The following morning, everyone in the stable met in the front room. All the wrestlers, Ezra, Botan, and Auntie Yi. They crowded around the furniture and stared at one man from the Sasuke Sumo Association. They respected the Hajima stable enough to send one of the elders of the Association. A man that was a retired Ozeki and after he ran his own stable for a time retired to just be in the Association.

“Why don’t we go outside?” Auntie Yi was the first to speak and broke the awkward silence.

The man had been there for about ten minutes and it was spent by everyone staring at each other. She led everyone outside and to the benches. Hiroshi ended up under his favorite tree, his sister and mother on either side of him. His friends were close, and Ezra stood behind him. Everyone was still confused, hurt, and every other emotion you could think of.

The man looked uncomfortable. He stood closest to the house and looked up at the sky. His feet moved uncomfortably.

“Alright, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You all were there, you all saw what happened. Some of you were closer than others, in fact,” he motioned towards Hiroshi. “Anyway, the Emperor called in all the Mother’s and seers and sisters and whoever else follows Daichi he has. They all agreed, Kenjiro was in fact Kentaro,” the man sighed.

Hiroshi looked towards the ground. He felt. Well, he wasn’t sure what he felt. He was confused and irritated. Kenjiro was someone Hiroshi had looked up to. Someone the boy had grown to care for and respect. Not just because the man was the fearsome and most respected Yokozuna.

Hiroshi paused.

“What does this mean for Kenjiro’s legacy?” Hiroshi asked and cocked his head. “And how did he wrestle for years with no one knowing the man was in fact.. Well….” Hiroshi trailed off. They all knew what he was.

The representative raised his hands and nodded. “Yes, it is believed that Kenjiro wasn’t always a kami. Kentaro replaced…” The man paused again and looked uncomfortable once more.

“The Mother’s tell us dark days ahead. They can’t tell us anymore than that, but Kentaro is…” he looked to sky, trying to figure out what to say. “Here I’m trying to explain to you guys, and they didn’t even know exactly how to tell me.. Things are happening in the Heavens, was all they would say. All they could say,” he stressed the word could. “When they pressed, they freaked out,” he said finally with a shrug.

Hiroshi looked back to the ground and sighed. So what happened to the real Kenjiro? How long had he been gone? Kentaro. Kentaro was a kami that everyone celebrated and worshiped. Now he was this crazed kami who took over a person’s life and then, in a rage, threw people out windows and wrecked an arena? Hiroshi shook his head. This, this wasn’t good.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“What does this mean for us, for the other stables, for sumo as a whole?” Nishikigi asked. He was seated on a stone bench close to the representative.

“Nothing. Everything is going to continue as it always has. The Emperor is a very deep fan of the sport, and people still are as well,” he explained.

“Yeah but, the sport is to worship a crazy kami?” Nishikigi asked before he looked around at everyone.

Botan stepped forward now. He stood behind the representative and leaned against the house. “The world still owes its thanks to Kentaro for what he did. For when he stood up to Kenichi. We’d all be slaves, or dead, if it wasn’t for what Kentaro did outside the gates of Ryogoku. You honor that act through your rituals and the sport,” he explained and looked at everyone.

“The Heavens always ebb and flow. We are but simple mortals. Who are we to judge what the Heavenly beings do? We just continue on in the Universe, continue along our paths,” he said with a nod of his head.

The representative smiled and nodded his head, thankful for the help. “Yes, Master Botan is right. For you guys specifically, you’ll need a new Oyakata and the Association will find one for you. For now, Botan will act as Oyakata until we can replace Kenjiro.”

“I.. wait… No, I’m not a sumo wrestler,” Botan protested.

The man looked back at Botan and shrugged. “It’s not my call, and you may not be a sumo wrestler, but you’re always here helping train sumo wrestlers. You are part of why this house does so well, I’d think. It won’t be permanent. Sumo’s stance has never been overly friendly towards cultivators, so it will set a bad precedent. We will find you a new Oyakata worthy of the legacy of the Hajima beya.” He nodded confidently.

After he left, the wrestlers got together. Auntie Yi, Hikari, Ezra and Asami all went inside to make dinner for the wrestlers.

“I’m not going to keep wrestling,” Yoshitaro was the first to speak. “I can’t devote my life to a being who did…” he waved his hand off in the air to the side.

There were a few murmurs of agreement and a few of dissent.

Nishikigi chuckled and looked over to him. “What in the world are you going to do in the real world Yoshitaro?”

Yoshi shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. I’m going home in the morning.”

Hiroshi sighed and looked towards the ground before he folded his arms against his chest. He was unsure what he would do, what he should do. How would his father react to all of this? He looked towards the sky and when Nishikigi asked what Hiroshi would do, he simply shrugged. He had no answer. He had a lot of inner reflection to do. Maybe he’d ask Botan how to meditate. He definitely needed to speak with his mother.

“I don’t think I’m going to leave. Not yet,” Hiroshi said finally and looked out over to the rock garden. “This is all I’ve ever wanted. I think my father would still want me here. For the time being, I’m a sumotori.”

“Not only that,” Itaro grinned. “You’re Yokozuna Haganzumi.”