“Welcome to our home, Commissioner Parker Meloche,” greeted Emi Makoto, wife of the legendary Haru Makoto. She bowed in respect and ushered Parker into their home, sliding the door closed behind them.

Parker had flown 21 hours to Tokyo, then spent another two hours of traveling to the small town of Tano. It was exhausting, and he was hopeful it was worth it.

As part of his strategy to recruit roster members representing all the greatest wrestling cultures, Parker was missing a prized Japanese strong man. However, rumor had it that Haru Makoto was still a viable option.

It was a small traditional Japanese home called a Minka. A relic design meant for farmers, artisans and merchants, and definitely not for the ancient Samurai caste. The home presented the expected charm of tatami mat flooring, sliding doors and wooden engawa verandas.

After he respectfully slid off his shoes and followed the aged Emi into their family room, Parker caught site of his prized recruit and his heart sank.

Sitting in a chair, Haru was not the veteran physical specimen that Parker had expected. He looked old, frail and past his prime, staring blankly out of the window.

This was all for nothing thought Parker.

“I apologize, but Haru is not speaking today,” Emi whispered.

Parker nodded and took a moment to evaluate the situation.

“He has not been well since he left combat,” she continued. “I tried to return your message to tell you that we were honored by your interest, but unable to accept.”

Looking down at his feet, Parker accepted the futility of his efforts. Just as he turned to politely excuse himself from their home, another sliding door opened slowly. Standing in the open door was a young, Japanese man, built with the athletic frame that Haru was once known for.

“Is this the man from America?” the young man asked, softly.

“Yes, Fuse,” she replied. “But you must go now, Commissioner Parker Meloche is now leaving.”

“No,” said Fuse, holding his palm forward. “I must speak.”

“Fuse, we have already talked about this,” Emi stated.

Parker was intrigued. Could this be a chance to salvage his trip to Japan?

“Mr. Meloche,” acknowledge Fuse, bypassing his mother’s glare. “The Makoto family has never declined an opportunity to compete, and I will take my father’s place.”

“Fuse!” Emi exclaimed. “Silence! I forbid it!”

“No, no,” Parker responded. “I appreciate your interest, but I would dishonor your mother by accepting you against her wishes.”

Of course, Parker didn’t mind at all, but he knew how to leverage psychology in negotiations.

“Mother!” Fuse pleaded. “Have you not told me that the Makoto family has always answered the call of duty? Even since the day Samurais visited our village to recruit their army?”

Emi’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Wrestling in America is not the call of duty, and respectfully, Commissioner Parker Meloche is not a Samurai,” she answered. “And I expect your interest is in the ‘adventure’ you have expressed desire for. Now is not the moment for it.”

Fuse lowered his head in defeat, dejected that he was not able to win his mother’s approval.

“Yes, mother,” answered Fuse before sliding the door closed as he left the room.

“I apologize, Commissioner Parker Meloche. My son is eager to leave his home, but he is not ready for the adventure he seeks.”

“I completely understand,” Parker replied in a polite fashion.

Emi led Parker to their door before respectfully wishing him a safe journey back to America.

Parker walked unemotionally through the busy concourse of the Tokyo airport. Alas, he had accepted that his trip was in vain. He pulled his suitcase behind him and mentally prepared for the long flight back to the United States. Always the planner, Parker considered the next round of recruitment trips coming up.

“Mr. Meloche! Mr. Meloche!” a voice yelled from behind him.

Running and dodging past other travelers was the young Japanese man from Tano, Fuse Makoto.

“Fuse?” Parker asked.

After finally catching up to him, Fuse bent over panting for breath.

“Mr. Meloche,” Fuse stammered between gasps. “I will come to America. I will wrestle in your town of Memphis.”

“But your mother forbade it,” Parker answered. “I could not accept your offer.”

“Please, Mr. Meloche,” Fuse replied. “I cannot go back. I have sworn to my mother that I would not return until I am a champion, and if I don’t keep that commitment, it will be a great dishonor.”

Parker stood silently in the middle of the chaotic Japanese airport.

“Please, Mr. Meloche,” Fuse begged one last time.

“Where are you bags?” Parker asked.

Fuse’s head bent down in shame.

“You didn’t actually tell your mother, did you?”

Still, Fuse kept his head down.

“Please, Mr. Meloche,” Fuse replied meekly. “I have used what little money I have to buy this plane ticket.”

After a brief pause, Parker smiled to himself.

“Come on then, it’s a long flight.”