A grunt before his foot stomped back down to the earth. The stomping was growing soft. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing shikos at this point, but when he started the sun was out, and now the orange hues of the sunset were getting ready to disappear into the darkness.
After he left Ezra to deal with luggage, he came outside with Kenjiro and went into a small booth to change into his mawashi. The booth was normal for people to change into something to swim in the large pool next to where the trio currently was. The back section of the inn was massive, with a luxurious pool that was dug into the ground and then a smaller area with runes around it. When Hiroshi asked about it Ezra told him the runes made the water hot. Apparently, it was quite refreshing.
Besides the pool area, there was a large manicured garden with a stone path through and around it with some stone benches set up around a large fountain in the middle. It really was quite zen and backed up what Kenjiro told Hiroshi about it being for more affluent people. They probably came here to just get away from non-stop business and work. Hiroshi tried not to think about living such a life while he was doing shikos. His family always struggled, even when his father was alive, even during the good months.
“You need to get lower. You started lower, now you are getting sloppy,” Kenjiro scolded. He stood from a bench he was sitting on and approached his student.
Ezra was seated next to him. He was wearing a simple light under shirt and his pants. His robe around him on the bench. He had taken it off when the sun’s warmth was still covering the area. Now with night falling, he slid his arms back into the robe sleeves and put it on to shield himself from the night’s cold breath. “This is probably the most he’s ever done at one time. He’s what…” Ezra inspected Hiroshi and rubbed at the stubble on his chin. “Thirteen? The boy isn’t even of the proper age to be in the tournament you’re training him for.”
Hiroshi doubled over and panted when Kenjiro turned away from him to look at Ezra with a frown. He held himself up by holding onto his knees and watched Kenjiro.
“That is a nonissue. There is precedent for younger people in the tournament. If they were allowed in at the local level, for whatever reason, then they are allowed in the finals. No problem,” Kenjiro held a hand up to Ezra placatingly.
Hiroshi straightened once Kenjiro stood over him. He was still panting, and he was sweating profusely, and his legs were about to give out and he was ready to fall to the ground. In front of his master, though, he would do his best to show no weakness. Chances are this legend knew his weaknesses from watching the single match of his he saw back in Ryoku.
“A non issue….” Ezra trailed off, but eventually shrugged. “Well, you’re the legendary stable master and rikishi.”
Kenjiro nodded his head and didn’t seem to notice when Hiroshi finally fell into the dirt. “We’re done for the night. Normally there’s a lot more to training, but we need to get you on a regular schedule and we don’t normally train this late in the stable,” Kenjiro instructed and informed Hiroshi. The man didn’t even look down at Hiroshi before he walked off through the garden and went inside.
When Hiroshi could finally climb back to his feet and the blood stopped, pounding in his ears, he heard the old man laughing at him.
“You’re going to need to get your endurance up if you want to compete with these big boys,” the carriage driver said. There was no mocking or malice in his tone. He said it flatly, matter-of-factly.
Hiroshi nodded his head to the old man and looked at him, wondering what it was they should do now.
“Come lad, should be about dinner time inside. I’ve never been here, but judging from the snootiness of the place and the reputation, we’re in for some good eating.”
Hiroshi nodded his head and went to the little changing room to change out of his mawashi and back into his robes. It didn’t take him long to wipe the sweat down with a towel he found and then to change. He stepped out of the area with his mawashi rolled up. Ezra waited for him the entire time, stayed sitting there looking up at the sky watching the sunset.
Next to him was standing a short young woman wearing plain black dress robes. The thin sleeves and tight fitting robe she wore hugged her slight form. She held a clipboard close to her chest, and a pencil rested behind her ear. She had a firm, serious face with an upturned nose that reminded Hiroshi of a small but cute, petite pig. Her hair only accented that the way it was tied tightly back in a bun.
“Not a moment too soon. Apparently we’re late. What kind of sumotori are you? Late for dinner?” Ezra asked with a click of his tongue. He smirked though and even give Hiroshi a bit of a wink.
“The Oyakata is already seated, and we have the first course ready to go. He said he would not eat without his party though,” the woman spoke up. While she was small, only a little taller than Hiroshi himself, she spoke with authority and still appeared to look down her nose at the much older man Ezra.
Ezra nodded his head and climbed to his feet. The woman, who never said her name, had already turned and walked off. It took the two a few moments to gather themselves and eventually Hiroshi and Ezra followed the serious-looking woman into the inn.
The pair was led through the grand lobby with the enormous fireplace that was now lit with a small fire. It provided a warm, cozy feel against the chill from outside. Off of the lobby was a room that Hiroshi noticed but didn’t really look in was the dining room. It was small, intimate, and nicer than anywhere Hiroshi had ever been. White table cloths and fine glasses and silverware were on the tables. Most of the tables were smaller, designed for smaller groups.
Around the room there were various men and women, all well groomed, standing off to the sides waiting for tables to fill up. They didn’t wear the robes like the woman who got Ezra and Hiroshi wore. They wore simple white shirts and black pants. All perfectly tailored and cleaned and pressed. The woman was waiting by a table in the corner where Oyakata was sitting. She made a hand motion to a pair standing in a corner near the table. Man and woman. They both looked as serious as the woman in the robes.
Hiroshi’s legs instantly felt a little better once he sat in a seat at the table. He even let out a small, audible groan. It didn’t go unnoticed by Kenjiro and Ezra, who both smirked at him.
“Tonight we celebrate. Celebrate your win in the dohyo, celebrate you getting into the final tournament that will decide if you’re able to join a celebrated sumo stable,” Kenjiro spoke and smiled while he looked down at Hiroshi.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“Once you get to the stable, though, your real work is going to start,” Ezra said with a grin. “You’ll need to be ready for the big leagues, boy.”
Kenjiro looked at Ezra for a moment and nodded his head at Hiroshi. “He’s right, you know, it will be hard work.”
Before Hiroshi could answer the couple, the woman waved at brought out a platter. When the woman laid the platter in front of them, the man set three white plain plates. The platter was full of sushi and sashimi in an intricate pattern that sprawled out from the middle in a circular design. Hiroshi’s mouth dropped slightly when he saw all the raw fish. He couldn’t be sure of what everything was because sushi was a delicacy his parents couldn’t often afford, but he recognized tuna and maybe salmon.
The green from cucumbers sliced and placed around the platter with the sashimi pieces and then the sushi rolls. The green from the dollops of wasabi that was placed around the platter and then there were swipes of some kind of pink sauce here and there around various pieces. The display was nothing short of stunning. Finally, he noticed the servers put some polished wood chop sticks near their plates.
“Now, enough of the future. For now, eat, and eat plenty,” Kenjiro said this as he looked at Hiroshi with a wink and a knowing smile.
Hiroshi didn’t wait for another invitation. He took a piece of everything that was everything on the platter. He even took some wasabi and scooped extra sauce and some of the little crunchy bits that were around some pieces. There were little bowls of soy sauce on the table now as well, and the servers were pouring tea for the three of them.
Once the three of them had emptied the platter of sushi and emptied a few pots of tea, Ezra’s eyes looked like they were about to bulge. He put the napkin over his mouth and let out a soft burp as they placed dishes of fried rice and barbeque pork that were covered in a sticky, sweet, spicy sauce. The spice hit the back of your mouth and lingered after a few bites, but the rice and tea kept the spiciness at bay for Hiroshi.
Ezra pushed the plate away from him and shook his head with a chuckle while watching the other two pack away the food. “You guys. I don’t know how you guys do it,” he finally said while he rubbed his stomach. Hiroshi looked up at him with his cheeks packed full and shrugged.
The trio ate a few more platters that were brought out for them, including meats and vegetables, and some long noodles. For dessert, they even had this frozen cream that Kenjiro applauded them for that was simply called ice cream. Ezra marveled that the place must have had a cultivator on staff as one of their chefs. “Usually they’re out fighting or sitting up in their mountains meditating all the damn time!” he marveled.
After dinner, Hiroshi and Ezra sat in their beds facing each other. Kenjiro had retired to his own room before the pair who stayed to drink some extra tea. Hiroshi needed an extra cup of mint tea to help settle his stomach from all the food he ate. They sat there now, Hiroshi rubbing his grumbling stomach and looking up at Ezra, who sat there and smirked at him.
Ezra was wearing a light pair of short pants and a loose shirt with a floral design on white, while Hiroshi was just wearing a pair of loose fitting shorts. He sat there and rubbed his belly. The air in the room while the two faced each other was thick. He could tell Ezra wanted to talk, but he got the air the older man didn’t quite know what to say or how to say it.
“You know, after tonight it won't be like this anymore, boy,” he finally said.
Hiroshi looked up from his stomach and gave a soft wet burp. His eyes opened wide, and he instantly covered his mouth in shame. He was looking right at Ezra when the burp escaped his lips and he could taste the soy and teriyaki. “I’m sorry.”
Ezra lowered his head and closed his eyes. He gave a soft, silent chuckle before he shook his head and looked back at the young sumotori. “You hear me, lad?”
Hiroshi grew serious, and he looked into Ezra’s gray eyes for several moments before giving a firm nod. “Yes. It’ll be more like before dinner,” he answered the old man.
“Aye, but even that was light work for what these sumo wrestlers do. Kenjiro isn’t a pleasant taskmaster either. There’s a reason he’s a legendary oyakata for the legendary stable,” Ezra continued, his serious heart to heart with the boy.
Hiroshi nodded his head and went back to rubbing at his groaning stomach. It was bubbling and burbling. He lowered his head and felt more gas come up. His cheeks puffed out as he tried to hold the burp in.
“Jesus boy, are you alright?” Ezra asked and cocked his brow.
Hiroshi nodded his head and released the gas in his mouth. He almost gagged. “I think there was something in that chicken dish that didn't quite agree with me, but I will be fine. It’s good the chamberpot is close.”
Ezra closed his eyes and shook his head once more. Hiroshi could visibly see the old man trying not to think of it and wondering if he could get his own room. It took him a moment, but he shook that off and looked at Hiroshi seriously once more.
“There’s something else. Kenjiro has been…” He paused and looked at the ceiling. “Off.” He said a minute later, not sure what else to say.
Hiroshi’s eyes narrowed, and he frowned at Ezra before he asked. “What do you mean?”
Ezra looked back to the ceiling, and he struggled again with what to say. “I probably shouldn’t be saying anything since he’s your master now, but it’s better you know this now. He’s been…” once more Ezra paused. “Off. I don’t know how else to put it. There’s been some allegations coming out from the Hajima stable. He’s been violent lately.”
Hiroshi opened his eyes wide and his mouth gasped until Ezra lifted his hands and shook them. “Not towards his students mind you, you’re not in physical danger that I know of. They’ve just had to rebuild things in the house. Claims have been made that he’s been seeing things. I don’t know the details, but you should know what you’re getting wrapped up in. His assistant Botan has been taking over more of the training duties and Nishikigi. So at least you have a new yokozuna helping with your training, which is certainly something.”
Hiroshi gasped again, but for different reasons. He didn’t know Nishikigi actually helped with training the disciples. Hiroshi had looked up to Nishikigi for as long as he could remember and celebrated when the rikishi had become yokozuna, the top rank in sumo, after the last tournament. He had been following Nishikigi when he was still in the lower rank of the highest division. When Jiro took Hiroshi to his first sumo tournament, Nishikigi dominated the dohyo, and ever since he had been his favorite rikishi.
Ezra smirked and said, “I’m sure you’ll be fine lad. I just wanted you to know the things I’ve heard.”
Hiroshi bowed his head to the normally slightly grumpy old man. “Thank you, Ezra,” he told the man sincerely.
“Yeah, yeah. Now lay down, let’s go to sleep. We have a bit of a ride tomorrow and Kenjiro will probably have you workout in the morning before we leave. It’ll be a long day,” Ezra finally said and leaned over to a small table that sat between the two beds against the wall and blew out the small lamp.
The lamp had intricate runes carved along the bottom of the lamp all around the base. While Hiroshi wasn’t a cultivator, and his family didn’t have the money for enchanted items, he knew what the runes meant. The runes collected an aura from the aether. It would specifically collect the fire aura and light the lamp. Hiroshi wasn’t a cultivator, and he had no interest in being a cultivator.
Sumotori didn’t rely on strength from the universe, or the aether. Sumotori and rikishi relied on pure inner strength and skill. A sumo match is a tribute to Kentaro, the only kami that began as a mortal man that fought a kami to protect his village. When he won the match against Kenichi Rei, the Father graced him with power.
After Ezra blew out the light, he immediately laid down and only moments later Hiroshi heard the old man snoring. Hiroshi frowned and grumbled. He didn’t want to listen to that all night. He didn’t know he sounded like a grizzly bear deep in hibernation when he slept. He looked to his stomach in the dark and rubbed it a few more times, pressing on the upper part of his stomach. Maybe tonight he had finally eaten too much. When he laid down, after the workout and the filling dinner, even through the pain, he was asleep snoring loudly with the cantankerous old man.