— What kind of place is Fujisawa City, Kanagawa Prefecture, where you were born and raised?

Yuki Kamifuku (hereinafter Kamifuku):
Nowadays, it has become a town that’s easy for families to live in, but when I was a child, there were a lot of biker gangs. At that time, it definitely wasn’t a very safe place. Still, it’s the place where I was born and raised, so I feel attached to it.

— What were your parents like?

Kamifuku:
My father was always on business trips abroad and was rarely at home, so when he was in Japan, he spoiled me a lot. He never scolded me even once. Maybe because of that, my mother was the strong one. She would often tell me sternly, “No matter what happens, you must win.” She raised me with the mindset of a single mother.

— Your mother sounds like a strong woman.

Kamifuku:
Yes, even though my husband was hardly ever home, and I had a pretty intense rebellious phase, she never gave up and raised me well. I think her mental strength is incredible.

— What kind of company did your father work for?

Kamifuku:
He worked for a major tire manufacturer. He was the president of the company's U.S. and India branches. Even though he reached the mandatory retirement age for executives, he said, “It’s boring to retire,” and he’s still working overseas.

— I heard your maternal grandparents lived nearby?

Kamifuku:
They often came over to my house. My grandmother was a feisty woman. I remember when I was little, we went to a festival together, and a biker gang drove by. She grabbed my hand and yelled at them, "Shut up!"—completely intimidating those punks.

My grandmother stayed energetic right up until just before she passed away in 2018. When she was hospitalized with cancer, she recovered enough to be discharged, but the very next day, my grandfather suddenly passed away. Normally, you'd expect someone to fall into deep despair after that, but instead, she declared, “I’m going to live!”

Even though the chemotherapy made everything taste bland and made her nauseous, she forced herself to eat meat, saying, “I’ll get weak if I don’t eat.” Even when her hair fell out and she was frail, she still went out to play pachinko.

— You have an older sister, right?

Kamifuku:
We’ve always been close. I used to tag along with her when I was little. I remember once during high school, I was hanging out in Roppongi, and suddenly someone hit me on the back of the head with a Chanel bag. I turned around and it was my sister, saying, “What kind of lame way are you hanging out?” After that, we ended up going out together.

— I heard you struggled with a complex about your height from a young age?

Kamifuku:
I weighed 4,000 grams (about 8.8 pounds) when I was born. In kindergarten, one time a friend fell, so I brushed the sand off their knees, but they started crying. They told the teacher, “She hit me after I fell!” I wanted to cry myself, thinking, “That’s not what happened!”

Even in elementary school, most of the boys were shorter than me. Whenever there was an earthquake, the boys would tease me saying, “Kamifuku, did you fall?” or “Kamifuku, were you stomping your feet?”

In Japan, people dislike anyone who stands out. Being so much bigger than everyone else, I often got mean looks. I kept wondering, “Why am I so big?” and “When will my height finally stop growing?”

— So you were even afraid of growing taller?

Kamifuku:
Yeah, I was already 163 cm (5'4") in 6th grade. My grandmother told me, “Your feet are big, you’re definitely going to reach 170 cm.” And sure enough, I did (laughs).

— You seem to have a bold personality now, but when it came to your height, it was different?

Kamifuku:
I was the type to say things bluntly and sometimes hurt people, but when someone pointed out something I was insecure about, I couldn’t handle it. I remember when I was in elementary school, a boy I had a crush on called me “huge,” and I felt like I had turned into some kind of monster.

— Did you ever talk to your parents about being bullied?

Kamifuku:
I didn’t really talk to them because, in reality, it wasn’t like I was seriously being bullied — it was more that I was just self-conscious. I did tell my mom, “I’m insecure about my height,” but she would always say things that made me feel even worse.

For example, when I asked, “I want to wear a pink yukata,” she’d say, “Pink only looks good on small girls, so no. And small patterns won’t suit you either, you have to pick a bold, large pattern.” Even when I wanted to grow my hair long, she forced me to get a short haircut.

— I heard you kept switching clubs in middle school?

Kamifuku:
Yeah, I didn’t really want to join any clubs, but I cared about appearances, so I joined the badminton club where my sister was. But the teacher in charge yelled at me, “If you have no motivation, just go home!” So I quit on the spot.

After that, the baseball coach said, “If you keep going like this, you’ll get into trouble,” and made me the manager of the baseball team. There wasn’t even a manager position in the baseball club before, but they created one just for me.

— So, what happened with being the baseball team manager…?

Kamifuku:
I quietly faded out of that too (laughs). You can’t force motivation onto someone who doesn’t have it. I think some people only straighten themselves out after facing some serious consequences.

— I heard you were a bit of a troublemaker?

Kamifuku:
I wasn’t the kind of delinquent you see in TV dramas — I was more of the type who’d skip school and hang out. Some of the girls around me were doing compensated dating, but I always thought that was wrong. I’d get hit sometimes, but I never hit anyone first.

I always made this distinction in my mind: “Skipping school doesn’t hurt anyone, but violence can leave permanent scars, and that’s not okay.” It wasn’t like I wanted to completely rebel or do really bad things.

— Did you hang out with a group?

Kamifuku:
Sometimes I hung out with 4 or 5 people, but I actually preferred being alone. I’ve always been a bit detached.

Even with the badminton club, I thought, “What’s the point of trying hard here? The coach isn’t even a badminton player, just some random old guy.” That totally killed my motivation. I didn’t have anything I was truly passionate about. I guess that’s the kind of mindset that leads some kids to go down a bad path.

— I heard that in your third year of junior high school, your dad, worried about your rebellious behavior, moved you to the U.S.?

Kamifuku:
Yes, when my dad was transferred for work, he took me to Ohio, saying, “It’ll be easier to live there compared to other countries.” I was kicking and screaming, saying, “This is child abuse!” But my mom had reached her limit and gave up on trying to handle me.

— Did you experience culture shock in the U.S.?

Kamifuku:
Even as a kid, I realized, “The world I’ve lived in so far has been pretty sheltered.” The wealth gap there was beyond what I had ever imagined.

I saw with my own eyes how a Filipino family was living in the garage of a wealthy household, and I understood that studying hard was the fastest way to survive in that kind of environment.

— Did you experience any racism?

Kamifuku:
The area I lived in was 99.2% white. The rest were Black, Hispanic, or Asian — but I was the only Japanese person there. The teachers completely changed their attitude once they found out about my dad’s job, but the kids didn’t care about that, so they treated me horribly.

Not being able to speak English meant you couldn’t express your opinions — if you didn’t speak, you were basically treated like you didn’t exist. I cried every day on my way to school.

— So you had no choice but to learn English?

Kamifuku:
My dad got me a private tutor, but honestly, I couldn’t even understand what they were saying at first (laughs). So, like a baby learning to speak, I just listened to people talk, mimicked what they were saying, and kept repeating that process. Little by little, I started to be able to speak English.

— Given the environment, did you stop being self-conscious about your height?

Kamifuku:
People told me, “There are lots of tall people in America,” but in my grade, there was only one girl taller than me — and she was from Australia. So even in America, I stood out as being tall.

But with everyone having different skin tones, hair colors, and eye colors, I didn’t worry about my height as much as I did in Japan. Instead, I became way more self-conscious about being Japanese.

— Once you could speak English, did that insecurity about being Japanese go away?

Kamifuku:
No, not at all. In the end, I was accepted by my classmates, but outside of school, I still felt people looking at me with disdain.

— I heard that in your third year of high school, you returned to Japan from the U.S. and became the gyaru you had always dreamed of?

Kamifuku:
Since junior high, I had admired the shop staff at Shibuya 109 and desperately wanted to become a Japanese gyaru high school girl (JK).

My dad made me a deal — he said, “If you skip a grade and graduate high school early in the U.S., you can go back to Japan and enter a Japanese high school.” So I thought, alright, I’ll do my best. I studied really hard, got my American high school diploma, and returned to Japan.

— How was life in a Japanese high school?

Kamifuku:
There were three schools in Kanagawa Prefecture that accepted returnee students. I enrolled in a prestigious high school in Chigasaki, close to my hometown, but the students were all painfully plain. My determination to become a full-blown JK completely missed the mark.

Imagine a flashy, light-brown-haired gyaru transferring from America right when everyone was stressing over entrance exams — of course they weren’t going to welcome me with open arms. On top of that, I used to ride to school on the back of a motorcycle driven by a guy from another school. Back then, people treated me like a “black ship” arrival, like Leah Dizon, who was super popular at the time.

— Were you popular in middle and high school?

Kamifuku:
I was definitely popular during my gyaru days. My friend requests on Mixi were insane (laughs).

— Did you have a boyfriend?

Kamifuku:
Yeah, I had a boyfriend starting from high school, and we dated for seven years… but he became a thief.

— What?

Kamifuku:
That boyfriend was addicted to pachinko, and eventually, he stole money from my bank account and disappeared. But my sister’s husband tracked him down, and I got my money back. I heard through the grapevine that my ex is now working earnestly for a moving company, and I thought, “No way, seriously?” (laughs).

— After high school, you enrolled at Toyo University.

Kamifuku:
I got in through the returnee student program, which only required an interview and an essay. But the commute from my parents' house to the university took two and a half hours one way, and the trains were always packed. I couldn’t stand it. So I begged my mom, “I don’t need an allowance, just let me live on my own.” I moved to Sugamo, near the university, and worked part-time non-stop.

I worked at both an izakaya and a bar. Then one of my coworkers invited me, saying, “Why don’t you work at a lounge in Minato Ward? I think they’d totally hire you, Yuki-chan.” That’s how I started working at that lounge.

— Did you make any friends at university?

Kamifuku:
I didn’t join any clubs, so I was pretty much alone. I did go to a welcome party for one club, but some senior guy in his fourth year started getting all clingy, saying, “We’ve shared drinks, so we’re practically buddies,” and I thought, “How lame—living off your parents’ money and acting all cocky.”

Maybe there were better clubs out there, but that first experience left me thinking, “Clubs are just groups of arrogant country kids showing off.” I figured I’d get more out of listening to the life stories of older men at the lounge than hanging out with those types, so I never joined any clubs.

"Like Lady Gaga!" — Loved by the Elderly in Sugamo → Runner-Up at the University Beauty Contest

— I heard you were into playing slot machines during university?

Kamifuku:
Yeah, I got into slots because of my grandma, but it got even worse because my boyfriend at the time was addicted to pachinko. Our “dates” basically turned into trips to pachinko parlors. Before I knew it, I had gotten really good at stopping the reels right on target.

Since it was a Sugamo parlor, when elderly ladies or men next to me were struggling, I’d help them with their slot timing. They’d bring me juice and say, “Thanks, dear.” That made me happy.

— You got along well with the elderly folks in Sugamo.

Kamifuku:
When I walked through the Sugamo shopping street in 10cm heels, an elderly woman came up to me and said, “You look like Lady Gaga!” Pretty soon, I was being hyped up as the “Star of Sugamo.”

When I told them, “I’m entering the university’s beauty contest,” the grandmas and grandpas were like, “If our star is competing, we’re going to support you!” They actually came to the event. Even though I wasn’t part of any student clubs, I became runner-up thanks to their organized voting.

— So the public could vote too?

Kamifuku:
Exactly. Most students were busy with their own clubs and cast their votes online beforehand. But the votes cast in-person on the day of the event carried more weight, so the organized votes from the elderly folks really made a difference.

— Why did you decide to apply for the university beauty contest?

Kamifuku:
I wasn’t really enjoying university life. My parents were paying for my tuition, and I felt guilty about graduating without making any good memories. Around that time, someone suggested, “Why don’t you try entering the beauty contest?” I thought it would be nice to leave some sort of mark, so I applied.

— Did becoming a finalist in the contest help you overcome your insecurities about your appearance?

Kamifuku:
When I became the runner-up and a talent agency scouted me, I realized, “Being tall isn’t always a disadvantage.” That made me want to try work where I could actually use my height, and that’s how I started working in entertainment.

— Were you originally interested in the entertainment industry?

Kamifuku:
Back in my first year of junior high, someone scouted me on the street saying, “Would you like to be a reader model?” But when I told my mom, she was completely against it. She said, “The entertainment industry is no good. Don’t try to stand out. Just be normal.”

— So even this time, your mom was against it?

Kamifuku:
She was totally against it. She asked, “Why can’t you be satisfied with becoming an office worker like everyone else?” I told her, “This is my chance to get revenge on all the people who used to look down on me.” Then she said, “Is living driven by resentment the only way you can survive?” And I replied, “Well, living in America turned me into someone who fights back when they get pushed.”

— After entering the entertainment industry, what kind of work did you do?

Kamifuku:
I mostly worked as a race queen, but honestly, I didn’t enjoy it. I never really understood how, even though it’s a competition of speed, they’d deliberately add weight to high-performance cars to handicap them. I couldn’t get motivated for that kind of work.

— But race queens do get attention, right?

Kamifuku:
I always thought race queens were basically there to flatter the drivers and sponsors. We weren’t the stars, yet we’d stand around the circuit acting like it was all about us, which felt strange to me. I appreciated the fans who made banners to support me, but deep down I was thinking, “What exactly are they cheering for?”

Also, I wasn’t good at mingling with the staff or the other race queens. I remember one awkward moment during a trip when I casually said to a fellow race queen, “You were in the same room as driver so-and-so last night, right?” The atmosphere completely froze after that.

Looking back, I was really clueless back then. In the end, I got fired from being a race queen.

— After getting fired as a race queen, did you have any other work?

Kamifuku:
No, I didn’t have any work at all. You can’t survive on just entertainment gigs, but if you take on a regular part-time job, you can’t be flexible for sudden auditions, right?

So, I started doing paid drinking parties (gyara-nomi) in Minato Ward. Sometimes a girl I knew would message me like, “Two hours in Roppongi, 30,000 yen,” and other times I’d gather girls at a bar for those events.

— What kind of people attend those paid drinking parties?

Kamifuku:
Employees from big advertising agencies, people from the fashion industry who mysteriously have lots of money, people who made fortunes with Bitcoin… They were all flashy, but they disappeared like bubbles.

There was this industry guy who always partied with comedians to show off, but two years later, both the industry guy and the comedians were nowhere to be seen. I kept thinking, “If I stay in this environment too long, I’ll lose my mind,” but at the same time, I was also desperate to survive.

— Did you ever feel empty or miserable doing that?

Kamifuku:
No, I didn’t feel miserable. I tried to stick to my own boundaries, like I did back in my student days. When I saw girls wearing cheap clothes but carrying a Chanel bag or wearing a Damiani necklace, I’d think to myself, “She crossed the line.”

Crossing that line felt like killing a part of yourself. I always thought, “If it came to making money that way, I’d rather drink tap water and eat gravel.”

— What kind of entertainment work did you want to do originally?

Kamifuku:
I wanted to do gravure modeling. But the agency I was with back then was more focused on fashion models and variety shows; they weren’t strong in gravure. Looking back now, I realize the people who succeed are the ones who know how to leverage “industry connections.” Going head-to-head in this business is nearly impossible.

Nowadays, girls who build up big social media followings get featured in magazines, and I think it’s a good era. Right around the time I realized entertainment wasn’t for me and was wondering how I’d survive, the opportunity to get into pro wrestling came along.

— Tell us how you got into pro wrestling.

Kamifuku Yuki (hereafter, Kamifuku):
Someone from my agency told me, “What are you planning to do by just drifting along in the entertainment world like this? Someday you’ll become a mother, and when your child—who doesn’t want to go to school—asks, ‘What did you do when you were young?’ can you really answer, ‘I was doing paid drinking parties in Minato Ward’?”

Hearing that made me realize I had been running away and avoiding putting in real effort. So I told them, “I want to try doing something that I can genuinely work hard at.” Then they gave me three options:
One, become a real estate salesperson.
Two, challenge myself by appearing on adult-themed TV shows.
Three, try pro wrestling with Takagi Sanshiro’s promotion (Tokyo Joshi Pro-Wrestling).

I picked pro wrestling—the option I understood the least.

— What kind of conversation did you have when you met Mr. Takagi?

Kamifuku:
We met at a Renoir café for the interview. Mr. Takagi said, “Stand up and do a spin for me.” So I did what he asked, and then he said, “Why don’t you come by the dojo and watch a training session?”

But after I left, the adults talked things over and decided my debut date without me even realizing it. On the day I was supposed to just observe, they told me to come in “wearing something easy to move in.” So I went to the dojo, and the moment I arrived, they asked, “Can you do a forward roll?” And before I knew it, I was caught up in practice.

— Had you ever watched pro wrestling before that?

Kamifuku:
Never. All I knew was “there’s a ring.” I didn’t know the rules, and I didn’t know any famous wrestlers. When I went to watch DDT—the men’s wrestling promotion Takagi-san runs—Danshoku Dino came out with his outrageous, indecent moves, and I thought, “I’ve entered a seriously insane world.”

But then I saw Saki Akai, the only female wrestler in DDT at the time, and thought, “A tall, slim body type like hers can succeed among men.” It was like seeing a ray of hope.

— Was the training tough?

Kamifuku:
It was unbelievably painful—my entire body was covered in bruises, and it was really tough. Taking bumps is basically like throwing yourself to the ground on purpose, right? Even so, I was able to keep going because I was desperately looking for something I could be passionate about.

I thought, “If I give up here, I’ll probably keep giving up for the rest of my life. But if I overcome this, maybe I can change.” That kept me going.

— On August 26, 2017, you made your debut as a pro wrestler, even though you had no background in sports or fighting.

Kamifuku:
Honestly, my debut was nothing short of a miracle. At that time, Tokyo Joshi Pro-Wrestling didn’t have many trainees, so the senior wrestlers kindly taught me everything. I felt like I couldn’t betray the kindness of those seniors who patiently guided me step by step.

For me, it was either “debut properly” or “disappear somewhere no one could find me.” I chose the lower-risk option: debut.

— Did anything change after you debuted?

Kamifuku:
Tokyo Joshi Pro has a lot of girls with idol-like vibes, so someone flashy like me stood out. My concept was being a “Minato-ku girl” after all. My character made an impression, but there were fans who gave me hateful looks, saying, “Don’t ruin the Tokyo Joshi Pro atmosphere.”

To be fair, I was all attitude but lacked skill, so I can understand why I got criticism. But I didn’t want to just give up because of the haters, so I kept getting in the ring with the mindset, “Someday I’ll prove them wrong.”

— You stirred controversy by openly admitting you broke the “Three Bans” (no drinking, smoking, or dating).

Kamifuku:
I honestly think people who are nearly 30 and have no experience with relationships aren’t very appealing. At the time, I even got complaints from other wrestlers about it. But now, everyone operates without those restrictions, so in hindsight, I think it sparked positive change.

— When did you feel like Tokyo Joshi Pro fans started to truly accept you?

Kamifuku:
I’m sure there are still people who don’t accept me, but I think the turning point was in November 2020, when I won my first belt—the International Princess Championship. Through that match, I felt like people finally recognized, “This girl is seriously putting in the work.”

— Is Saki Akai, whom you mentioned earlier, your ideal wrestler?

Kamifuku:
I always thought that just because it’s women’s pro wrestling, there’s no need to give up feminine beauty, so I admired Saki for maintaining her model-like figure.

I also respect her for competing as the only woman in a men’s promotion while also participating in a women’s promotion—constantly having to stay on guard and fight in that environment.

Although Saki seems dignified and composed, she’s actually quite lonely and lacks confidence. Big women tend to be seen as tough, but that’s not true at all. Since I’m like that too, I could talk to her about anything.

— It’s said that Aja Kong has challenged you to a singles match, but you’ve refused. Is that true?

Kamifuku:
Aja is the closest person to me in the women’s wrestling world. Not knowing the industry, I wasn’t intimidated and talked to her like a friend, and we found we had a lot in common. Regardless of career, we treat each other like friends.

However, I don’t want to have a singles match with her. In pro wrestling, even a rookie fighting a champion has to say, “I will win!” I understand that’s part of the fun of wrestling, but my mindset is different.

I know if I wrestle Aja one-on-one, I’ll get completely beaten up, so I don’t want to do it now. Since she has taken care of me, I do think maybe someday it would be good to have that singles match.

— Since becoming a pro wrestler, have you finally overcome your complex about your height?

Kamifuku:
Yes, I think so. But even now, when I go shopping, male clerks will say things like, “Wow, you’re tall. I’m totally beaten by you.”

I think, “Don’t call me tall. I’m not competing with you, and there’s nothing you’ve beaten me at.” I try to believe that kind of person just has a small mindset.

— What message would you give to people who struggle with their body size?

Kamifuku:
Don’t worry about it. If a guy you like says, “I can’t date someone taller than me,” just say, “I’m not interested,” and stomp away. People who judge by appearances have no value. What matters most is mindset.

— Mindset is important in pro wrestling too, isn’t it?

Kamifuku:
I think so. Just having great technique or physical ability doesn’t necessarily mean you can capture the audience’s heart. What’s really important is how well you can convey your feelings—that’s what makes pro wrestling interesting.

— You’ve also said in the past that you want to be a sexy pro wrestler, right?

Kamifuku:
When I say sexy, I don’t mean having big breasts or a big butt… Rather, I want to express the kind of feminine charm that comes with aging.

To do that, I’m very careful about maintaining my physique and my health. I also pay attention to makeup that suits me. I want fans to feel the sexiness from the way I carry myself.

— You hold an annual homecoming event at the Shonandai Cultural Center in Fujisawa City and donate part of the proceeds to the city’s educational support fund.

Kamifuku:
I want children to watch pro wrestling and feel something from seeing people like us—who once were nothing—working hard. Kids without dreams tend to rebel, so I want them to have dreams. I hope pro wrestling can be one of those triggers.

Personally, when I said I wanted to enter show business, there were people who mocked and belittled my dreams. The place they often hung out was the cultural center.

So the hidden theme of the homecoming event is revenge—I want to put up posters of the event and make sure they see me thriving, whether they like it or not.

— Finally, can you tell us about your future vision?

Kamifuku:
I want to get married and have children. Despite everything, I owe a lot to my family who raised me, so I want to take care of my parents and grandmother until the end, and create my own family to put their minds at ease.

People in this line of work often worry that marriage might cause them to lose fans, but I believe everyone’s life choices deserve respect.