Hiroshi grunted as his body crashed into his opponent's. This boy was about as big as he was, just as round anyway, but a little shorter. He had the shaved head of someone who was newer to this and still had a baby face. Not that it was unusual amongst the sumotori. Even Nishikigi still had a bit of a baby face and he was in his thirties and a yokozuna. Other than knowing the boy's name was Tahara, Hiroshi knew nothing about him.
Hiroshi could push his opponent away from him and then went to his standard pushing and thrusting. Hiroshi's hands came out and his left thrusted towards Tahara's upper chest to push him away. The boy dodged Hiroshi's thrust and came in close. Hiroshi's opponent moved much faster than Hiroshi thought he should and was surprised by the sudden burst of movement from the shorter round boy. He didn't have a chance to pull his arm back before Tahara had Hiroshi's wrist locked in his hands.
Tahara used his advantage to get in close to Hiroshi and grab at his belt. One hand still held Hiroshi's wrist and pushed his arm out of the way. While Hiroshi's other hand went out to try and stop his opponent from advancing, he was too slow. Tahara's head was pushed into Hiroshi's chest and Hiroshi felt the tightened grip on his belt. Hiroshi's right hand was pushed up and out of the way at an odd angle, so he couldn't really do anything with it.
The pair stood there a moment, Tahara breathing heavily into Hiroshi's chest from his burst of movement. Hiroshi took this moment to run through his options and try to fight to get his arm free. He did nothing major, not wanting to goad Tahara into using his leverage and try to push Hiroshi out of their makeshift ring.
Kenjiro's newly chosen disciple wasn't known as a technical wrestler. He wasn't known to get in close and grab belts and try to control the opponent that way. Still though, Hiroshi had an idea. He wasn't sure if it would work as well on an opponent as round as he was, but this was practice, right? Surely it wouldn't be too bad if he lost one practice bout. Hiroshi grabbed Tahara's mawashi, and the boy didn't try to resist. He didn't want to give up the grip on Hiroshi's belt.
Tahara grunted now and tried to push against Hiroshi. His cheek pushing into Hiroshi's chest. Hiroshi matched the grunt and dug his feet in as well as he could into the hardwood floor and pushed back. Hiroshi's problem, though, was that Tahara had the lower stance. Then there was the added problem that his arm was still at this awkward angle that couldn't do anything. Hiroshi resorted to the only weapon he knew he had in his arsenal: his belly.
Another loud grunt, exhaling the air from his lungs, he lunged his stomach out towards his opponent. He tried to aim his gut towards the opposite side of where he held on to Tahara's mawashi. Midsection pushed out, and hand held firm on the other boy's belt. His maneuver worked, Tahara was pushed off balance and lost his footing. He fell face first into the ground with a loud thump. Hiroshi panted and looked up for a moment.
As his head looked up, he saw Botan standing at the staircase. His arms were folded across his chest, and there wasn't a crack in his stoic expression. Still though, and Hiroshi could have imagined it, he saw the master give a nod of approval at Hiroshi. The sumotori tried, and failed, to hide the smile from the nod and nodded his head in return. He then watched Botan turn and head back downstairs to check on the bouts between the rikishi.
The Shifu from the Ichiman stable growled in frustration at watching one of his disciples lose. Hiroshi reached down and helped the boy to his feet before they went to their respective sides and gave a bow. When Hiroshi stood back up, he saw Ezra relaxing on the couch with a wide grin on his face and he nodded to the boy. Hiroshi returned the gesture and left the makeshift ring afterwards.
From there, the others had a few bouts and Hiroshi watched. The whole time, he could feel Ren's eyes on him, glaring at him. He ignored the other smaller boy and concentrated on watching the bouts. Hiroshi even had time to watch Ren battle Ansei and surprisingly, beat him. Ren picked up a few tricks since they had met at the finals back home. Hiroshi's old nemesis also seemed to knock away some of the fear Hiroshi had seen when they fought.
Botan and Kenjiro both had come up randomly throughout the day to check on the juniors and see how everything was going. Ezra was also mostly watching with some interest, though his attention wavered as the morning went on and he drifted in and out of sleep. Their own Shifu had never left, and instead chose to just stand in the corner and glower over everything. He didn't even smile when one of his own disciples won their practice bout. Hiroshi had wondered if it was mandatory for the assistant coaches to be miserable curmudgeons.
"Hiroshi, you next. Go against Ren," the Shifu ordered. His order came out of nowhere and as soon as Huan knocked their other junior disciple from the ring.
Hiroshi's eyes went wide, and he bowed towards their Shifu, and wondered if that was the actual title of the assistant coach, or the man's name. He shook the thought away as he lifted his head and went towards the makeshift dohyo. When he looked across, he found Ren was already there, his fists pressed against the ground waiting. Hiroshi narrowed his eyes at Ren and then looked back up at their Shifu. He just motioned for Hiroshi to get on with it.
Deep breath in, and exhale. Hiroshi crouched down, one fist touching the floor, and he stared Ren in the eyes. They looked different when he met the boy before. He was determined now. Any hint of fear the boy showed before was gone. In fact, Hiroshi saw the opposite in Ren's eyes now. Pure determination, and maybe… hate?
Hiroshi crouched there, only one fist touching the floor as his eyes stared into Ren's. The only thing that he heard in the room was their breathing. He was trying to match his opponent's breath. Hiroshi paused his breathing for a moment and exhaled right as Ren did. At the same time, his other fist hit the ground, and he charged forward towards his smaller opponent. Hiroshi's hands reached out to move into his usual pushing and thrusting. He relied on the simple oshidashi to win his matches.
Ren, however, went low, under Hiroshi's thrusts. The boy dodged around the gerbil's thrusts and immediately went right for Hiroshi's gray mawashi belt. Before Hiroshi even knew what was happening, he was being flipped over. His own inertia being used against him by Ren. Next thing he knew, he was on his back, and he blinked as he looked up to the ceiling. He gave a groan and looked and saw Ren's back as he walked back to his starting position and then saw Kenjiro at the top of the stairs. The Oyakata looked down at Hiroshi, his arms folded across his chest. The displeasure was evident and written on the man's face.
"Come, the sekitori are starting," he commanded stoically before he turned and walked back downstairs.
Hiroshi winced and climbed to his feet before walking over to his position. He and Ren both bowed, Ren not hiding the sneer on his face. When Hiroshi stood back up, he saw Ezra eyeing the boy, considering him. He just shrugged and leaned back on the couch before he closed his eyes once more. He then noticed the sneer on the Ichiman's Shifu's face as well and frowned.
"Dont worry about it, we lost one too," Huan said when he walked up to Hiroshi. He put a hand on his shoulder and nodded towards the door leading to the staircase. "Come on, let's go watch the pros practice. Try to learn a thing or two."
"Yeah, maybe we can watch Yoshitaro get his ass kicked," Ansei chimed in with a grin.
Hiroshi and Huan laughed and nodded their heads as the trio filed in and went to the staircase behind the visiting Shifu and juniors.
As they climbed down, they heard the familiar of skin slapping into skin. It seemed like they came just in time to watch one of the stables rikishi who was currently in Juryo, or division two. They were the first division of wrestlers to receive monthly pay from the Sumo Association in the Empire. Everyone strived to make it to that division at the very least. Hiroshi knew the man's name, Udo, but not much more than that.
Udo seemed to focus more on individual training than training with the rest of the beya. He was there every day, and he did practice matches and the Butsukari training they did. Other than that, the man kept to himself. Hiroshi can't even think of a time when he saw the man talk during family meals outside of the normal pleasantries. One notable thing about him was that he did not yet have a topknot. His black hair greased back until his hair was long enough to wear the sumotori hair style. This told Hiroshi the man had a quick rise through the ranks.
"He was a Junior Yokozuna before he became a rikishi," Itaro's voice piped up, jarring Hiroshi from his thoughts on the man.
Hiroshi looked back at Itaro with wide-eyed surprise. Itaro just gave his friend a nod in response.
"He only spent two bashos in the third division and then he was promoted during the last banzuke. We celebrated his promotion just before you showed up," Itaro explained. "Udo's only a few years older than you. He became the junior Yokozuna and was old enough to skip the tours and stuff you'll have to do if you win the tournament. He was placed right in the third division," Hiroshi's friend continued.
Hiroshi looked back at Udo with his mouth wide in shock. He knew if he became Yokozuna, he'd be placed higher than if he jumped right into being a rikishi like Itaro and some of the others. The good news was that since he was younger than his fellow juniors was that if he didn't win this year. He still had another chance or two before he was too old to be in the junior division. Then, as long as Hiroshi won and became Junior Yokozuna before he was too old, he could still go be a professional rikishi in the third division.
This would also explain the man's odd name. Udo was the name of a plant that grew around some of the empire, and some ate it. Once you became Yokozuna, you received a special name from the Sumo Association that celebrated the town or area you came from. Maybe this man came from a town with a tremendous amount of the plants? Junior Yokozuna's carried their given name throughout their sumo career until they became a full Yokozuna. The thing was, though, Udo was also a nickname for tall lazy people. While this man was tall, the way he was bashing his opponent from the Ichimon stable showed he was anything but lazy.
After Udo won his match, they went through and more of the sekitori practiced their craft. It wasn't a clean sweep for the Hajima stable, like Hiroshi would have thought. These wrestlers from Ichimon were strong, big, and almost brutal in their sumo. Hajima won more than they lost, but some of them were very close.
Both of the Oyakata were watching from Oyakata Kenjiro's normal place. They sat on the raised platform, their feet dangling just above the clay practice ring. They both seemed placid and uncaring about how the matches went. They did give each of their respective wrestlers tips on how to better their sumo. Told them things they could have done better, or how they should have watched for something from their opponent. There was no scolding to be found, at least not from Kenjiro. He was positive and always took more of a grandfatherly role with his rikishi. Kaisho, however, well, he opted to be more like Botan was.
"How about we have our Yokozuna's battle? Show these lower people how to really do it?" Kaisho looked at Kenjiro with a broad smile.
Nishikigi stayed on the left side of the room and watched over everything. Likeways, Zo-Ishi, the Yokozuna from the Ichimon stable, stood on the right. Hiroshi had not seen either of the men do anything during the session besides watch. Occasionally they'd do their own shikos, or do push-ups or various other personal exercises, but other than that, they hadn't done anything all day.
Kenjiro nodded his head in agreement with Kaisho. "Yes, it is almost time for a meal. Our Okami, Auntie Yu, should be almost done with chanko and other various things to eat for us when we break," Kenjiro answered Kaiso.
He then gave the command. Calling out both the wrestler's names. Up to this point, it was a kind of free for all for who wrestled. The men took unneeded orders to fight someone who was about their same rank, and then they just agreed on who to practice against. The area went silent when Kenjiro gave his command and everyone watched their respective Yokozuna walk into the practice dohyo.
Nishikigi looked very unlike the night when Hiroshi was first introduced to the man. Instead of wearing thick-rimmed glasses and a wide smile, the man looked stoic. All the friendliness and sort of dorkiness gone from the man's visage. Zo-Ishi looked very much the same as Nishikigi. Zo-Ishi towered over the Hajima Stable Yokozuna though. He had to be well over a head taller than Nishikigi, and while Nishikigi was more bottom heavy, with a rotund belly and thick thighs. Zo-Ishi had more of an upper body that you could tell the man sculpted after hours in the gym.
The two men had faced off before. They were two of the three current Yokozunas and had battled often against each other if not once a basho, then perhaps every other. Hiroshi wasn't personally aware of which had won more than they lost, but he could tell that even for being a practice bout, both men were taking it as if the winner would win the Emperor's Cup.
The two stared at each other and bowed low to each other in respect. The rest of the ceremony was waved off for practice matches, praying to the Kami, and paying respects to the original Sumotori, Kentaro. Instead, after their bows, they went right to the middle of the practice ring. Each of them putting a single fist on the clay and once more stared meaningfully in their opponent's eyes, waiting for the other fist to drop and start the match.