees to counter the move.

As Yuka writhed in pain, Mizuki slowly sat up, grinning.

She had the advantage again. But Yuka dodged out of the way before Mizuki could land her devastating kick to the skull, and it took a few slaps and a high kick for Mizuki to bring her down.

The referee went to check on Yuka, holding Mizuki back.

As Yuka struggled to get to her feet, Mizuki hit her with another kick, and she crumpled onto the canvas.

Mizuki rolled Yuka onto her back and straddled her. She lifted up Yuka's head and raised her elbow to strike, then just froze, staring down at her.

The part of Mizuki that she shared with Nakajima wanted to brutalize Yuka here. She's at your mercy, said that part of her. You could win right here, if you wanted to.

Mizuki shook her head. No. I'm not going to win like that. She let go of Yuka, then stepped off of her.

Yuka rolled to the side. She still wore that look of bitter determination.

She clutched at Mizuki's knee pads, trying to pull herself up. Mizuki just reached down and tugged Yuka to her feet. She held onto her for a moment longer than necessary, her arms wrapped around her, letting her own body support Yuka's entire weight.

When their eyes met after that, Yuka looked completely disarmed.

Mizuki lifted her up into the Vertical Spike. It was the same move that Nakajima had betrayed Shiozaki with, the same move that Mizuki had used to defeat Yuka a couple weeks ago.

As she held Yuka suspended in the air, Mizuki thought, I have to win, because I have to heal what has been broken.

She brought Yuka down onto the mat, then moved to cover her, hooking her leg and leaning all of her weight back on Yuka.

But at the last second, Yuka kicked out.

Mizuki sat there, stunned. How could that not be enough? How did Yuka have any energy left in her? She got to her feet and tried to lift Yuka up again, but Yuka struggled free from her grasp and rallied with a suplex.

They stood face to face.

Yuka faced her now with her emotions completely stripped bare. In her expression was hurt and sorrow and anger and desperate longing all mixed together. The Champion was there, too, but that aspect of her had finally been pushed aside.

Yuka hit Mizuki with a lariat, and when that didn't work, she headed for the turnbuckle.

Yuka launched into another moonsault. Her body came down on top of Mizuki, but she rolled off before the referee could count the pin, in too much pain to make the cover.

By the time Yuka made it back over to attempt the pin again, Mizuki was able to summon the willpower to lift up her shoulder.

Keeping her momentum, Yuka hit Mizuki with a lariat, and then another, and then a Gowan Lariat that turned Mizuki completely around.

Mizuki barely managed to locate the edge of the ring and get her foot up onto the ropes, breaking the pin.

No. It can't end like this, Mizuki thought, breathing in the scent of the canvas where her face was pressed against it.

Yuka pulled her upright. They stared at each other, and both of them were simply too exhausted to be anyone other than who they were. Mizuki no longer wore Nakajima's grin. She just gazed into Yuka's eyes and let her own emotions show.

Yuka raised her arm, but paused before she hit the Gowan Lariat again, caught up in Mizuki's stare.

Her hesitation was just enough for Mizuki to duck out of the way when Yuka tried to execute the move.

Yuka stumbled forward, and Mizuki grabbed her.

She lifted her up once again into the Vertical Spike. Her tired arms strained beneath Yuka's weight.

Mizuki brought her down. Then she crawled over and collapsed on top of Yuka in her exhaustion.

She could feel Yuka's heartbeat pounding against her own as the referee's hand slammed down onto the canvas.

It wasn't until Nakajima's theme started playing that Mizuki realized it was over. She'd won.

She stayed on top of Yuka, unwilling to let go of her, feeling too weak to move.

The members of Kongoh filed into the ring, surrounding them both. Nioh and Haoh tried to help Mizuki move, but she weakly shoved them away, clinging to Yuka.

With Kongoh forming a protective wall around them, shielding them from the crowd, from the world, from everything else, Mizuki gazed down at Yuka.

Yuka reached up and touched Mizuki's face, gently wiping a tear away with her finger. Then Yuka's hand fell back down beside her.

Mizuki remembered her promise to Nakajima, that she wouldn't cry.

She closed her eyes and rolled off of Yuka. The two of them lay beside each other and just breathed together.

Someone pressed ice against Mizuki's skin, and she accepted it gratefully, letting the biting cold take away some of the pain.

They tried to help Yuka move away so that she could be tended to separately, but Mizuki reached out and grabbed her wrist, refusing to be parted.

Kongoh got the message. They took care of Yuka, too.

Someone came into the ring. Mizuki turned her head and saw that it was Sugiura and Sakuraba.

Kenoh stepped in Sugiura's path, preventing him from getting any closer to Mizuki.

"What the fuck do you want?" Kenoh asked.

Sakuraba walked up and stared down at Kenoh's waist, where his GHC National belt belonged, had Kenoh been wearing it. Kiyomiya had failed to capture the title in his match earlier in the show.

Kenoh reached for a mic.

Mizuki listened without paying too much attention as Kenoh accepted Sakuraba's challenge for his title.

Sugiura took the mic from Sakuraba and lifted it to his mouth, gazing at Mizuki.

"Congratulations, champion," he said.

Mizuki slowly got to her feet. The referee handed the GHC Heavyweight title to her, and she accepted it with disbelief.

She listened in a daze as Sugiura challenged her for the title that she'd just won. Nakajima's title.

Mizuki grabbed a mic. "I was hoping you'd be the first to challenge," she said. "You and I have unfinished business." She gave him one of Nakajima's most malicious grins.

After Sugiura left, Mizuki turned around.

Yuka lay at the other side of the ring.

Mizuki walked toward her. She held up the mic and just breathed into it for a long moment, gathering her thoughts, preparing what she was about to say.

"Go," she started, looking at Yuka. "I wouldn't be standing here right now if it weren’t for you. If we hadn't teamed together as Axiz. I tried to let go of you because I thought that's what I needed to do to surpass you. But I couldn't do it. Today, I won not on my own, not as part of Kongoh, but as part of Axiz."

A murmur of shock went through the crowd, even though they weren't supposed to speak.

Mizuki met Yuka's eyes. "I'm sorry," she said.

She tossed the mic aside, then reached out toward Yuka, offering her a hand.

Yuka gazed up at her. Then, slowly, she reached up and took Mizuki's hand.

Mizuki helped her to her feet. She slung an arm around her, keeping her upright.

Mizuki didn't try to say anything else to the crowd, because she knew that if she did, her fragile control would break, and she would start to cry.

She and Yuka walked out together.

Backstage, as Mizuki and Yuka walked past, an interviewer tried to ask, "Does this mean that you have left Kongoh?" but Mizuki just gave him a smirk and said nothing. That question would be for Nakajima to answer.

They made it to the locker room, and both of them just laid down on the floor for several minutes, breathing there in silence.

Finally, when she had recuperated enough to talk, Mizuki sat up.

Yuka sat up, too.

They both sat in the corner, leaning against the wall.

"I'm sorry," Mizuki repeated. "I'm so, so sorry, Yuka."

All of the tears she'd held back came forth now. Mizuki started to sob, trying not to make too much noise.

Yuka was crying, too.

Then Mizuki turned toward her, and Yuka scooted closer, and they were embracing.

"I love you so much," Mizuki murmured. "I never hated you, and I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know," Yuka said. "I love you, too."

"It's so hard, being someone else," Mizuki said, as Yuka shook with tears in her arms. "But I think it's okay now. I think I finally got him to understand."

Yuka pulled away from her a little.

"I'm not sorry that I won your title, though," Mizuki admitted. "Or Shiozaki's title, I guess."

Yuka shook her head. "It stings that I lost, but I'm glad you didn't hold back. And I don't think he minds this result too much, considering what else you did for him out there. Did Nakajima really agree to that?"

Mizuki nodded.

"Maybe he has changed," Yuka said, thoughtfully.

"I suppose we'll just have to wait and see if any of it lasts," Mizuki said. "The part that I did for him is the easy part. The one that comes next is a lot harder."

When Mizuki and Yuka left the building, there were two people waiting for them outside.

Nakajima and Shiozaki stood up as soon as Mizuki and Yuka approached.

The four of them stared at each other for a long moment, not quite knowing how to react. This was the first time they had all gathered in the same place.

Nakajima was the first to move. He walked over to Mizuki and threw his arms around her, hugging her tight.

"You did it, champ," he said.

Mizuki embraced him back. It felt very strange to be hugging her own body. She just closed her eyes and let it happen, sinking into the sense of deep relief that washed over her.

Suddenly, she started to feel very dizzy. She let go of Nakajima and stepped back. Her vision went dark, and it felt like the whole world was moving around her.

The feeling passed. Mizuki's eyes blinked open.

When she glanced up, she found herself looking at the face she'd seen every day in the mirror for the past month and a half.

It had finally happened. They'd swapped back.

Nakajima grinned. He reached out and cupped Mizuki's face in his hand for a moment, then he tweaked her nose and laughed. Mizuki slapped his hand away, giving him an annoyed frown.

Still laughing, he pulled her into another hug. This one felt a lot more normal. Mizuki wrapped her arms around him in return, overcome by a sudden sense of giddiness.

When they let go of each other, they found Yuka and Shiozaki staring at them.

"Did you...?" Mizuki started.

"Yes," Yuka said.

And, oh, it felt so good to hear Yuka's own voice again, to see her expressions on her own face.

Mizuki walked over to her and they embraced. Mizuki laid her head on Yuka's shoulder and Yuka's hand came up and stroked her hair, and Mizuki wanted so badly to kiss her. She wanted that to be okay. But there would be time to do that later, after they'd had a chance to talk.

They parted, and Yuka reached out and grabbed Mizuki's hand, gripping her tight.

Mizuki turned to look at Nakajima. He and Shiozaki stood a few paces away, facing each other.

"Can I just forgive you?" Shiozaki asked desperately.

Nakajima nodded.

Shiozaki reached up and placed his hands around the back of Nakajima's head. He pressed their foreheads together, closing his eyes.

Nakajima touched Shiozaki's face, then he tilted his chin up and kissed him.

Shiozaki kissed him back. It was a long kiss, and Mizuki started to get embarrassed just watching them, though she also wanted to say "aww."

Yuka tugged at Mizuki, gently urging her to leave.

As they started to walk away, Nakajima held out his hand. Mizuki stared at it for a second, then reached out and gave him a high five as she passed by.