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Cradled lovingly, in the arms of a player who wished to remain anonymous, Neko Haruna wonders, with glazed eyes, if her own imminent graduation will command the same crowd of hundreds and elicit tears from her peers. After all, she was never a main event player, but she remembered that she sometimes inspired the crowds that did go to see her enough to have her disappear from view behind flurries of black, white and more recently, purple paper tape. So her games meant something to someone, didn’t they? As the evening’s proceedings came to a close, and she made her way out of Shinjuku Face, with the aid of crutches, she looked back at the ring and all the players inside embracing, and smiled. She slinked out behind the curtains, unseen and unheard into the shadows, she would make her namesake proud.
