MATCH PROMO Step By Step - Showdown RP #1

[SKazama]

- - - - - - - - - -

Step By Step

- - - - - - - - - -​

”I had a plan, you know. After the match at Territorial Invasion, my plan was simple. Face Bridget, get a bit of comeuppance on her, move on to face Clayton, and complete the cycle that had begun the week after Pain For Pride. The first half of that plan went swimmingly. A solid defeat of Bridget on Showdown was the first step. The rest…was not to be…yet. After all, how was I supposed to foresee what would happen after that match? How was I to know that management had other ideas in mind for me.”

- - - - - - - - - -

Our Lady Of The Lake Cemetery
October 12th, 2025 - Baton Rouge, La

- - - - - - - - - -​

There was water running down his face, and it wasn’t from the rain falling from the sky.

He was crying.

Why he was crying, he didn’t know. After all, he had barely known the man. And yet, when word had come, he had traveled home without a moment’s hesitation.

To most of the world, Matthew Kazama was known to be adopted, and yet here he was standing over a freshly laid slab of concrete amongst thousands of others in this large cemetery as rain fell from the sky above.

The stone was blank, nameless, as the engraving had not yet taken place. There he stood, rooted on the spot, staring down at it. He was alone. The funeral procession had long since come and gone, and yet he remained.

’I shouldn’t…feel this way.’

The reality was simply that Matthew had barely known his biological father. Having been given up to the Kazama’s at such a young age, when he tried to think back on the memories of his blood family, there were none to be found. And yet…when he had arrived at that hospital bed.

’Loss…Pain…Regret.’

The breathing tube that had been down his throat. The soft beeps of monitors and machines that were keeping him in the realm of the living. The cool touch of his flesh as the hospice nurses gave him all the medication he needed to be comfortable in his final moments.

He blinked.

In his mind, the person who had laid in the bed flashed and changed. From his biological father, to Jin, to Kise, to his wife.

He blinked again and forced his eyes to focus on the stone slab below him.

And that’s what it was. It wasn’t that this man, this borderline stranger, had died. It was just another personal loss to strike at his core. Another piece of his foundation, no matter how small or large, chipped away into oblivion.

He felt his knees buckle. The weight of it dropped him down, and his knees hit the soaked grass with a soft thud. His head hung low as one of his hands reached out to rest on the top of the cold dark slab.

’One by one…they all get taken away.’

He couldn’t deny that that’s just how life was. The cycle of life and death. The cycle he broke to save his wife. Here it was before him once again.

Fresh.

Harsh.

Reality.

’Impossible to stop.’

The wind blew against his face as the rain ceased. Not harshly, but enough to make his soaked hair push backward.

’I can’t…They’re coming for her, and all I can see…is this being her fate…a fate I stalled, but cannot deny.’

His hand fell from the slab, both hands resting between his knees against the grass and mud. His eyes wrenched closed as he hung his head low. The wind blew again, this time unnaturally warmer as it circled around him.

”Idiot.”

He snapped his eyes open as the faintest sound of a voice reached his ears. The unnatural warmth of the wind settled on his shoulders, and he could feel it tighten ever so slightly, as if something had gripped him.

’Impossible.’

Even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew better. A sense of calm washed over him, and despite the circumstances, he found a faint smile had begun to grace his lips.

Though he couldn’t see him, he knew who that voice belonged to. He knew he wasn’t alone.

If someone were able to see both in the realm of reality and the realm of the afterlife at the same time, they’d see an image of Kise Kazama standing behind his adoptive brother with both hands on his shoulders. Two brothers. Separated by Life & Death. Joined together in solidarity. Inseparable. Unbreakable.

- - - - - - - - - -

Saturday Night Showdown
November 1st, 2025 - Monterrey, Mexico

- - - - - - - - - -​

His fingers strummed on the arm of the couch he was seated in as his eyes were fixed on Alana Starr. The aforementioned woman was seated across from him as she went over everything he had missed in his absence.

”-and at The Last Stand you’ll be part of our Fatal Four Way match to determine the first entrant in the Extreme Elimination Chamber match at Road to Redemption for the Answers World Championship.”

His eyes widened slightly. Of all the things he had expected to be waiting for him when he came back, this wasn’t on his list. Especially from Alana, someone he hadn’t had a chance to apologize to personally for his previous encounter with her. His fingers stopped their movement as he leaned forward slightly.

”Wait, did I hear that right?”

Alana stopped her explanation as her eyes moved from her paperwork to him. There was a small grin on her face as she raised an eyebrow up at him.

”Hmm? Did I lose you somewhere along the way?”

He shook his head as he chuckled. His hand rose to run through his hair as he blew out a soft huff of air.

”No, not at all. Just…unexpected.”

”You had a good showing at Territorial Invasion, and followed that up with another good performance against Bridget the week after. So, this is another opportunity for you.”

He nodded his head as the reality of his bookings set in.

”Have you guys decided who else is going to be in the Fatal Four Way?”

It was Alana’s turn to nod her head as she glanced down for a moment before she looked back to him.

”Akari Kiyoko and Damien Kutcher, both members of Showtime, and Vincent Mondrian.”

A humming sound escaped from his mouth as he raised his hand up to his chin. On one hand, getting the opportunity to mix it up with Vincent again was a daunting task. On the other hand, though, a thrill of excitement coursed through him at the possibility of getting another shot at him.

”Good. I hate that my match with Akari ended in a disqualification a few months ago, and I’m sad that I didn’t make it to the end of Divide and Conquer to face Vincent again. Can’t wait until The Last Stand.”

The look on Alana’s face was almost comical as he studied the grin on her face. She looked as if she was the cat who ate the canary as she lifted up the front page of her paperwork

”Well, we’re glad you feel that way, becaaaaause…you won’t have to!”

It was his turn to quirk an eyebrow up at her as he leaned back in his chair.

’Oh?”

”Mhmm. Next week it will be Vincent Mondrian and Akari Kiyoko teaming up against yourself and Damien Kutcher.”

He blinked once…then twice…

”So, just making sure I heard that right. Not Showtime versus Vincent Mondrian and Matthew Kazama.”

”Correct.”

He let out a loud laugh before he caught himself.

”Oh, this will be fun, and surely nothing will go wrong”

There was a glint in her eye as the two of them rose to their feet.

”Wrong? Certainly not. Very, very right in our journey to both The Last Stand and Road to Redemption.”

As the two of them clasped hands together in a smooth handshake, Kazama’s head nodded to her.

”Thanks Alana, and make sure you thank Kennedy for me. I really appreciate everything you guys have done for me these last couple of weeks.”

”As if, Matthew. There are some things that have to be handled, and we’re happy to help in any way we can.”

He rubbed the back of his neck a bit as he let out a sigh.

”Yeah, but it would have been very easy for you guys to just exclude me from Last Stand, and I appreciate the effort you guys put to keep me involved on the show.”

There was a small smile on her face as they walked toward the office door.

”You earned it, Kazama, now get out of this office. We’re in the middle of running a show, for God’s sake!”

He laughed and gave a small salute before he swung the door open and stepped out into the arena’s hallway. As the door closed behind him with a soft click, he looked around the hallway. To his left, maybe fifty feet away, was Kyra Phillips and Caroline. They stood outside of a locker room door, and it did not look like an entirely peaceful conversation.

Slowly, he began to stroll his way towards the two of them. As he neared the two of them, he watched as Caroline disappeared back into the locker room and slammed the door shut in Kyra’s face. He could see that Kyra was flustered, and if he had to guess, she hadn’t gotten what she wanted from Caroline. Before she could cut the feed and throw back to the live show, he stepped into the camera.

And just like that, as he put one foot in front of the other, Matthew Kazama was back on Saturday Night Showdown.

- - - - - - - - - -

The Gallagher-Iba Arena
November 4th, 2025 - Stillwater, Oklahoma

- - - - - - - - - -​

The scene faded in from a snow covered static screen. A wide shot of the Gallagher-Iba Arena, home of the Oklahoma State University’s basketball team. To the left of the arena, Boone Pickens Stadium was seen looming in the background of the building. The soft sound of footsteps echoed as someone approached, and Matthew Kazama stepped out from behind the camera with his back to it.

He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and his traditional Kazama hoodie. His newest pair of Jordans covered his feet as his eyes were turned toward the Arena in front of him. After a moment, he turned away from the Arena and faced the camera.

”Hello, beautiful people. Did you miss me? Believe me, I’ve missed you.”

There was a rueful smile on his face as he winked at the camera.

”Showdown, Showdown, Showdown. My, you all have been quite busy while I’ve been away, haven’t you? I’m not surprised. Afterall, the wheel keeps on turning, and I’m but one single spoke in the wheel. Regardless, this spoke is back in place, and we’re about to pick up speed as we travel this road together.”

He pushed the hood down off of his head as he spoke, before he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his hoodie.

”And what a bumpy road it’s bound to be, huh? Nothing new for Showdown, I wager, especially with Silas World doing their best to run roughshod throughout the show. I have to admit, they’re quite effective at it. Hell, even now, look at me. They’re the first people I’m speaking about today after my absence.”

The chuckle that escaped his lips couldn’t be helped as he shook his head slightly.

”From the top to the bottom of this entire brand, Silas World has their grubby claws in everything, don’t they? I mean, there’s no denying that this Temple of Trials match at The Last Stand will be a defining moment for the ever-present power struggle that exists on our show. And, while I’m newer here, I hope that the team Kennedy Street has assembled is enough to thwart whatever it is Silas Moon has planned at The Last Stand. But look at them! Silas Moon, the silver-tongued devil. Donavan Duke, a former World Champion and a bonafide dynamite competitor in the ring. Harper Lee, National Elite Champion. Brianna Hill, an Extreme Enigma Royal Rumble winner. Pandora Paisley, former Tag Team Champion. It’s quite the impressive resumé when you lay it all out.”

Kazama paced slightly from one side of the camera screen to the other, and then back again to his original position in the center of the shot. His eyes wandered, unfocused, as he built up a bit of steam in his monologue.

”Now, you would think that with that resumé, with that lineup of potential, they’d be formidable for just about any force on Showdown. With this pedigree, with this sheer powerhouse of a faction, no Champion…hell, no Elitist, would be safe. Everyone would be, and has been, put on notice by Silas World. But for Silas Moon, it wasn’t enough, was it? No, they needed something else…someone else. Someone who I am quickly becoming very familiar with this year. A former opponent. A former pseudo teammate. A future opponent.”

Matthew’s eyes returned to the camera, narrowed in suspicion.

”Tell me, Vincent, at what point did he get to you? I mean, I’ve been gone a few weeks, so maybe you’ve already explained yourself. Humor me, though. Was it really something as simple as letting you co-captain with Brianna for Territorial Invasion? No, you’re not that simple of a human. Violent, sure. Unapologetically so, but not simple. Regardless, Silas deemed you worthy enough for his cause, eh? Another hungry, slighted, pissed off Elitist to twist and turn to his whim. Is that what you’re becoming Vincent? Silas Moon’s new pet monster? Because I haven’t forgotten.”

Kazama leaned down to grab something from beneath the screen frame. The clattering sound of metal echoed around as something was snapped shut and lifted into the air. A steel chair.

”There was a moment in time, a few months ago, where one of these was wrapped around my neck in an attempt to send a message. Do you remember, Vince? I do. It was before Midsummer Massacre. You, what? Wanted to send a message to Caroline? Wanted to show the world just how violent you were prepared to be for that match? How did that work for you? Oh, that’s right, Caroline still put you down.”

He let out a humorless bark of laughter before he opened the chair and set it down on the ground. He walked around it and sat down in it. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward.

”But who am I to talk, Vincent? My record in this place hasn’t been pristine. Hell, it’s been a rather arduous slog for me. You’re part of that journey, you see. You know who else was part of that journey? Bridget. And what happened? Eventually, that circle of fate came spinning back around. It may have taken a little while, a little longer than I wanted, but it came all the same. See, I’ve been called many things in my time in this industry. Would you like to hear one of the ones I find humorous? Petty-Clap-Back.”

His hands clasped together between his knees. Fingers interlocked with one another to form one large balled fist.

”So, let Bridget be your example, Vincent. Whether it’s this weekend, Last Stand, Road to Redemption, or some other point down this long winding road we find ourselves on…the clap back is coming. And it doesn’t matter how many members of Silas World you bring along for the ride.”

The intensity in his voice lingered for a moment, followed by a brief moment of silence before his hands clapped together and he leaned back in the chair.

”Speaking of this week! What a fun situation we find ourselves in, huh boys? How rude of me. Akari, what a wonderful match last week against Harper. Genuinely. And Damien, I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure since I faced Akari a while back and you were at ringside! But, I digress. What a wonderful ‘can they co-exist’ situation they’ve put us in, huh fellas? I mean, really. Splitting Showtime up and pitting them against each other with the other two opponents at The Last Stand?”

One of his hands rose up to comb through his hair and keep the hood on his hoodie pushed down. His head shook in amusement as he chuckled lightly.

’I’m gonna be honest. I’m walking into this Saturday expecting this entire thing to go left. How could I not? On one hand, Vincent and I have no problem throwing hands with each other, but you two? Partners turned opponents. Not just Saturday night, but in our Fatal Four Way Match. I’ve seen this movie play out a time or two before. Hell, as a matter of fact, I’ve seen parts of this movie play out before with the two of you, haven’t I?”

He stayed leaned back in his chair, both of his arms now folded across his chest.

”Pain for Pride. My second week here, actually. Showtime was a great unit in the twenty-four seven battle royal match. The two of you were working together, keeping pace, and really making a go of it, weren’t you? Well…until you weren’t, that is. And let’s cast our minds back to that moment, shall we? Back to the moment where my partner this week, Damien, thought he’d get the upper hand and throw you over the top rope, Akari.”

Another chuckle escaped from him as he shook his head and adjusted how he sat in the chair. One of his legs rose and crossed the other, his left ankle resting on his right knee.

”But you, Akari, turned it around on him, didn’t you? Tell me, Damien, did it bother you when he outsmarted you? When he saw through your plan and turned the tables on you, did it make you angry? And yet, here the two of you are. A tag team who have worked through the division, now set to square off against each other not once, but twice more. A true conundrum for the two of you. The question is, boys…”

The camera slowly began to zoom in on Matthew as he leaned a bit more forward.

”Which one of you is going to step up and get the upper hand this time? Will it be you, Akari? Will you capitalize on your momentum? Will you finally be able to go from ‘almost’ to ‘success,’ even if it comes at the expense of your tag team partner? How about you, Damien? Will it be you who chooses to forgo the bond of your tag team for the sake of proving that you’re as good as, or better, than Akari?”

He clapped his hands once more before folding them behind his head as he leaned back.

”Or will you both say screw it and just throw the whole thing out the window and just work as a team until, inevitably, Vincent and I find a way to get the two of you out of the way. I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, boys, but those are your options, and those options are on the table for you this week in this very arena behind me. Saturday night is where Showtime has the opportunity to take the first step down this inevitable road. But by the time we get to our destination…it will be too late for the both of you. So…who’s going to be the one who puts their foot forward first? Let’s find out, shall we? Walk with me. Stride for stride. Step by step. Into inevitability.”

The scene began to fade. Saturation bleeding dry from the screen as the picture went from color to black and white. It then faded from a clear picture to a gaussian blur before it cut to static and disconnected completely.

- - - - - - - - - -​