Over the next few days, Oyakata Kenjiro did exactly what he said he was going to do. He helped Hiroshi shore up his close combat. It was hard though, because like the master said, all the lower ranked rikishi focused mostly on pushing and thrusting. Focusing on the belt was in their arsenal of tricks. It had to be, but they weren’t masters of it. It wasn’t their go-to technique.

The Oyakata did the only thing he could do, had Hiroshi train against full sekitori wrestlers. Hiroshi stood in the middle of the practice dohyo and stared at Udo. The sekitori was huge compared to the junior wrestler. The little hamster stared up at the man, who simply smiled and bowed his head a little at his junior.

“You will charge at Udo just like you do during butsukari, but Udo won’t let you push him across the clay. He’s going to hold you there and grab your mawashi. He will not hurt you, so don’t worry. Your job is just to try to break free and figure out what to do,” Botan commanded off from the side.

“Yes Master,” Hiroshi said. He didn’t look over at Botan when he answered. He was almost scared of looking away from Udo. Logically, the boy knew the juryo wrestler wouldn’t hurt him. Not only Botan but also Kenjiro would rain down wrath if he did. Hiroshi knew this, but he still blinked and gave an audible gulp.

“Begin,” Kenjiro called out from his usual spot where he sat and watched.

Udo lifted his arms and braced himself, and Hiroshi charged as soon as Kenjiro gave the command. Hiroshi hit the man and the skin on skin slap echoed through the small practice area. Hitting Udo was like running full speed right into a brick wall. A big round squishy hard as a rock wall.

As soon as Hiroshi collided with his new training partner, he felt the bear of a man’s arms come down and grab a hold of his mawashi. The boy tried to fight the grip, but Udo was just too large and powerful. He wiggled around.

“I will not fight. You just need to show me you know how to break through this,” Udo said in Hiroshi’s ear. The boy just nodded into the man’s stomach.

“Now, while he holds onto your mawashi, you need to break free. You can either just wiggle and try to break the grip or you can attack. Either will work,” Kenjiro’s voice came to Hiroshi from his side.

Hiroshi could peek over and see the large Oyakata standing close to the pair of them. Hiroshi took a moment to kind of be amazed the master stepped close to give him his personal training. Normally, it was Botan who stood close while Oyakata watched and gave pointers after.

Hiroshi wiggled and pushed an arm down towards the hand that was gripping his belt. Hiroshi felt Udo’s arm break away once he used almost the strength he could to break the grip the larger man had on him. Once he was free, he adjusted. The boy moved back and thrust out his open palms before he moved to an open palm strike at the man’s chest.

“Good, good,” Oyakata said with just a grunt from Botan.

In the coming days and weeks, Hiroshi trained like this. Morning practice with everyone in the beya, and then after a little rest he went back to the dohyo with Oyakata Kenjiro and whoever he got to help train Hiroshi. Botan was only there the first day. After that, it was just specialized training with the stable master. He rotated in different ranking wrestlers with varying body types and strengths.

Hiroshi looked forward to this specialized practice every day for two reasons. One because it got him private face-to-face time with the Oyakata. What could be better than getting personalized training from a retired Yokozuna and the man who was considered being running the greatest stable in the empire?

The other reason was because it got Hiroshi out of some of the household chores. His friends that had been covering for him to this point already were starting to gripe about the extra duties they had to do. Hiroshi just shrugged it off. What was he going to do? Turn down private training? He scoffed at the idea. He was too young to get into professional sumo as it was. His only chance to join was to get special consideration for winning the tournament and becoming the Yokozuna Junior.

One day Hiroshi was really nervous when Kenjiro brought the Yokozuna himself. Nishikigi was a monster in the dohyo. It was no secret the man hid away his friendly, kind and overly affable features once he stepped onto the clay. While Nishikigi wasn’t there to actually fight Hiroshi, you could tell playtime was over with the man. He was all business and even helped show Hiroshi some things that Kenjiro hadn’t.

Of course, Hiroshi didn’t really practice at his full level that day. He was too nervous. It showed each time he tried to break away from the top heavy opponent.

“You need to stop pulling your punches,” Nishikigi scolded him after one charge. “I promise you will not hurt me.”

Hiroshi stood there and looked up into his senior’s green eyes with a frown. He stayed like that for several moments while Nishikigi stared back with a harder expression. It was almost a glare, and it intimidated the hell out of the young battle hamster.

Finally, he stepped back to his starting position and gave Nishikigi a firm and determined nod. “Yes, senior,” he said as he crouched down.

One fist hit the clay, followed by the second. The second had barely hit the floor before Hiroshi charged towards Nishikigi. He felt like he ran into a fleshy brick wall and there was a loud skin on skin slap when he hit the man’s enormous stomach.

“Good! Yes, just like that. Your tachiai should be like that for every match,” Kenjiro praised him. “There was heart and passion there. Ferocity. The reasons I came to visit you and bring you back in the first place.”

Hiroshi didn’t even hear the praise. He was already fighting off Nishikigi inside grip of his mawashi. With Nishikigi being so much bigger than Hiroshi, the boy could duck down and grab the man’s thigh. He heaved with all of his might and lifted.

Just like the promise of Udo, Nishikigi didn’t fight back. Hiroshi thought he was going to sprain something as he lifted with all of his might, his leg work these past weeks shining through once he could lift the Yokozuna’s leg from the ground and send him down to the clay with a loud yell of surprise coming from Nishikigi.

Once the move was finished and Hiroshi had realized what he had done, he moved quickly to the yokozuna’s fallen form. “I’m sorry, senior, are you alright?”

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What he found was the man laying there full on belly laughing on his back. His eyes squeezed shut and tears rolled down.

“Nishikigi?” the boy asked before he looked up at Kenjiro.

Kenjiro nodded his head and grinned in response to the boy's questioning look.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. That was great!” Nishikigi exclaimed before he climbed to his feet. He tried to dust off some of the clay and shook his head. “It’s been so long since I’ve been knocked down like that here. It was fantastic. Great to see a junior disciple able to lift me like that. The question is, are you alright?” Nishikigi looked at Hiroshi with a cocked eyebrow.

Hiroshi nodded his head and bowed at the man for his consideration. “Yes, senior. I am okay. The shikos and other leg exercises have really paid off.”

“I would say so,” Nishikigi said and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“I think we’re done for the day,” Kenjiro said before he headed to the doorway. “You two go clean up.”

“Thank you, Master,” Hiroshi said to the man’s back.

Kenjiro just gave a wave to the boy and said “Good job today Hiroshi” and then he climbed the steps to go upstairs.

When Hiroshi turned away, Nishikigi was walking down the hall into the bathroom with the large soaking tub. “Come on, little brother,” he called to Hiroshi.

Hiroshi’s jaw dropped. Little brother?

“Uh, yes, senior, I’m coming,” he said as he hurried down the hall with Nishikigi.

Now, in a sumo beya where rank was everything, it was proper etiquette for Hiroshi to help Nishikigi get out of his mawashi and then wait for the yokozuna to finish bathing. Then the junior would be able to remove his belt and get into the soaking tub to wash and clean himself from the hard day of practice he had. With the informalness between them, though, once Hiroshi was done helping Nishikigi, the man helped Hiroshi.

Nishikigi untied the hamster’s mawashi and then held the end while Hiroshi spun. He wrapped the belt up as Hiroshi spun and when Hiroshi handed him the loin cloth part of the getup, the senior disciple put it together nicely and set it down on the ground next to his own. Then the pair entered the large soaking tub together and exhaled loud breaths as the warm water relaxed the muscles.

They sat in silence for a while. Hiroshi was scared to disturb the man while he relaxed, so he just went about using a washcloth and washed himself. Scrubbing at his pits and sweatier areas. It was Nishikigi who finally broke the silence.

“So, what brings you to the stable anyway?” he asked and opened one eye to look over at the boy.

Hiroshi paused and looked at him with his mouth gaped open like an idiot. He looked like a deer trapped in headlights which just made Nishikigi laugh and shake his head.

“There’s no reason for that,” he laughed. “Don’t be so shocked we’re talking. You’re my junior disciple in the glorious Hajima stable. Not only that, but you just knocked me on my back, plus I fully believe that after this next tournament you will be the champion junior Yokozuna.”

Hiroshi bowed his head. “Thank you, senior,” he said carefully. While Nishikigi seemed like he was getting informal with him, he didn’t want to push the boundaries and offend the man. He brought his washcloth back above the water and leaned back to relax while they soaked.

“Oyakata came to my home the night after I won the local tournament in Ryoku,” Hiroshi told the man, unable to hide some small amount of pride. Being scouted by the stablemaster himself was a note of pride for the hamster. His fellow juniors were found by word of mouth. A chain of people who wrote to Kenjiro to get his consideration.

“Oh, really?” Nishikigi once more opened an eye to look over the boy before he nodded in approval. “You must have fought well.”

“Yes, senior,” Hiroshi said before he continued. “Master also said he liked the heart and passion I showed in the tournament. He said we’re losing that in the empire. Losing the passion for sumo.”

“Yes. He’s right. You only really see a full arena on the first and last days of the tournament anymore. Not that it isn’t crowded the other days, but you can tell the people aren’t as into it.”

Hiroshi heard a hint of sadness when Nishikigi said that. A certain lament about the missing admiration for the sport and tradition that is sumo.

“Imagine if Kenichi once more stormed the empire and warred with us? How would we fare without someone like Kentaro standing up for us?” Nishikigi asked, but Hiroshi could tell the man wasn’t really looking for an answer. Hiroshi just nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what to say.

“Granted, now we have cultivators and people who follow the same fighting style Kentaro used to defeat the war kami. What chance would we really have, though? Even the cultivators haven’t been able to find their prize, immortality and ultimate power,” he said with scorn in his voice. “As if it’s appropriate for mortals to join the Heavens.”

“Anyway,” Nishikigi said after a long pause. “Nevermind all of that. If the stories are true, Kenichi isn’t allowed to come to the mortal plane anyway, right? So, no worries,” he said with a shrug before he grabbed a washcloth himself and washed.

“Gotta love the stuff they’re able to do, though. A tub that stays warm, and the water keeps clean? Those rune cultivators surely know what they’re doing,” Nishikigi then said with a laugh.

The rest of the bath was in silence as the pair cleaned themselves. They set about drying off and then climbed into their bathrobes. Hiroshi was once more honored when the Yokozuna walked side by side with the boy back down the hall and through the training room, then up the stairs. Hiroshi had to allow his senior to go up the steps first. The pair of them would not fit walking up the narrowed stairwell. Nishikigi himself could only barely fit walking up the stairs.

When Hiroshi got to his room, he found his roommates just waking from their naps.

“Done early?” Ansei asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Hiroshi nodded his head and found some of his comfortable house clothing to put on. While he was changing out of his robe and into the loose shorts and shirt, Huan asked him how his training had gone.

“I threw Nishikigi!” Hiroshi could barely wait to get the excitement out.

“WHAT” they both shouted and questioned in unison. They even jumped to their feet and rushed Hiroshi, who was standing there in only his shorts.

Hiroshi grinned. “He’s so tall, and his thighs are so large. When he had an inside grip on my mawashi, I could just wrap my arms around his leg and lift,” he told them the story of his accomplishment.

“No way.” Ansei shook his head and walked away from Hiroshi. “There’s no way you could throw Thunderpants onto his back.”

Hiroshi just grinned at Ansei’s back. When the boy turned back around and saw Hiroshi’s grin, his mouth went slack jaw. “You’re telling the truth.”

“Well, you’d be able to find out quick if I wasn’t. Why would I lie?” Hiroshi said and shook his head before he finally put on his shirt.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Ansei answered and nodded his head. “Man, that’s wild. Good job Hiroshi. Was he mad?”

“No, he loved it,” Hiroshi answered with a laugh. “After that Master ended practice and then me and Nishikigi washed up together.”

“Well, there you go. I was believing you, but you took it too far,” Ansei said and shook his head before he put on his own shirt and walked out of their room.

The whole time, Huan said nothing. He just stood there and stared at Hiroshi while his mouth hung open. Hiroshi shook his head when Ansei left and finally looked over at his other fellow junior with a cocked brow.

“Are you alright?” Hiroshi asked him.

“No….. way…..” was all Huan could say before he turned and walked to his own area in the room and put his own shirt on. “No….. way…..” He said again as he went for the hall. He repeated it once or twice as they walked down the stairs, following the glorious smells of Auntie Yi’s cooking that wafted up through the house.

Hiroshi’s stomach growled at the scent of ginger and onion in the air. “Man, it smells wonderful,” he said. With all the extra training he had been doing, he needed to be sure to eat extra, so he didn’t lose any weight. So far, he had maintained his current weight, which, for the time being, he was content with.

“Always does,” was the first thing Huan said other than the mumbled words of shock and unbelievement.