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Austin and Colten had disappeared again and Jay was actually thankful.
He didn't have it in him to put on that front right now. That mask. The motherfucking Switchblade. His anchor and his shield. At least, this night had ended in victory instead of failure. Full Gear had been nothing other than failure. An opportunity to prove that he was still himself in spite of everything that he had lost. In a ring that might not ever feel like it was right and in an environment that still looked just a little wrong to his eyes. A title his heart was trying to learn to dream about slung over his shoulder.
And he had lost.
The easiest of chances right there for the taking and he had failed.
Jay couldn't dwell on it. He just couldn't. It was yet another failure and he had too much experience with those. The biggest stage and the brightest lights and the painful losses. A tournament, though? He knew that. A familiar cadence even if it wasn't quite on beat. But stupid, sentimental Jamie had reached out - twice - and touched the one title that represented the home he had forever lost.
Maybe it was his opponent.
Maybe if it had been anyone else, he would have been able to keep his heart hidden away like it belonged. But Rush represented something far more dangerous than a man capable of chopping his chest into hamburger. He had something Jay had always wanted more than any title. The White Bull was familia. He mattered to Naito.
There was nothing more difficult than climbing out of bed after one of those nights when he dreamed of gentle moments with Tetsuya Naito that could never be. Even now. Even so far away. His heart still yearned and there was a part of Jay that hoped it never stopped. That he always felt like this. That no matter how broken and shattered his heart and soul became, he still knew how to love Naito, even if it was the only true feeling that remained.
And it had felt like Rush knew that that connection he had to Naito was something that held weight to him. That he understood that when Jay looked at him, he saw an extended fist and tranquilo and a playful smirk. Of course, he had taunted him with it but it didn't feel malicious. Or at least Jay didn't think it had. He had no idea if he could trust his senses anymore - something else he could never explain to anyone. Were his instincts still right or did nothing translate here?
So much doubt and ache and longing.
Almost too much to endure but he had held onto it for years and there would be no reprieve.
It would make sense to be in a locker room. Bullet Club Gold had one assigned to them, tucked away and small. Lesser. The Switchblade wanted to holler and complain but Jay knew they didn't deserve anything better. What had they truly done? What had he proven other than failure? He needed to get over this. Push it all away and carve himself up yet again. New scars and missing pieces but another step forward nonetheless.
But four walls that close would be too claustrophobic right now. Those spaces were still too unfamiliar and Jay wondered how much longer before his eyes stopped seeing what used to be. El Phantasmo elbowing him in the side as he told another improbable but probably true story about his latest escapade. Gedo giving him some sort of encouragement, even if he still had no idea whether or not any of it had ever been genuine. Bullet Club's locker room had never been comfortable. The Bang Bang Lounge was far more real. Yet he still didn't know how to trust it. He liked Austin and Juice and Colten but maybe he had never really known how to make friends. That part of him was probably forever lost too.
One more deep breath as he sat on top of this production crate - his wrist tape in a discarded pile on the concrete floor. One more exhale and then it was time to get moving again. There would be another match next week and there were empty days in between to fill. A title to win that could perhaps find some sort of value if it was held in his hands. Maybe he'd call himself the Real Belt Collector again. He knew that mask too, after all. Especially since there was no point in repeatedly saying that it was his era when he couldn't hold onto anything.
Stupid, sentimental Jamie knew that holding an NJPW title again might be the only way he could ever go home. That it was a key for a door he had locked behind himself through yet another failure. That maybe… just maybe… he could see Naito with his own eyes just one more time but that was for the Jay that still dreamed.
One breath at a time.
But he was no longer alone.
Rush was standing on the other side of the hallway. His expression was serious but not menacing. The Switchblade wanted to sneer but Jay was too tired. His body ached and enduring another beating was more than he could handle right now. Repeatedly exchanging chops like that was going to make his chest ache for days. Risky and stupid. But he hadn't been able to stop himself. To think it through. The Young Lion he had once been couldn't ignore the urge to prove his fighting spirit. To know one familiar thing. To feel like he was home, even if it was just for a moment.
Jay knew exactly how he had won that match - that urge to win at any cost could never be pushed aside because victories meant he might be seen by the only pair of eyes he dreamed about might finally see him. Prove that he was enough after all. And maybe Rush was here for revenge. Was one of those ever-present cameras hovering just out of view?
"Sorry about your balls."
He still had his words. His voice, even though he was still adjusting to speaking to a crowd that understood him. But Rush just smirked in a way that was so, so close to Naito that his heart tried to scream.
"No, you're not." He was right and Jay could only wince. Maybe he shouldn't have been thankful for the Gunns' disappearing act after all. "Mi hermano said you were clever."
For a moment, the words hung in the air between them as his brain tried to understand exactly what Rush had said.
Mi hermano.
My brother.
Naito.
There was no mask that could hide away how his whole body had started to tremble. Jay hoped Rush couldn't read his eyes because they had to be a mirror right now.
Naito.
Naito had spoken of him. It was such a small and insignificant thing. He had no idea how old the words were or what had been said. But Naito had thought of him for even a single moment and it was only all of those years of painful practice that kept a smile from showing.
"Yeah?"
A single word - practically incoherent - but Jay couldn't form any true thought. Couldn't take a single breath.
"We spoke a few hours ago." That was one hell of coincidence. Maybe that familia had regular phone calls. "He talked about you."
No matter the years of pain and practice, Jay couldn't keep his eyes open. Couldn't stop them from squeezing shut as his knees drew up toward his chest. His arms wrapped around them as if he was trying to become as small as possible. It was pathetic but he had been so very pathetic these past few days. What was one more thing? One more failure.
But Naito thought of him and now his heart wanted to implode. He wasn't a temporary and forgotten thing in his memory. He had spoken of him to someone that mattered to him and it felt as if he existed again. Like Jay White was once again real. Rush was probably thinking so many terrible things but he would care about that tomorrow. All of his distance and Naito still remembered him.
He couldn't possibly care about him but he hadn't forgotten him and it felt like a gift he could never deserve. How could he when he gambled away every new moment they could have with his own frustrations? How could he when he couldn't go home?
"Tonto…"
Jay knew more Spanish than he could ever admit but his brain refused to translate. Yet he couldn't respond either. He couldn't even lift his head. It felt too heavy like the weight of everything he had lost was pressing down on top of him. But he felt Rush take a few steps closer before backing away again.
"If you don't do something with that, I'll hit you even harder next time, perro."
Footsteps echoed until he was all alone again. But it was still a few more deep breaths before he could open his eyes and look. On the crate beside him was a piece of paper with something written on it. His trembling fingers picked it up and Jay could swear the paper burned his skin. A sequence of numbers in a pattern that was as familiar as everything else he had left behind.
A Japanese phone number.
Naito.
—
Jay didn't call the number that night in his hotel room but he saved it in his phone - the paper folded away and kept close like a talisman.
—
Three days later, he stared up at a clear night sky. Insomnia was an old companion at this point. He knew the calculation and the calendar by heart. Knew what time it was in Tokyo. His call wouldn't be a nuisance except for his own identity. Naito couldn't possibly want to hear from him, even if he did remember him. Why would he answer? Why would he look at a strange number and decide it was worth his time?
—
Three hours later, he was still wide awake and even lonelier somehow.
The phone rang once before Jay hung up.
—
Tomorrow was another airport and another trip to an arena that he didn't know. Another step forward on this crooked path. But he couldn't stop pulling his phone out and letting his fingers hover that one number.
Naito.
This time, it rang twice before there was an oddly familiar grunt on the other end. A distracted and disinterested sound. A brief shout of background noise that he knew. Too much. That voice that he can still hear perfectly in his dreams started to speak - a single syllable - and Jay just couldn't hear that dismissal.
His phone landed on top of his half-packed luggage with a thud.
—
The hotel bed was reasonably comfortable and his ear buds were charged. One phone call. One more loss to endure. He had another match tomorrow and he needed to remember who he was, even if it was all a lie. Maybe this time, he would come out stronger on the other side.
The phone rang just once.
"Don't hang up."
Naito's voice sounded almost frantic and it was wrong yet still beautiful somehow. But his own voice was gone. Jay didn't know how to reply. How to respond with anything other than a sob. But his heart could make a tiny noise of affirmation - something loud enough for Naito to hear.
And that was that satisfied and pleased hum of his. Jay knew that sound too. Had heard it as they pushed against each other and that mask slipped ever-so-slightly.
"Rush finally told me he gave you my number."
Each one of Naito's words was almost impossibly gentle as if he was afraid that the wrong note and he would be speaking to silence. He was probably right but there was a sweetness in it that Jay just wasn't used to. His eyes squeezed closed even tighter despite how he couldn't remember shutting them. Wherever Naito was, it was quiet. The only sounds were their breathing - somehow in sync.
"Jay…"
He could remember the exact way Naito's face looked when he said his name like that. Like it was something precious and important. Like he mattered to Naito in that way he refused to stop dreaming about. Just as impossible as that gentleness. But he was staying with him through the silence. Not hanging up and abandoning him.
His heart still remembered how to hope, after all.
One deep breath.
"Naito…" His own voice trembled but it was the responding noise of sheer delight in return that mattered. It sounded like a home he had yet to know. "... hello."
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