He felt his shoulder being nudged, and he groaned, fighting to stay asleep.

“Come on, we need to get the dohyo ready. You’re always so hard to get up,” Huan pleaded with Hiroshi and nudged his shoulder one last time.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Hiroshi said after a loud snort, and opened his eyes. He sat up and found the other two juniors standing over him and he wiped the sleep from his eyes.

“You’ve been here a week now. You’d think you’d be used to waking up early by now,” Ansei said and shook his head.

“I’m used to it, I’m used to it,” Hiroshi lied and stood shaking the sleep from his consciousness.

The other two laughed and shook their heads. “Yeah, you seem like it,” Ansei said before he turned and left the room. “Come on, let’s go.”

The boy followed the pair out of the room, still trying to rub the sleep from his eyes and wake up fully. If he had grunted when he stubbed his toe on the door that wasn’t fully slid open, neither of the other boys said anything about it. He knew they’d all be grunting and groaning soon enough.

Once the trio was downstairs, they didn’t care as much about being as quiet. There were many enchantments and formations carved into the training room’s walls and ceiling to keep the sound out of the rest of the house. They changed into their mawashi’s that hung at the end of the long row of pegs that held up everyone’s training belts.

Hiroshi stared at the mound of clay in the middle of the room and grunted. Ansei went towards it first and Hiroshi followed, with Huan bringing up the rear.

“Why can’t we just leave the ring made the night before?” Huan gripped while they got the tools out to spread the clay around. They were long wooden poles that turned into a sort of rake. Instead, the rake was just a flat wooden piece. It worked great to spread the clay out.

“Eh, the clay gets all messed up from practice. It’s good we do it every day. Gives us a fresh start on the day,” Ansei said as they worked on spreading it all out.

It didn’t take the trio long, and aside from casual grunts, they worked in silence. Once the clay was spread all out, Hiroshi went to grab another tool they needed. It was a thick plank with rope on either end. The other two got one as well, and they went about stamping down the clay. They’d put one foot on the board and stamp it down until the clay was hard and compact under their feet and then move on to the next little section. They were just finishing up when Botan entered.

“Good, you three got done. Today will be a big day,” he said as he climbed onto the small lifted platform where the Oyakata usually sat to watch near the door.

The other three turned and looked at Botan, still holding their planks, and Hiroshi cocked an eyebrow. Botan gave a very uncharacteristic grin and a nod, a glint in his eye. “It should be hard, fun. You three should be able to learn a lot from it,” he continued. Botan looked like he always did, black and white cultivator robes, his hair pulled back in that tall topknot he wore. Face had a light beard growing on it.

The three looked at each other, not sure what to do or say. They didn’t want to question their master and ask what the hell he was going on about. Hiroshi figured they would find out soon enough. They got little time to be awkward, however, the rest of the stable was lumbering in. They watched the boys finish up, and Itaro even grabbed another of the planks and helped stamp down the last bits of the dohyo.

It wasn’t long after that the entire stable, even Nishikigi, was lined up waiting for Oyakata Kenjiro. Hiroshi had to stop himself from turning back to look at Nishikigi and the other sanyaku wrestlers. They didn’t normally come to daily practice, but had their own private training regimes. Maybe Botan was right, and today was going to be a special day. Hiroshi almost jumped for joy at the thought of not having to do shikos until he thought his legs were going to fall off.

The Oyakata stood there in what looked to be someone of his nicer kimonos. They looked silk and were a dull blue color with red dragons embroidered around the sleeves. He looked down at the wrestlers in his beya with a smile. “Well, today, as some of you may have guessed, and Botan hinted at, we aren’t having regular practice. I spoke with Oyakata Keisho to bring his wrestlers here so we can all practice.”

No one said anything but Hiroshi and the other two juniors, who all gave a slight gasp. Kenjiro nodded his head and smiled softly down at the three kids. “Yes. We are now only a month away from the Summer Basho that’s held right at the arena near the Emperor’s palace. I have even received word that he will be there. He looks forward to attending, in fact. He’s sad that his duties haven’t allowed him to watch in a while. Emperor Sasuke is a big fan, and one of the few reasons we’re still able to compete. His funding, even against his advisor’s wishes and advice, keeps us so we can still show our worship to Kentaro.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

They all bowed their heads at this. Hiroshi knew this as well. Sumo was a dying sport, getting less new disciples and fewer people attending the bashos. It was one reason Kenjiro went and found Hiroshi to begin with and brought him here. There were still some die-hard fans of the sport and ritual, and they certainly helped keep the sport alive.

“I expect you all to take this seriously. Keisho’s stable isn’t one to take lightly. He’s known as the second best beya in the Empire, but I expect you all to show why we’re the first. I’m told he even has a few junior disciples he’s bringing with him, so you three will practice a little as well,” he said the last and looked at the three juniors with a firm nod.

“I have Ezra making a makeshift dohyo upstairs for you three to practice,” Kenjiro continued. “Not that he didn’t grump about it.”

Hiroshi made a grunting noise. He wanted to stay down here and watch the rikishi practice. He had hoped he could learn something by watching his elders practice and fight the other powerful wrestlers from another beya. Botan said nothing, but Hiroshi saw the glare he received from the assistant coach.

“Don’t fret, we will call you down once the sekitori match up and practice,” he answered the grunt with a soft smile. Hiroshi knew he had meant the second division wrestlers, the first group of wrestlers to get paid a monthly stipend directly by the SSA, the Sasuke Sumo Association. “Until then, you’re expected to work hard and practice until we tell you it’s time.”

“Thank you Oyakata,” the three chorused together and bowed their heads.

“Now, get in formation. We will do some practice until the other beya arrives,” Botan shouted to the group.

The group of sumotori spread out at Botan’s rough command and squatted down to start their shikos. None of them dared to make a sound of disapproval. They all feared the wrath of Botan. Kenjiro nodded his head in approval of Botan’s command and then sat on the elevated platform. His legs dangled down, his feet touching the earthen floor below him.

The practice area was now deathly quiet, besides the stamping of feet on clay and Botan walking around the group. He checked forms and used that makeshift hay stick of his to poke and prod the sumotori for corrections. Kenjiro like why’s would just point and give small comments of either encouragement or admonishment at the forms. Neither of them said or did anything to Hiroshi, which fueled the boy to continue to keep lifting his leg as high as he could.

After about an hour, they heard footsteps come downstairs and then Ezra’s head pop out from the stairway. “Oyakata, they’re here. Waiting in the front room. I told them I would check and make sure you were ready,” he informed him.

Kenjiro nodded his head and answered. “Let them know to give us ten minutes so we can stretch. If you can, get the Okami-san and serve them some tea and snacks while they wait.”

Ezra gave a nod of his head and disappeared back up the stairs to follow the command from the stablemaster.

“You heard the Oyakata,” Botan roared.

The entire group finished their current shiko and then stretched. The short stretching session ended with the group on the ground, spread out as far as they could, stretching their legs as wide as they could and bending their backs towards the ground. Some could bend all the way forward so that their faces were in the clay.

Hiroshi, still not limber enough, felt hands on his back and pushed him down further. “Come on, boy, you need to get limber,” he heard Botan grump as the master helped Hiroshi reach the clay.

“Yes Master, thank you,” he said reflexively and groaned as his back was stretched out, probably further than it really should have. Botan knew what he was doing and would not cause the boy harm. He only helped for a moment before he gave a grunt and walked off.

They heard the mulling of heavy feet above them, and one boisterous voice giving commands over the other more muted talking. Hiroshi guessed it was the Oyakata giving orders to his stable. Hiroshi could only imagine the scene upstairs. Auntie Yu diligently handed out tea and cookies while Ezra grumped his way around. The man may have been a good carriage driver and loyal employee, but he was not the friendliest.

“Botan, will you please go grab our guests? Let them know we’re ready when they are,” Oyakata commanded softly.

Botan, who was helping Ansei stretch, looked up and nodded his head before he went upstairs. It wasn’t long after till that boisterous voice rang out once more. “Well, it’s about time. We don’t need tea and cookies. We’re here to practice.”

Botan responded in a softer tone that they couldn’t hear downstairs, but Hiroshi heard the exhale of air of Kenjiro’s nose and the shake of his head. “It’s going to be a long day,” he mumbled to himself softly.

Only a few more minutes later, they heard the pack of large men climb down the stairs. The sumotori who lived here climbed to their feet and shook out their limbs before they watched their training partners for the day entrance. The opposing group of sumotori looked about like any of them did. Only a few smaller rikishi, most of them were notably larger than most of the Kenichi stable. They didn’t have any smaller people like Kenichi had Itari. After the rikishi entered, three smaller forms entered the disciples.

Hiroshi let out an audible groan when he saw someone he recognized; Ren. The boy he beat in the finals at the tournament that brought him here. He looked over at the boy, who sneered in Hiroshi’s direction. Ren mouthed the word. He enunciated each syllable so Hiroshi wouldn’t have doubt what the boy was saying, ‘gerbil.’

Hiroshi just shook his head and looked back up at his Oyakata, who smirked and gave Hiroshi a nod of confidence before speaking. “Alright, if it’s alright with Keisho, the juniors can head right upstairs where Ezra will watch and keep track of their matches and practice. Me, Botan, or Keisho will be up here and there to check on our disciples,” he announced.

Keisho just nodded his head, and the six juniors between the two stables bowed their heads. “Yes, Oyakata,” they all said together before they all climbed up the stairs.

“I’ll have my man Shifu check on them instead of me. He’s better with the juniors,” Keisho said and pointed to another man who was with the rikishi. This man looked like he was a former rikishi himself, one who slimmed down anyway. He was bald now though. After the haircutting ceremony of retirement, he must have shaved his head.

Kenjiro nodded his head “As you will,” he said and then the two began commanding their rikishi to line up on opposite sides of the walls and instructed their stable how the day would go.