Hiroshi: Tale of a Sumotori

In the morning, Hiroshi tried to ignore the sun burning down into his eyes from the sun in the window. He had been trying to ignore Ezra wandering around and going to the bathroom repeatedly. Tossing and turning and trying to go back to sleep. It was the knocking that finally woke him up.
"Yes?" Ezra called after the second round of knocking.
"The Oyakata has instructed me that it is time to wake you. He is waiting for you in the lobby. May I come in?A meek voice spoke, seeming to belong to someone forced to do this by someone powerful.
Hiroshi was looking at Ezra, still under his covers, and gave the older man a shrug. Ezra just sighed and sat up on the bed after throwing the covers off. "Yes, I suppose you can."
Hiroshi groaned and sat up as well, grateful his stomach was no longer bothering him. He heard the jingling of metallic keys, and then the lock clicked open and the sliding door slid into the wall. The man came in and he looked about like Hiroshi expected. A small man, young. His hair was black and short cropped, and he was clean shaven. He wore what appeared to the lower members of the staff uniform. Simple but nice black pants and a tight fitting white button-up shirt.
"He instructs master Hiroshi to get ready for practice. You and the oyakata will have a simple breakfast in the courtyard of fruit and cheese with baked bread while Hiroshi trains." The man paused for a moment. "If that's acceptable?" He almost didn't seem to want to add that last part. He sounded like he was almost begging Ezra and Hiroshi to agree.
"Well, if that's what the Oyakata wants, that's what the Oyakata gets. He pays me too," Ezra said with a shrug.
The man visibly brightened at Ezra's willingness to go with the flow. "I will tell him you both will be down in a few minutes," he said and gave the pair of them a bow before turning and leaving, and sliding the door behind him.
It only took the pair a few minutes to wash their face in a basin in the room's corner and get dressed. They packed their clothes away in their respective bags and got dressed for the day. Ezra wore plain, threadbare black and gray robes once more and Hiroshi put on his mawashi with his simple brown robe over it. He didn't want to walk through the respectable inn in just the mawashi.
Hiroshi had to shield his eyes with his hand when first walking outside. There wasn't a cloud in the sky to block the bright morning sun. It took him several moments and blinks to find the Oyakata sitting right where he sat the night before picking from a platter of berries and fruit. While Hiroshi tried to hide his eyes from the sun, Ezra just glared at it and grumbled about why it had to be so damn bright while they were outside.
Ezra moved and sat in his spot next to Kenjiro and picked up a strawberry from the tray, taking a bite, and then moaned in pleasure.
"Where did they get these from? This might be the best strawberry I've ever eaten," Ezra said, and shoved the rest of the berry in his mouth.
Hiroshi's eyes went wide and went towards the platter with a hand extended so he could get one.
"No, not for you. Not yet. You must work out, and then we'll pack you a container to eat in the carriage on the road," Kenjiro scolded Hiroshi and pointed at the spot Hiroshi was working out the previous night.
Hiroshi nodded his head and walked over after he took off his kimono and set it on the bench next to where Kenjiro was seated. He set about doing shikos just as he had the night before while he tried not to watch the other two not eat fruit and pastries.
"It will only be a short workout this morning since we need to get back to Yoshino today. I have business I need to attend to at the beya and it'll be better if you're there early. You can see how life goes when it comes to dinner and such in stable life," Kenjiro explained after he drank some tea.
Hiroshi was in the middle of a crouch and he grunted out a simple "yes master" before he picked himself back up and hoisted his leg into the air.
The pair sat and watched, Kenjiro stood and went to Hiroshi every so often to correct his form. The Oyakata was never too stern with the young sumotori, which Hiroshi appreciated. He came off like a firm but fair master, and just wanted the best for the young hopeful. Kenjiro knew his students reflected him, so he wanted his mentee's to have a stable foundation and knowledge of the correct way to do things.
He cycled through some other exercises, only doing about an hour each. He did his shikos and then went through some movement techniques. Rotating through a set of each suri-ashi, which meant he had to squat down and keep his elbows tucked into his body then slide his feet across the dirt, it was important to keep his feet connected to the ground. There was koshi-wari. It was basically a slow squat, keeping his knees as far apart as possible. This helped Hiroshi to get and stay low for the tachiai. Then finally there was mata-wari. It helped improve flexibility. He sat in the dirt with his legs wide and the goal was to bend all the way forward so his head touched the ground. The boy wasn't quite flexible enough to get that low, but he worked on it.
Hiroshi had grunted and groaned and stretched and did exactly as his new master told him. He did it obediently, and without question. The boy was grateful for the lessons. He didn't know about some of these exercises or how they would improve his sumo, but the Oyakata took his time and was patient, explaining proper forms and why each exercise would help the young sumotori.
Kenjiro instructed Hiroshi for his first set, and then watched and made corrections when the boy did his second. Finally, for the third set, he left him alone and just watched. Hiroshi noticed the unapproving looks Kenjiro was giving him. He needed more practice, and hopefully when he got to the beya, seeing others, he'd be able to get the hang of it. He couldn't have been doing too bad though, because the Oyakata didn't correct him.
"Alright. I think it's time to leave," Kenjiro said after Hiroshi had cycled through and done three sets of each exercise. He looked over to Ezra, who was leaning up against the trunk of a tree that was planted conveniently behind where the old man sat. His eyes were closed, and he was snoring lightly.
Kenjiro frowned and reached over from his seat and prodded the old man to wake. "Are you ready to leave, or do you need more beauty rest?"
Ezra snorted loudly and looked at Kenjiro incredulously. "You don't think I'm beautiful the way I am?"
Kenjiro just rolled his eyes and ignored the comment. "Go and tell the front desk we're leaving, will you? They'll get the carriage ready for us. They should have brought our luggage down already," he instructed the carriage driver. Ezra simply nodded his head and stood with a grunt before wandering off inside to do as he was bid.
While Kenjiro dolled out orders to Ezra, Hiroshi stood patiently, waiting at attention. He was probably supposed to have gone to clean himself and get dressed again, but he waited. Once Kenjiro looked back at the boy before he could say anything, Hiroshi bowed to his master.
"Thank you for the instruction today, Master," he said solemnly and lifted his back and head and looked up at the Oyakata.
Kenjiro smiled and nodded his head. "It was and always will be my pleasure to teach. Now wash up and get your robes on. It's time to go. We should make the city of Yoshino before night falls," he told his pupil before heading inside, telling Hiroshi to meet them when he was finished.
It didn't take long for the crew to be back in the carriage and rolling away from the inn with the luggage on top. Hiroshi sat on the bench next to Kenjiro eating from a small to-go container of all the food he had packed in it. Some fruit, and probably too many of the sweetbreads and treats.
He was licking some frosting off of one of his fingers, savoring the sweet stickiness when they passed through the gate to leave the town. Hiroshi noticed a beggar in black threadbare robes standing on just the other side of the gate guards. The man had long black hair pulled back in a loose ponytail and a scraggly black beard. The beggar didn't move until the carriage was fully out of the gate and the gate was closed behind them, then he moved towards the carriage. That was when Hiroshi also noted the man wore dark glasses and was using a cane.
Hiroshi watched the blind man move towards the carriage while Ezra was speaking to the guard gates. The carriage was not moving while they settled the business of leaving the city. While the man appeared to be blind, sweeping the cane back and forth in front of him. Hiroshi noticed the beggar moved right towards them. Hiroshi furrowed his brow and looked past Kenjiro's leaned back, apparently sleeping form.
"Master, there's a beggar coming over here," Hiroshi told him. He felt the need to warn his master that a stranger was coming over. Something about the man, the way he moved right towards them, made Hiroshi uneasy.
"Alms, my lord. Alms for a poor beggar?" the voice came, scratchy and haggard from outside the Oyakata's window, jarring Hiroshi.
How did the man make it over so quickly? And so well timed? Ezra had just finished speaking with the guards and had heard him start and then stop the horses once the beggar was at the door. He cursed and fought with the reins, as the horses were no longer sure what they should be doing.
Kenjiro now opened his eyes and looked at the haggard man. His hair and beard were greasy and badly needing a trim. He couldn't see anything behind the dark shades the man wore, and he reeked of stale sake and smoke and who knew what else. Hiroshi had to lean back to the other side of the carriage while the beggar leaned in close to Kenjiro. The beggar leaned in even closer, his entire upper half now practically inside the window on the carriage door.
Hiroshi was practically gagging from the smell while Kenjiro just sighed and reached into his pocket. He pulled some coins from the beggar and when he went to hand them. The beggar used this to his advantage. The dirty man grabbed Kenjiro's hand and used the leverage to pull himself close to the powerful Oyakata. Hiroshi could see the man's lips move, but he couldn't hear anything other than something about a father. Hiroshi also noticed that even though this man was the epitome of disgusting, his teeth… his teeth looked perfect.
Kenjiro's demeanor changed instantly once the beggar finished speaking. His eyes went dark, and his face, previously placid and simply annoyed, turned dark and full of anger.
"What?!" He shouted at the dirty man. "You dare?!" Kenjiro's hand flew towards the man's face, and while the man was practically inside the carriage, the former sumotori powerhouse rocked him out and down towards the ground.
The beggar stumbled and fell down into the dirt in a clump.
"Wait, Kenjiro, no!" Ezra shouted from the seat on top of the carriage.
The Oyakata wasn't listening. He was already out of the carriage advancing on the beggar. "You should have just taken the coin and left. Not try to be some messenger," he scolded.
"Wait, Rei won't…." The beggar had started, but before he finished the statement, Kenjiro reached down and throttled the man in the gut with his massive fist.
Hiroshi furrowed his brow. Who is Rei? Rei the father of the Kami? He wondered silently, but shook his head. That couldn't be it. What would the father of the kami care about what the mortals were doing when he had the entire Heavens to worry about?
There was a flash of light in the clear sky. It was almost out of Hiroshi's field of view, but it practically blinded the boy. A bright streak coming from the Heavens of electric red and blue and Hiroshi fell back off the seat and onto the ground of the carriage. He blinked his eyes, trying to get rid of the light that seared itself into his sight for a moment.
Hiroshi fumbled in the carriage, trying to climb back to his seat. When he finally got up, Kenjiro had the beggar slung over his shoulder like the dirty man was only a sack of potatoes. Ezra put a hand on the larger man's shoulder.
"Master, you'll regret this," he said.
Kenjiro ignored him and carried the man off. The guards did nothing to stop any of the commotion. The carriage and beggar were outside of town limits, and they didn't care what happened outside that gate. They were already dealing with the next group in line to enter or leave the town.
Ezra looked back at Hiroshi, who was still unsure exactly what was happening. "This is what I was talking about," he grumped to the boy.
"Oyakata is quick to anger. There haven't been reports of him doing anything to his disciples, so you don't need to worry, but…" Ezra trailed off and shrugged. "Who knows, boy? Watch yourself when you're there. If you get a bad feeling, then get the hell out."
Hiroshi looked at Ezra. The streak no longer burned his retinas, and he nodded his head. "Yes," was all he said simply.
Kenjiro carried the blind man somewhere off in the distance. Bending over, Ezra retrieved the cane left forgotten in the dirt. Hiroshi saw the old man give it a funny look, but only for a moment. The old man just looked off in the distance where Kenjiro carried him. The wall sectioned off into a little area they couldn't quite see. Eventually, he shook his head and spit in the dirt before he tossed the cane back down.
He was only gone a few moments, and the pair heard nothing coming from where Kenjiro returned from. He came alone, though. The blind man was probably on the ground in a pile.
"Did you…" Ezra had started. "Is he alive?"
Kenjiro looked at Ezra and rolled his eyes. "Of course he's alive Ezra, get up in your seat, let's go. We're burning daylight."
Ezra stood there and narrowed his eyes at Kenjiro for a moment before shaking his head and shrugged before he climbed up and onto his bench. Hiroshi watched his master climb back into the carriage and reach for a bag next to him on the bench and pull out a towel. He wiped away blood from his knuckles and he grumbled softly. Hiroshi wasn't sure what to do, so he just sat there diagonally from his master and stared out of the window.
They rode what seemed an eternity in silence. Hiroshi was once more getting that uneasy feeling in his stomach, nervous around his master. He had relaxed after dinner and the little training they had done together, but after the last commotion, Hiroshi was no longer sure. Should he have stayed home with his mother and sister? Stayed and tried to help take care of the family? He had his woodworking. He could keep progressing and learning and then maybe open a shop like his father had.
"I'm sorry Master. Sorry I couldn't help with the stranger," Hiroshi broke the silence. "It was all too surprising. I couldn't help fight him off." Hiroshi bowed his head towards Kenjiro, who was sitting and stared out of the window. He seemed content with the silence.
Kenjiro looked over at his disciple and sighed softly. "Hiroshi, do you know what a cultivator is?"
"Just the same as everyone else knows, I'd imagine, Master. They're spiritual fighters, warriors. They believe there's an aura in the world and they cultivate it to become immortal," Hiroshi explained. He was drawing back on knowledge his father once told him. Back when Jiro was still explaining the pre-bout rituals of the sumorti.
"Yes, those are the basics. There was nothing you could have done against that man. He may not have looked at it, but he was a middling cultivator," Kenjiro now opened his eyes and looked at Hiroshi.
"That's why his teeth were so nice!" Hiroshi exclaimed at the realization. Kenjiro smirked, but nodded his head. "Yes, he looks like a rough beggar, and he probably is, but…" he explained and shrugged before he leaned back in his seat once more. "Not everything is as it seems. You could have done nothing against that man, no matter how feeble he may have seemed. There is no need to be sorry."
Hiroshi's mind now raced. His master wasn't a cultivator, he was a retired rikishi and stablemaster. How did he fight against a cultivator? The beggar seemed powerless against Kenjiro. Although the Oyakata said the beggar was a middling cultivator, Kenjiro is a retired Yokozuna. That must be why, Hiroshi told himself with a soft nod.
"Speak your mind," Kenjiro interrupted the boy's thoughts. "I see your mind racing."
Hiroshi looked up to his Master and bowed his head and tried to lie out his thoughts, explaining his thoughts on the strength difference between the two men.
"You have it. A lower level cultivator is still nothing compared to a man who has trained his whole life in sumo. We have an inner strength that the lower level of body cultivators can't compare to, especially if you've reached the height of Yokozuna," Kenjiro explained.
Hiroshi nodded his head and leaned back in his seat, content with the explanation.