Haven't made one of these posts in a while, huh?
This match was from the 5th Michinoku Pro show during Golden Week, on May 6th of this year.
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A lot of folks were thrown off when it was announced that MIRAI's home promotion would become Michinoku Pro, after she left Marigold. The decision made plenty of sense for her, though. She's said in the past that she never planned on being in pro wrestling for that much longer, and Michinoku Pro is based in her home prefecture, Iwate. What better way to ride off into the sunset than to settle down near home, while also being able to take bookings elsewhere at any point?
One thing does seem to be for certain: the MIRAI presented in other promotions is not the same MIRAI presented in MPro. It's not like she's always winning in SEAdLINNNG, TJPW, or even JTO, but it still seems like a big deal whenever she shows up in those places and she still looks strong regardless of the result. Yet, in Michinoku Pro, she doesn't really win much at all.
She hadn't won her first match in the promotion until this March, nearly five months after she debuted there. She's been on the losing side of two-thirds of her matches in MPro. Does she not care as much about them? Does her being the sole woman on the roster have anything to do with it? Is she just satisfied with being able to finish her career near home? Whatever the reason is, it's clear that she's run into a brick wall in Michinoku Pro specifically. Does she need something to motivate her to get past that wall, and if so, what does that thing look like?
On the other hand, I'm almost completely unfamiliar with Manjimaru, her opponent for this match. Formerly known as Manabu Murakami, he was an Ultimo Dragon trainee that left Toryumon about two years into his career to head to Michinoku Pro. That promotion would become his home for the next 15 years, before he just disappeared from wrestling.
In 2022, he would make a surprising comeback, returning to the place he called home for nearly two decades. He's been almost exclusively on MPro shows ever since then. It seems like he feels like he owes a lot to the promotion and is always going to be loyal to them. One could only wonder what he thinks of MIRAI waltzing into this place and performing below expectation.
As MIRAI makes her entrance, we see glimpses of her infectious energy and smile, but something's off. She doesn't seem to be that excited about this match as she is any other match. Almost like she's forcing that smile. What does she know that we don't?
This is unlike any other match MIRAI has had this year.
Even as Manjimaru's music hits and he's preparing to make his entrance, the camera stays focused on MIRAI. She's taking deep breaths, with her eyes closed shut for several seconds at a time. She's scared. Scared of...whatever is coming to her from Manjimaru?
I think that even with having only a limited knowledge of Manjimaru before this, this match plays into this mystique about him. For what I'd say is close to 90% of it's runtime, he is straight-faced, emotionless, phlegmatic, with just one goal in mind (which will become clear very soon). Even his entrance isn't anything grand. He just walks into the room in casual clothing, and stares around blankly as his name is announced.
The opening lock-up is dominated by him, but his expression is unchanged that whole time. He just walks forward and effortless overpowers her. It almost feels like he's bored and the one that doesn't want to be here, and is completely unfazed by the forearm that MIRAI is following up with.
Then, he strikes. With a single forearm of his own, he knocks her down and she has to roll to the outside to recover. It makes sense, the attack looked pretty brutal. But the beauty of this match is what happens after a moment like this.
By my count, MIRAI was outside of the ring for a total of 84 seconds following that first strike. I think the referee just assumed she would come back into the ring after a few of those seconds, so he doesn't start counting until nearly half-way through that time.
Rarely, have I ever seen such real emotion shown by a wrestler like what happens in those 84 seconds. It's not something I could do much justice literally describing (I might try, though); you just have to experience it for yourself.
Her breathing is getting heavier. She's grabbing her neck. She's pacing back-and-forth around the ring. You can even see that she's been brought to tears. She tries to bring herself back into the ring but backs down. She's TERRIFIED to even get near this dude.
Yeah, the strike itself was brutal enough to make you recoil perhaps, but this, this minute and a half, is what makes this truly uncomfortable to watch. You want to cheer her on like the crowd was also doing at first, but both you and them would come to realize that she's a bit more shaken by that strike than you initially could've imagined. But it can't just be that one forearm that gotten to her. It's more. It's so much more than that.
That nasty forearm blow probably caused a lot of physical pain, but it was just a part of a larger message being sent from Manjimaru to MIRAI. Maybe that message was asking for more out of her. Maybe it was trying to put her down. Whatever it may be, she still needed to keep fighting. She cautiously re-enters the ring by the ref's count of 17.
She's applauded by the crowd but there's still this figure standing before her. She puts all her might into striking back, and even counters what could've been another scary forearm from Manjimaru with a dropkick. All of which, he is unbothered by in the slightest. He won't budge. Is there a point in trying to defeat this guy?
She's gonna keep trying, though. Well, until he hits another, even more disgusting forearm strike. It sends her down and to the outside again. You know how this is going to go now.
You can see the tears streaming completely down her face. There's just no way she keeps going. It wouldn't be worth it and I think a point has been proven already. She gets a look of encouragement from Taro Nohashi ringside and decides to go back in there.
Is it a well thought-out decision from her to do so? Probably not, but it's not complete stupidity. She knows what she got herself into. She knew straight from the beginning, from even before this match began. She is a fighter. And that fight within her is not going to betray that person that she has always shown herself to be. When faced with the impossible right in front of her, she is going to force herself back into that ring and do whatever it takes to leave as a survivor.
She brings more forearm strikes to Manjimaru, before he gives another of his own. But this time, she's still standing. It knocked her back, but she's still alive and fighting. And that's the first time, for a split-second, you can see any kind of reaction from Manjimaru in this.
The same sequence of events happens again. More forearms from MIRAI are met with another huge forearm from Manjimaru, but she does something even better than last time: She keeps standing and hits a classic MIRAI lariat, which knocks her opponent back just nearly an inch, but it's something. The moment in this match for me comes when she hits backdrop right after, leaving no-time for him to breathe after the lariat. You can tell he's trying his hardest to stay standing and not allow her to hit the move, but she puts everything she has into lifting him.
Is it all for nothing when he kicks out at one? She sure seems to think so, putting her head in her hands afterwards. But she's not giving up. She's got to keep fighting. I'm not sure if she knows that she's fighting to survive at this point rather than fighting to win. This battle just doesn't seem like a winnable one.
Even when Manjimaru's sickening headbutt (really, it's probably the worst of this decade that I've seen) keeps her down for several seconds, she gets up and tries to roll him up for a pin (which does not succeed). Now, it seems like he's real mad, and nearly decapitates MIRAI with a lariat of his own.
And when everything that has happened to her thus far has told her to stay down and give it up, she just doesn't stop fighting. You cannot live if you are not always fighting. It's a struggle all the time. It's a brick wall right in front of you. Fighting might make you feel alive just as much as it can take you to some dark depths, but you cannot move forward either way if you don't fight.
MIRAI wouldn't be where she is if she didn't fight this far. She wouldn't have come so far in career if she wasn't a fighter herself.
Manjimaru puts on a Boston Crab. She tries escaping to the ropes but right as she's about to reach, he transitions to a really tight single-leg Crab that finishes the match. He walks out of the venue the same way he walked in, and doesn't say a word.
MIRAI lays on the ground upset, pounding her fist on the mat. It hurts for her to even stand up as her opponent's theme plays. The fight's not over. Is it ever? Every day is a fight. Is this experience going to power her to keep taking them head on? Or will she give up?
Well, she didn't give up fighting today, in what was the most difficult fight she had ever been in. In those 84 seconds I spoke about earlier, I wondered, "does she know why this is happening to her right now?" Because I didn't understand why Manjimaru was doing what he did myself. I'd like to think that maybe he was disappointed with MIRAI's results in Michinoku Pro so far and wanted to make this a learning experience for her, to motivate her to fight to the fullest here. But I also understand that it could've been something more sinister on his part. Maybe he has no respect for MIRAI whatsoever. Maybe something has to do with the fact that she's a women in a promotion that has exclusively men. (An interesting fact I learned when looking into MIRAI's early career was that she started off as a Kaientai Dojo trainee, but left because there was a lack of other female trainees.)
I'm not exactly sure what it could've been that caused Manjimaru to choose to be this way towards MIRAI. There's a lot of nuance in just these six minutes that I feel like I'm just not prepared to really discuss. But the most commanding aspect of this match is that it's all so real. I'm not talking about how good any specific move looks, either. I mean that this is very emotional for MIRAI. In those moments when she's clearly shaken and too frightened to get back in the ring and face her opponent, you can tell that she truly is feeling those emotions. She's not playing it up for a character; it is her own character that is showing through. And that's the same MIRAI that is fighting. She fought then. She's fighting right now.
I understand that sometimes, art can serve as an escape for some. But, I don't really think it should (most of the time, at least). Any other art medium (such as film, music, poetry, etc.) typically is a reflection of the times and the people behind the piece. Wrestling can be just as artful as anything else and I wish more fans were insistent on that fact.
This match is very uncomfortable to watch at points. Especially if you don't know what you're getting yourself into and are just a fan of MIRAI's work elsewhere. But it's important. And I'm so grateful that wrestling is a place where it can exist. I haven't been able to stop thinking about this match every minute I've been awake since I first watched it. This match needs to exist. It needs to exist to remind us to keep fighting. MIRAI's a fighter. She's gonna keep fighting. I've done my share of fighting in my life and I'm going to continue doing so. You have to keep fighting, too.
