The boy watched them run into the tunnel and to the left with a smile. He went into the tunnel entrance way, but he went to the right where the locker room was. Hiroshi didn’t find anyone on his walk through the tunnel to the locker room. It was the end of the day and the major tournament had already ended.

  In the locker room, there was only a single janitor working on cleaning the wood and stone. The room had large tubs full of water that swirled around. Magical runes were along the base of these tubs. Cultivators placed there the runes and, as Hiroshi understood it, pulled in aura from the aether to keep the water clean and hot. Unfortunately, the tubs were also off limits to the juniors.

  “Hey, I watched your match,” the janitor pointed at Hiroshi and grinned. “Good sumo,” he nodded with praise.

  Hiroshi smiled at the older bald man that had tired eyes. “Thank you, senior,” he said with a slight bow.

  “You never gave that other boy a chance to do anything. Just…” that’s when the man took a low stance and thrusted his hands out in attacks, mimicking a sumo wrestler. “Went after him. Even when he went for your belt.” The man said and stood straight, still grinning.

  Hiroshi blushed and bowed his head at the old man once more and gave thanks for the compliment. “Thank you sir, but it was just my time,” he said, trying to stay humble as was the sumo way.

  The old man just laughed and nodded his head and turned away from Hiroshi to go clean something else. Hiroshi watched him walk away and smiled before he turned to find the small locker with his clothes in it.

  It took him some time to get out of his mawashi and dry himself off with towels that sat on the bench next to his locker. While he was unraveling the mawashi, he heard the door to the locker fling open.

  “Papa! Papa!” a young boy called out and looked around frantically. He wore simple long pants and a tunic.

  The old man popped around the corner with a scowl. “Dammit, Keisuke, what are you doing in here?”

  The boy waved his hands. “No papa wait, there was an Oyakata in the box today for the last match,” the boy said quickly so he didn’t get the wrath from his father.

  Hiroshi froze, and his breath caught. He tried to not be obvious in his eavesdropping, but he was sure if either of them looked over at him they’d know.

  “Oh, yeah?” the father asked.

  The boy nodded his head vigorously. “Yeah, I just showed some old man up and…” the boy paused and looked around.

  “And what boy, it doesn’t matter. Only Hiroshi is here, and he just won the junior tournament,” the father scolded.

  Hiroshi looked over at them like a surprised deer and a nervous smile.

  The boy ignored the hopeful sumotori. “Oyakata Kenjiro from Hajima stable was there,” he said. He tried to lower his voice but in his excitement it was one of those shout whispers.

  Hiroshi grabbed his rough brown kimono and squeezed it tight. He tried not to exclaim or shout or jump for joy. The boy tried to remain calm and dignified as code dictated. Inside, his heart was thumping again, and the blood pumped in his ears like he was in the match against Ren once more.

  Oyakata Kenjiro was watching him? The man was one of the greatest yokozuna sumo had ever seen.

  Father and son spoke more and Hiroshi thought the father was scolding the son, but Hiroshi didn’t hear any of it. He just dressed in the kimono quickly and hoped he’d be able to wear something made of nicer fabric quickly. This kimono was made of wool, and it felt unpleasant against the skin. He forgot all about drying himself off and slid on his sandals and rushed out of the bathroom.

  “Hey,” the old man called to him. “Good work again. Have a good night,” he said with a wink.

  Hiroshi turned and bowed quickly while he was stepping backwards. “Thank you, senior, thank you very much.” He was courteous enough to wait a few steps until he turned back around and moved through the hallways of the arena to get out. He heard the old man laugh at him as he rushed.

  Once he opened the door to exit the arena, he felt the cool afternoon air on his face. He looked around frantically for the pair that was waiting for them. His mother was sitting on a bench under a cherry blossom tree while Asami played in the dirt. It was the perfect time of the year for the cherry blossoms. They were just about to blossom and the colors matched the pink late afternoon sky perfectly.

  “Moooooooom!” Hiroshi yelled as he ran over to her. His wooden sandals clapped along the stone walkway as he ran over until he made it to the dirt.

  Asami looked up, and Hikari stood. She looked around cautiously as she thought something might be wrong. When Hiroshi reached her, he doubled over, trying to catch his breath. The run wasn’t far, but sumo wrestlers aren’t known for prolonged action. The matches only lasted about a minute on average, after all.

  “What’s wrong, my little gerbil?” she asked him and put a hand on his back.

  He panted. “Oyakata Kenjiro…” he breathed out. “He was there.” Another deep breath.

  Asami looked confused. She didn’t know any of the terms, so she stood and put her hands on her hips. “Who’s that?”

  Hikari, she was married to Jiro long enough to know who it was. “Oh, Hiroshi. That’s great. Maybe he’ll be at the awards ceremony in the morning.”

  Hiroshi’s eyes went wide. He had forgotten about the award ceremony. He stood up straight. “Maybe he will,” he said as he started breathing heavily again.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Hikari laughed and shook her head. Asami shrugged and went back to the dirt, no longer interested in what they were talking about. It only lasted a moment before she looked up from her little pile. “Are we going home to make dumplings and noodles now?”

  Hikari nodded her head and took her daughter’s hand. The three of them walked along for a bit before Asami got curious.

  “So who’s this Kenjiro person?” she looked back at Hiroshi curiously.

  Hiroshi smiled proudly and stepped up next to her. They were interrupted a couple of times by people who wished to say hello to the junior sumotori and he got congratulations from a couple of people who must have been at the tournament. When he could, he explained.

  “He’s a very famous stablemaster in Yoshino. Kenjiro is a retired yokozuna and is a legend for having the most wins of anyone. He was fierce and dominating in the dohyo,” Hiroshi explained.

  “And what does a stablemaster do?” She asked as they navigated the busy downtown area of the small city.

  The arena was located right next to the primary shopping district of the city.

  “He’s a coach. He trains the people in his beya how to sumo, and he can also help them with a lot more if the person needs it,” Hiroshi continued patiently.

  Hikari had stopped walking without the other two noticing. Asami had her arm all the way extended before she and Hiroshi looked back.

  “Mama?” they both asked together.

  She just stared at the end of the street. “We should have gone another way, I… I wasn’t thinking.”

  Hiroshi turned his head and lowered his head with a sigh. Asami just looked confused. She was too young to know. She had never been to her father’s shop. “What’s wrong mama?” she asked innocently.

  Hikari put her head down and walked quickly, trying to ignore the store that her husband worked out of and sold his art for so long. “Nothing, come on. It’s getting cold.”

  Asami had to struggle to keep up with their mother with her little legs. Hiroshi paused, though, and looked inside the window of the shop. It was bare now, minus the counter where the customers would stand. It was a mostly bare building, anyway. He used most of the room to hang the wooden paintings he sold or to paint them. He stared through the window and tried to ignore the hot streaks of water rolling down his face again.

  “Hiroshi, let’s go,” his mother called him coldly. “We don’t need to be out here anymore.”

  Hiroshi nodded his head slowly, but he didn’t turn away. He just looked inside. He’d often hang out here waiting to go to the sumo tournaments. Or after practice, he’d end up here to help his father close up, and they’d go home together. “Yes mama,” he said slowly.

  “Hiroshi,” her voice was firmer this time.

  He blinked and snapped out of the daze he was in. “Yes mama, I’m coming. Sorry,” he said, as he could finally turn and walk over to them. They continued their walk home in silence. It wasn’t much further than from there, anyway.

  When they got home, Hiroshi immediately went into his room to get ready for a bath. He still was quite stinky from the fighting that day. His room was on the other side of the house, so he had to walk through the kitchen and dining room, which was to the right of the door, and the living room to the left. There was a small hallway that had four doors. One for each of the kids, one for the parents, and then a bathroom.

  Hiroshi walked into the bathroom and lamented he wasn’t able to use the big tubs in the arena. Their tub had the same runes as the one there, they just weren’t as powerful and it was much smaller of a tub. Hiroshi could barely lay flat in it with his belly. He used the lukewarm water and soap wash and exited the room after about half an hour.

  Hikari and Asami were busy in the kitchen making dumpling dough and filling them. He walked over to check on their progress and grinned when he stole a sip of the broth that was bubbling away on the stove. He gave his approval with a loud moan, which earned him a glare from his mother.

  “You go wait out in the living room and relax. Dinner will be rea-”

  A hard knock on the door interrupted Hikari, and they stared at each other. Hiroshi went towards the door, unsure who would visit at dinner time. All their friends knew he had the tournament today, and they’d be home late.

  There was another knock, and Hiroshi froze. No one had knocked that hard since the town guard came to notify the family they found Jiro in an alley. Sure the guard wouldn’t be coming here again? There couldn’t be another emergency that would deal with them. The whole family was here.

  When he opened the door, he stood there once more frozen by what he saw. The man in the foyer to their house was huge. He almost didn’t fit through the front door. Hiroshi couldn’t even begin to guess how tall the man was or how much he weighed. He wore the black and grey dress robes the shimpan wore back at the arena.

  The man smiled and looked down at the boy. “You must be Hiroshi,” he said easily.

  “Mo… Mom…” was all he could eek out.

  Hikari grunted and looked at her son. “What? Who is it?”

  He stepped back to allow the man inside the house. “Mom, it’s uh…”

  The man stepped inside and looked over at Hikari and gave a soft bow of his head. The Oyakata had to duck to come into their house because he was so tall. “Good evening ma’am, I’m Oyakata Kenjiro.”

  “Oh Hiroshi told me about you! You’re a sumo coach!” Asami shouted out and raised her hands full of ground pork.

  Hikari went wide eyed and grabbed a towel to wipe her own hands. “Oyakata, hello,” she stepped out from behind the counter that divided the kitchen from the living area.

  “Ah, you may just call me Kenjiro,” he said warmly.

  She bowed to him and motioned him to the living room. “Come, come, have a seat Oyakata,” she said in shock to herself that she was now entertaining a stable master and retired yokozuna.

  Hiroshi went wide eyed and disappeared. He was currently wearing comfortable short pants that fit his round body easily and just a loose fitting tunic. He loved being home and being able to wear these clothes, so he didn’t have to wear the scratchy brown kimono.

  “Wait, you can’t sit there!” Asami yelled from the kitchen just as Kenjiro was about to sit in a large overstuffed chair.

  Hiroshi rushed out of the room when he heard his sister half dressed, his kimono hung open as he tried to tie the obi in place. He was glaring in Asami’s direction before he even entered the living room.

  “That’s Papa’s chair,” she called. “You can’t sit there.”

  Kenjiro had stopped himself from sitting and looked around awkwardly as he was in the awkward position of almost sitting without having his butt actually in the seat.

  Hiroshi looked at him wide-eyed, unsure of how to handle the situation. On the one hand, Asami was right. That was their papa’s chair, and no one had sat in it after they found out what happened to Jiro.

  Hikari frowned. “Go ahead and have the seat, Oyakata. My husband will not be home for dinner.” She said it quickly, she got it out before she changed her mind and as soon as she said it, she was gone. She went down the small hallway and closed the bathroom door firmly behind her.

  “Uhm, I’m sorry if I…” Kenjiro wasn’t sure what to say, so he looked at Hiroshi awkwardly when he sat.

  Hiroshi smiled and bowed at the man he respected so much. “Dinner should be ready shortly,” he said as he could hear soft cries coming from the bathroom. She locked herself in. He walked over and helped Asami try to get dinner ready.

  ROYAL road.

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  P.S. Huge props to the gang over in the Immersive Ink discord server. Incon is the MVP for helping me come up with a plan of attack for this story.