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Survivor Series had arrived -- a date on the calander for Hiro Shin-Mozas he'd been waiting for. Hiro, in the back of his mind, felt as though if he made it to Survivor Series after returning at Wrestlemania earlier in the year that he could consider his body once again his own. He'd taken so much damage throughout his return and yet could still walk, could still feel his arms and legs...and his nose had suffered only minimal damage, of course. There was reason to celebrate life for the Ethnic Enigma, and yet, as he was forced to sneak his way into the arena tonight due to Cartwright's ban on Japanese-Cubans. Go figure, it was almost as if the wrestling business wanted nothing to do with him anymore at this point. Hiro would skulk around backstage, not booked for action tonight obviously and not trying to run into Cartwright just so he'd be forced out again. His body had healed from his interaction with Nuke Fusion, the top rope Deific Effect doing massive damage but thankfully not sending Hiro right back into retirement. There hadn't been any Blackjack sightings of late either, Hiro spending time at home with merely his own recurring nightmares as opposed to the living one of veiled threats through the mail via Blackjack's constant blade sending.

The Ethnic Enigma made his way to the empty cattering area, taking a seat at a table and leaning back. He closed his eyes, tired from all the sneaking around. At this point, if Cartwright found him and threw him out, at least he could grab a bite before he left. It seemed this would be an uneventful night without action for Hiro...but as he closed his eyes and started to decompress...he could hear a hissing noise. No, it wasn't air escaping his spine or a gas leak preparing to explode. It was different...loud in his head, reverberating through his ear drums. The sound of a snake that was too close to stop. Hiro began to sweat, a fear of snakes developing recently due to a series of psychological episodes he'd been dealing with since his loss to Nuke Fusion at No Mercy. It seemed that most other people weren't seeing what he was, but to the Ethnic Enigma these near-tragedies were quite real. The sweat would pour down his face and his eyes would cling shut tightly. He gulped and tried to ignore the growing sound but to no true success as his eyes flung open and his body shifted, turning around and ready to fight or take off running.

Hiro was immediately embarrassed as a child seemed to be making the noise he mistook as the slithering of some sort of snake -- in reality, her shoes dragging across the ground with every step she took. He didn't recognize her at all, and was unaware anyone on the roster even had kids they brought with them to work, let alone let them have the run of the place. He looked at her puzzled, but then her father appeared. Hiro's heart stopped in place for a moment as his eyes were drew to the man he knew as a "Copperhead", Salem Croft. It was a snake after all, but the memories that came with Salem's appearance were what truly packed the venom. Hiro got up slowly from his seat, the young girl still plowing her way through the buffet table momentarilly oblivious to the interaction behind her, a near decade in the making. Hiro gulped as he stepped within a few feet of Salem, his eyes shifting as if not to make complete contact with his once close friend and confidant.

Hiro would have liked to say hello, then and there. He would have liked to give Salem a hug, meet his daughter -- congratulate him on what he'd accomplished in WWF:G of late, as well as join him in admonishing the general manager. However, much like Salem was wearing a conflicted look on his face, Hiro was wearing on of fear. A look of angst, a feeling of disgust. The last time Salem and Hiro were together in each others presence was in a Bad Blood Wrestling ring. Salem Croft defending his first major world championship against the down-on-his-luck, maligned journeyman who was given the ultimate opportunity by Matt Shanahan: a shot at the BBW Championship. The two gave one another hell, and by the end of it Hiro had defeated Salem to become the man at the top of the company. The problem was with Hiro, who on that night became a puppet in the most devious and destructive ruse ever perpetrated in the pursuit of a world championship. While Salem had driven staple after staple into Hiro's face and left him a mess, Hiro through the intervention of Ryan Killman and a knife bestowed upon him by his tormentor Blackjack embraced the hate long enough to become the BBW World Champion.

Now, for the first time since that night when a friendship ended and a reborn Devil stepped first foot to a bloody playground, the two faced one another...and said nothing. Hiro couldn't muscle out a sound through a tightened throat and spinning stomach. He'd spent so much time since his return looking to go to people and tell them he forgave them. Nuke Fusion, Cartwright, the Marauders, he was trying to brush away a past of pain and mistakes that continued to follow him. This was just the next track of the album. Hiro gulped once again. He looked at the little girl to the side now beginning to build up a second plate. His palms were sweaty, and yet even then, he raised his hand out and to an audience of one offered Salem Croft a silent handshake.

Hiro would cringe as Salem told him to put his hand down, to which the Ethnic Enigma quickly complied. The sound of Kyra, which was a pretty name Hiro thought, scampering away was distracting for all of a second as Salem started to verbally thrash Hiro, spitting truth at him that Hiro knew all too well but still struggled to deal with coming from Croft. It had all been about those that wronged him, but now he was standing extremely close to the one person he most wronged and never apologized to face to face in any sort of proper way. Salem, in reality, was right -- after Hiro had won the BBW Championship and subsequently lost it to Blackjack, he did dig himself deep into a hole. A run in EWA continuing to embrace the hate while then cleaning that whole act up for his legendary feud with Freakshow in WWF:G that culiminated in a Wrestlemania main event victory -- but perhaps along the way to enlightenment he really did do all the things Salem claimed. It was when "Showtime" concluded his beat-down that Hiro gulped down a lump in his throat so he could say what he wanted to say.



Hiro yanked on his shirt, pulling it up enough to show the scar he had in his back from where Blackjack had stabbed him very similar to the way Hiro stabbed Salem. An eye for an eye, but it never makes a wrong a right. The scar was red, and just revealing it, just acknowledging it, it caused an aching feeling Hiro that had always been close behind when Blackjack was brought up. You haven't even begun to bleed. The words that Blackjack screamed at Hiro, and the same words that Hiro thought to himself as he jammed the blade into Salem during their title match.

Hiro stayed quiet as Cartwright appeared, keeping his composure despite the fact that it was more than just bigotry that was turning Cart against him -- his former confidant and the man in charge of the company simply didn't appreciate the fact that he'd been unable to win a match. He and Salem would shoot back at one another, a match being made between Hiro and Salem for tonight...Salem Says, one Hiro had never been involved in prior. There wasn't an issue with competing tonight, not in Hiro's mind; he had wanted to work a match for the longest time now, his loss to Nuke only compounding further feelings of despair over his career. The fact that it would be against Salem though, that was unexpected. What made things worse, and made Hiro visually cringe, was that Cartwright reiterated the fact that if Salem lost he'd be out of a job. Hiro had been forced to leave WWF:G before, but back then there were other places to work. Now, the landscape of professional wrestling was very different and being out of the job here can really screw you over...Salem had a child now, and while he could rely on his family perhaps to get him by, Hiro wasn't sure he could put Salem out of a job like this.

Though, that feeling was brushed aside quickly when Cartwright threatened his job as well. Hiro wasn't ready to give everything up, not yet. He also knew there was no chance Salem would ever forgive him if he refused this fight. Hiro shook his head as Cartwright pantamimed handing over the pink slip. The Ethnic Enigma thought over the situation if just for a moment, the stress he's been under, the past chasing him, the looming threat of Blackjack who was never really gone no matter what prison held him, and the thought that it was becoming harder and harder to be the man Hiro hoped he'd remain being forever. Hiro would push past Cartwright and begin his trek to the locker room. He had a match tonight.