“Hiroshi, you’re up,” Ezra said as he walked over to the boy’s little corner. Hiroshi had been sitting there with his mother and sister, who could come in between the matches.
The little gerbil looked at the two of them and smiled with a nod.
Hikari looked down and ran a hand over Hiroshi’s greased head and returned the nod. Asami just jumped up and shouted that he’d do great. After a moment she looked up to their mother. "Is it time to go back to our seats? We’re missing the action!” she exclaimed and took a lowered stance like a sumo wrestler before she thrust her arms and hands out.
Hikari gave a small chuckle and nodded her head before she leaned in and kissed Hiroshi on the forehead. “Good luck my little gerbil,” she said just before the pair left Hiroshi’s corner and outside of the stable area to head down the pathway and back out to the arena stands. Asami walked along with her doing a crab walk and pushed and thrusted her arms out with every step doing exaggerated grunts and moans.
Ezra stepped up and looked down at the young sumotori. Hiroshi was watching his family leave with a little grin and a small shake of the head at his sister’s antics.
“Come on lad,” Ezra said as he put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Have you seen the matching yet, Hiroshi?” Ezra looked down at him with a cocked brow as they walked.
Hiroshi shook his head as they reached the end of the tunnel way that led out to the arena. “No, why?” He shrugged. “Whoever it was, I’ll move forward. I’ll do what I’ve been taught and it’ll all work out,” he said hopefully.
Ezra smiled and clapped him on the back and gave the boy a confident nod. “That’s it lad. You’ve been trained well.” There was an uneasy note in his voice that made Hiroshi pause.
“Wait… what… Who is it?” Hiroshi asked and turned so he faced the older man.
“Hisuiyama,” Ezra said flatly, his face growing serious.
Hisuiyama was a famous mountain range in the southwestern part of the Empire. It was more widely known as the Jade Mountains. It was the home of one of the more famous schools for Cultivators to go to, and was the mountain range behind the capital of one county in the Empire. If Hiroshi wasn’t a follower of sumo, he’d instantly be able to tell who he was fighting.
Hiroshi frowned and shook his head. “Yeah, I might as well go against the Yokozuna second round,” he said and shook his head.
“Aye, it’ll be good to get it out of the way. That’s the spirit lad,” Ezra said with a nod.
Hiroshi gave a nod of confidence that he wasn’t sure if he really felt and walked away from Ezra and towards the dohyo.
The walk seemed to take forever. He looked up towards the shrine that hung over the dohyo and gave a bow. Was he walking slowly?
Take it easy. This will be fine.
Hisuiyama was built a lot like Hiroshi. He was short, but maybe even rounder than the young gerbil. He was tricky, though. While he had the body of someone that looked like they’d excel in the sort of straightforward pushing and thrusting, he was actually more of a grappler. It was said that his father was some sort of cultivator from one sect who specialized in judo.
His father pushed his son into sumo because it had more of a tangible prize at the end of the journey. None of the cultivators or sects or schools had found the secret to the immortality they craved. So he trained his son in judo and got him recruited into the Shihon stable from the city of Kawaguchi. The beya was a middling stable at best, with some formidable wrestlers, but none of them have really made it very high into the ranks. They were most notable for being the one sumo stable not in the capital city. Even his island home of Kokokan didn’t have its own stable, and it was the island where sumo was first created.
He shook the thoughts away about his new opponent and where he was from. Hisuiyama wouldn’t be able to grapple Hiroshi, if Hiroshi kept pushing him away, right? He gave himself a confident nod as his plan for the fight was finalized in his mind. The pair were already going through their opening rituals of shikos and bowing and showing they weren’t holding onto weapons.
Hiroshi blinked. His opponent was already crouched down and ready for the tachiai, both of his fists pressed against the clay. Hiroshi had barely finished his shiko. Was this a sign of pure confidence? Or was Hisuiyama just really ready to start the match and get it over with? He didn’t let it phase him. Instead, he simply crouched down and put his first fist down.
He paused once his first fist was flat on the ground, and Hiroshi looked at his opponent. Hisuiyama looked more than ready for the fight. His eyes glared at Hiroshi and he wore an expression that he was ready to win, and win quickly. The gerbil took a deep breath and tried to match the rhythm that Hisuiyama was breathing in.
Hiroshi felt the gyoji standing between them. He hadn’t paid the judge much attention up until now. Now that was standing off to the side and in between the two, his gunbai held at the ready. One final deep breath in from Hiroshi and his final fist moved towards the ground. The first barely swept across the clay as Hiroshi pushed himself forward.
“HAKKEYOI!” the boy yelled it a little late.
The two were already charging towards each other. Hiroshi had his arms outstretched, and he hoped his reach was a little longer than his opponents.
There was one more yell shortly after the first from the gyoji “shobu ari!” he yelled.
Wait. Huh? Hiroshi blinked and snapped out of whatever daze he had gone into at the faceoff. The past few seconds went through Hiroshi’s brain like a nightmare had come true and he stood to his feet and wiped the wet clay off from his stomach.
They didn’t have a proper tachiai, the junior Yokozuna, Hisuiyama, did a henka. He could now feel his opponent’s hand on his back and Hiroshi stumbled forward. All Hisuiyama did to win the match was step to the side and push Hiroshi onto the ground. He was stunned that something like that happened to him, and there were even some boos from the few people in the crowd.
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“GO HIROSHI!” he heard a familiar voice yell from off to the side, his sister.
A bow was given once Hiroshi reached his side of the dohyo and he walked off the clay ring and towards the back. He was in such a daze he almost forgot to turn and bow towards the shrine over the dohyo, but he saw Ezra point at it. Hiroshi nodded his head and turned, then bowed up at the shrine before he turned back and walked to the long walk down into the bowels of the arena.
He felt Ezra put a hand on his shoulder and pat it softly. Then he felt a smaller girl put her arms around his midsection.
“It’ll be alright my little gerbil,” his mother’s soft voice came and brought him out of his daze.
Hiroshi blinked several times and found they had gone all the way back to the stables area and everyone was standing around him. Everyone save Ansei and Huan, who were presumably out wrestling or getting ready to. He found the Oyakata sitting in a spot in the middle of the room, Botan standing next to him. They were both eyeing him. Botan gave a snort and then walked away to go speak to one of the other wrestlers.
“Don’t worry Hiroshi. Henkas happen. It’s a little odd to see it in a junior tournament, and from the junior yokozuna, but…” Kenjiro trailed off and shrugged.
Hiroshi gave a nod and looked around the room.
“Plus, other people have already lost a match. That boy did already as well. He lost his first match. So, you’re still in the running, I’d bet,” Ezra offered while Hiroshi went to a small sink area and grabbed a towel to wash the clay off his belly.
“You know, you’re right. I shouldn’t let it get to me. This is fine,” Hiroshi said and looked at Ezra, drying himself off with a fresh towel.
Hikari looked over and smiled at Hiroshi, and gave him an encouraging nod. There was getting more commotion in their section of the back area now. More of the professional rikishi’s were showing up from doing their own various things.
“Yeah, everyone gets henka’d now and then. It’s never fun, and it sucks, but it happens,” Nishikigi said as he walked into the room with a wide smile. “My money is still on you to win.” Nishikigi was still in the kimono he was wearing earlier. A simple dark green that had a slight shimmer to it. He winked at Hiroshi and then went off to his own area to get ready for the day.
Ansei and Huan came to the back together, ushered in by Ezra much as he had brought Hiroshi in. It turned out Ansei won, but Huan lost against Hiroshi’s old nemesis, ren. Hiroshi frowned upon hearing the news and then shrugged.
“We all still have a chance going into tomorrow,” he said.
“Alright then, you juniors get cleaned up and changed. You can watch the rest of the day from the stands. Hiroshi, you’ll have a seat with your family in the stands and Ansei and Huan will be with Ezra in the next box over,” Botan commanded as he stepped into the middle of the room.
“There’s only one or two junior matches, but there’s no reason for you guys to be down here anymore. It’s time for the rikishis to get ready and do their things to prepare for the day,” Botan continued. It took him a moment, but when the three boys split up to do as they were told, his voice came up once more. “Good job today, you three.” He said as his dark eyes looked over them.
They bowed their heads and said thank you. Hikari and Asami left the room and told Hiroshi they’d be up in the stands waiting for him.
It didn’t take them long to clean up and change out of their mawashis and into their drab brown kimonos. Before the trio left, they took a moment to bow and tell everyone good luck in their bouts for the day. Hiroshi even took a moment to go to Yoshitaro and give him a slight bow.
“Good luck today Yoshi,” he said, trying to convey every once of sincerity that he felt.
Yoshitaro just rolled his eyes and waved him away. Hiroshi left once the senior dismissed him and the three went down the hallway and up to the stands. They found Hikari, Asami, and Ezra, just like Botan said they would. Just a few levels up over the people on the ground seats.
The people on the floor sat on small cushions and were all well-dressed people. There were also some women with white painted on their faces and bits of red on their lips. Hiroshi knew these women as women from tea houses who specialized in comfort. Or well, that’s what his father told him. His mother told him not to worry about such things until they were older. They were all people who were somebody important in the city, or in the sumo world, or they at least knew someone important.
Above them were just regular folks. Some wore simple robes, some wore simple clothing of pants and shirts. Before he sat by his mother, Hiroshi looked up to the Emperor’s box and wondered if the Emperor or anyone from the royal court was actually up there yet. It was still early in the day, since the official grand sumo tournament hadn't even started yet.
“No one is up there,” Asami informed him. “Or if they are, they haven’t poked their heads out.”
“Nah, not for the junior matches. If anyone shows up, it probably won't be until at least the second division wrestlers start. It is the first day though, so who knows, maybe the Emperor will show up,” Ezra offered with a shrug as Hiroshi sat down.
The boxes they sat in were really just higher levels from the bottom level. There were no chairs or anything. Just some cushions and enough room for four normal sized people to sit in. Maybe Nishikigi and Yoshitaro could fit in one box, but no one could sit with them. A raised polished wooden pole that defined each box area separated each little box. The benefit to sitting here with less than four people, which Hiroshi took full advantage of, was that he could lean his back against the box behind them, which was a level higher and stretch his legs out.
Asami was next to him, and then Hikari was on the end all to Hiroshi’s left. On his right was Ezra, and then Huan and Ansei in their own little box.
“Anyone you hoping to see? I haven’t looked at the matchups for the day,” Huan said as he leaned forward.
Hiroshi shrugged. “I hope Nishikigi gets some payback to Zoichi, but other than that. I just really hope everyone does well. Other than that, I just hope there are some good matches.” Everyone nodded and agreed with him, and they sat back and relaxed to watch the upcoming matches.
The arena was still pretty empty since it was just lower ranks, still wrestling. Just like if anyone showed up to the emperor’s box, most people didn’t show up until the Juryo division started wrestling. About halfway through, some attendants came over with lunch Hiroshi had ordered before the junior tournament started.
It was mostly finger foods, sausages and cured meats, along with some fruit and cheese. Then there was a little dish of rice and a pot of tea for the family. The trio next to them ordered some food that would be delivered a little later. It turned out they had pretty much the same thing Hikari had ordered, except Ezra got something called a hot dog.
“Ah, it’s from my homeland to the west. It’s basically just a sausage where the meat is ground a little smaller than a sausage. Then you put it in a bun and add the toppings of your choice. Except that ketchup stuff. Don’t put ketchup on a hot dog,” Ezra explained with a look of disgust. “Bunch of weirdos,” he kept mumbling as he ate his lunch, which had mustard on it.