The city streets amazed me as we walked along them. Back home, I always wanted to visit Japan, mostly to watch sumo wrestling, but also for the food. Also, just because, well, Japan was kinda cool. I don’t mean to sound like too much of a weeb, and in my defense, I was never too into anime or anything like that. Still, the aesthetic and culture were mostly cool.
The city was bustling and busy. Large buildings everywhere and businesses and shops and restaurants. Honestly, it felt more like a busy modern-day city back home than you’d expect a city in a medieval time period to be. The streets, though, were much narrower than you’d expect from a modern-day city. I could easily see why the guard captain didn’t let me bring my wagon in here. It would have been worse than me trying to drive around through some of those smaller towns in New England.
The neat thing, I thought, was all the different people. You could see the merchants in their stalls trying to sell their various goods. There were peasants and beggars, albeit they usually stayed off to the sides and their numbers were small, I noticed. You saw old men pulling or pushing hand carts dressed as farmers moving around to get wherever they were going to have to go.
This was also something I didn’t particularly like, though as well. It was neat seeing all the different classes of people, but there were so many people. I became a truck driver because I didn’t really like people, and large groups of people even less. This was like a nightmare and I had to fight to keep my anxiety under control. I wasn’t really a super anxious person anyway, but sometimes in sizable crowds… I pushed the thoughts from my head and had Betsy wait a moment for me to get some food at a nearby stall.
We had finally sated our hunger, and I was carrying some grilled meat on sticks. I had a few of them and was taking bites here and there. To get Betsy a treat, I found a man selling roasted nuts. I didn’t think oxen ate nuts, but when I asked if she wanted them, she nodded at me, and she seemed to enjoy them as I fed them to her.
We saw new classes of people as we walked further into the city. I had seen a few people wearing the cultivator robes. Not many, but there were a few. There were also surefire signs of the rich as I got closer to what I thought might have been the heart of the city. The roads got a little wider, and the kimono became the more prevalent choice of clothing outside of the cultivators. The women wore bright flashy colors and some of them had the white painted faces of what I assumed were geishas.
Eventually, I walked up to a random building that a woman was standing out in front of to ask her for directions.
“Do you know where Karyu Teahouse is?” I asked innocently. “I think I got a little turned around.”
The woman was beautiful. The tanned skin and jet black hair with plump red lips and bright green eyes. She had on a kimono that was probably a little shorter than was customary that had gold trim and intricate designs. She gave me a mischievous grin and opened the door she was standing next to.
“You don’t want that stuffy, boring place, trust me sir cultivator. We can make you feel more than cozy right here,” she said with a wink and a grin on those red lips.
My eyes opened wide. “Oh, uh, no… I’m trying to.. Uh…”
I stumbled over my words when I realized what the place was and I took a few steps back until I tripped down the couple of stairs to the little patio area the establishment had.
When I stood, the woman was still standing there with the door open. “No one will think less of you. Your secret is safe with us,” she said, still with that coy smile.
“Oh, no thank you though ma’am,” I said and headed back in the direction me and Betsy had originally come from. It took me a few minutes to realize Betsy wasn’t following me and I realized I had gone the wrong way. When I got back to Betsy, I could feel her laughing at me. Her head even bounced up and down a little as quick exhalations from her nose made a low whistling sound.
A quick look up to the door and the woman was gone. She must have retreated inside when she realized I would not be a paying customer. I headed the direction we were originally going and could still feel Betsy laughing at me.
“I never got any lot lizards back home. I will not get any….” What did they call them here? “Courtesans while I’m here,” I muttered.
As we walked, the businesses seemed to disperse, and everything seemed more like manors and large houses. The manors had gates in front of them and little yards with manicured pieces of land. Zen gardens and large trees that looked like the bonsai trees. There was even a manor that I saw a little pond in front of and a small rock waterfall. I whistled through my teeth.
“Oh, we must be getting into the upscale part of town,” I said to Betsy, who just bellowed in response.
“Does this mean we’re close?” I squinted and looked around. “Why aren’t there any road signs or something? Can part of my cultivation path be just knowing where things are?” I sighed.
Even the crowds had died down in this section of the town. Noise probably goes against the HOA.
I finally see some movement after standing there, just looking around like an idiot. There was a carriage being pulled by a horse heading past where I was standing. “Well, how come he gets to ride?” I idly asked Betsy and shrugged. “Let’s follow him. Maybe they’ll lead us somewhere with more people.”
She nodded her head, and we picked up our pace to a slow jog. The old man that was the driver wasn’t pressing the horses, so it was easy for us to keep pace with him. We stayed far enough back to not draw attention to ourselves. Well, no more attention than an ox with crates tied to its sides and a dude running alongside it could bring.
It was a quick jog, and we stopped when the carriage did. The building the carriage stopped at was a small place that was set back on a little patch of land. There was a small pond by what I assumed was the front door with a fountain. I watched and waited to see what happened when I suddenly felt like a creep.
WHY ARE THERE NO SIGNS?!
A large man stepped out from the carriage wearing a deep blue kimono and had a purple obi. He slicked his hair into a chonmage. I gaped and tapped Betsy repeatedly in excitement. In response, she gave an annoyed bellow, which caused the assumed sumo wrestler to look over at us.
I gave a little wave, and he gave a little wave in return. I closed the gap and ran over to him, and he watched me with a confused expression.
The man was large, over six feet, if I had to guess, and judging from the barrel the man held under his kimono was somewhere around 400 pounds? I blinked and smiled up at him. He just looked at me with a wide smile and watched me behind thick rimmed black glasses. He looked friendly enough and honestly, he kind of looked like one of the wrestlers I really liked to watch back home.
“Sorry, hi, hello,” I said nervously. I wasn’t going to be a nerd or a fanboy about this. “Sorry, excuse me, is this the Karyu Teahouse?”
It took Betsy a minute to catch up since I ran away from her, but when she showed up, the large man looked at us, even more confused.
“It is, but usually farmers and such normally stay…” he had said while he pointed, but I interrupted, waving my hands.
“Oh, sorry, no. I’m delivering,” I said as I patted my trusty ox that had the crates tied around her. Then, for good measure, I clasped my hands together and bowed to the man.
He nodded in understanding. “Oh. Well, yes, you’re in the right place. You’re a cultivator too, huh? Well, come on in, let’s see if we can get you squared away. The ox should probably wait outside though,” he said with a smile before he turned and opened the door to walk into the teahouse.
I nodded and Betsy bellowed as she stepped back. I looked at her and nodded and reached into a pocket and gave her some more peanuts to munch on while I got the lay of the land.
“Oh Nenshoki! Welcome back, welcome back.”
I paused and looked back at Betsy with an open mouth. ‘It’s Nenshoki?!’ I mouthed it to her, and she stared at me.
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“Mama-san, I seem to have found someone looking for your lovely establishment. He said he has a delivery. Oh, here he comes,” Nenshoki said as I walked in the middle of him talking.
“Hello, yes,” I looked around a little for who Nenshoki was speaking with.
The inside of the teahouse was immaculate. There were short tables placed around the room, mostly close to the walls, but there was one long one in the middle of the room. Only two of the tables had customers sitting at them on large overstuffed pillows, enjoying tea and snacks. The walls had beautiful water paintings on them and there were some paper lanterns that hung down from the ceiling, that were currently unlit. The windows high on the walls near the ceilings let in plenty of light for the time being.
I looked at… seriously, did he call her mama-san? Mama-San with a smile. “Hello, my name is Maikeru and I have a delivery from Hirasuke in Meguro,” I explained.
The older woman’s eyes went wide. She was a small older woman with only a few streaks of gray in her jet black hair. She wore her hair down and loose, and her kimono was more subdued in color than those of the women I’d seen in the streets. Honestly, she just gave off a calming presence. This whole place did.
“You brought me…” she smiled widely. “Oh, how excellent? We’ve been waiting. Bring them, will you? I’ll show you where to put them,” she instructed.
I nodded my head and told her I’d be right back. Nenshoki, to my surprise, followed me outside to help. Two trips, each with crates, and we stacked them in what looked like a small kitchen off the side of the dining room. While we walked through the teahouse and brought in the crates, there were a few petite women who roamed around and stayed clear of us as they served the couple of tables of patrons.
The women looked a little more proper than the mama-san. They had their hair done up and had light makeup that only enhanced their natural beauty. They wore ornate jewelry, but not excessively. Just enough to show they were in positions that deemed it mandatory, but not enough to be gauche. The kimonos they wore were the same calming colors as the mama-san’s, though.
Once I and Nenshoki were standing back in the entryway to the teahouse, one server walked up and escorted him to a table in the corner. When I thanked the sumotori for the help, he waved it off and chuckled a little. “Many hands make light work,” he said before he went and sat down.
I looked at Mama-san and smiled, and she went behind the counter that sat in the entryway. “So,” she said simply, and I heard some rustling around.
It only took a minute, and she set down a few golden coins on the counter in front of me. “This is about what I owe you, correct? I’ve already arranged payment with Hirasuke, and he told me to keep some of it to pay you.” She said with a smile.
My eyes got wide, and I reached and tucked the money away. “Yes Mama-San, thank you,” I said with a bow.
“Did you want to have some tea before you go?” she asked me and held an arm out back towards the restaurant in an attempt to take me to a table. “You could sit with the yokozuna.”
Nenshoki WAS THE YOKOZUNA?!
I stared at her dumbly, unsure of what to say.
“I mean, I’d have to ask his permission, of course. Nenshoki is a wonderful man, though, very kind,” she said quickly.
I still wasn’t sure how I ended up sitting here across from Nenshoki. I knew it wasn’t the same Nenshoki as back home. It couldn’t be. That Nenshoki was back home, probably training, getting ready for the January tournament or something. Still, this man looked just like him. He even acted just like Nenshoki acted in the clips and videos I’ve seen of him. Of course, that was just in the public eye, so he could be a complete dick behind closed doors.
“Thank you so much for sitting and having tea with me, yokozuna,” I said dumbly. Was yokozuna a title I should call him? I wasn’t sure.
Nenshoki didn’t really even seem to notice I had said anything for several long moments. I just stared at the man and couldn’t help but fanboy over him. I saw something fire inside his head though and he blinked a moment and looked at me.
“Hm? Oh, it’s fine. My master isn’t due here yet and having tea alone is always so dreadful,” he said as he looked at me and smiled softly.
“Your Oyakata?” I asked and leaned a little forward on my pillow, wide eyed. If Oyakata Enatsu walked in here, I was going to lose it. Shiroi is the GOAT!
Nenshoki’s expression changed, though. I could tell the man was pretending to be in a good mood, but now even the illusion shattered. He gave a shrug. “I suppose. For now, he is. He was never a wrestler, though, so it’s a bit odd. It was odd having him as a toshiyori, but a full-”
“What happened to your last one?” I interrupted the larger man’s musings and scolded myself mentally.
Nenshoki frowned at me and I raised my hands up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ask. I’m just a lover of sumo,” I explained.
“Then I’d think you would have heard what had happened.” Nenshoki’s sorrow went to anger.
Panic set in. This was probably one of the last people in the world I wanted to anger. There might be cultivators here, hell I might be a cultivator, but Nenshoki was large and powerful. You could tell just from looking at him. He could throw me through one of these walls if he wanted to.
“I’ve been on the road. I work as a wagon driver and I’ve missed what happened at the last tournament. Please forgive me,” I said with a bow of my head. I had only heard what happened from Hirasuke and he didn’t seem to know the finer details. If Nenshoki had been training under an actual god, though? I had to get more information out of him, without angering the yokozuna if possible.
“The tournament never happened. Sit up, it’s fine. How could you know?” Nenshoki looked me over and I watched him take a drink from his teacup.
“It never happened? Has a tournament ever been called off before?” I pushed for more knowledge.
“You know, you don’t really look like you’re from around here. How do you know about sumo? Are you from the continent to the north?” Nenshoki asked and narrowed his gaze at me.
I laughed nervously and shook my head. “No, from far away, but….” Shit, but what stupid? I panicked and wondered how I was going to explain knowing so much. Well, you see, I’m from a different world where we have sumo and you’re just a rank-and-file wrestler and definitely not the Yokozuna.
Nenshoki’s eyebrows raised and looked at me as he waited for me to finish my statement. He even took a drink of his tea.
“I’ve been a fan for a while and fell in love with the sport early,” I sputtered out quickly in a jumbled mess. To my surprise, Nenshoki understood me and nodded along with a smile.
“Oh, hello Oyakata Lian.”
I heard the mama’s voice come from the front of the teahouse and Nenshoki looked past me towards the doorway.
“Well, Maikeru, it was good talking to you. My Oyakata is here though and we need to speak. If you don’t mind,” Nenshoki stood while he spoke and gestured away from the table with his arm.
“Oh,” I say, a little surprised and dismayed, our time was cut to an end so abruptly. “Yes, of course, I’m sorry.”
I stand and adjust my robes. “It was a pleasure to talk with you. Thank you for the company,” I say and give him a slight bow before I head to the exit.
I passed by a rather stern looking man who definitely did not fit the typical sumotori body type. He was thin and muscular, with a graying goatee and a topknot that didn’t look like the ozumo topknot. This was more like a modern day man bun that poked up over his head.
He ignored me despite my nod, smile, and attempted greeting. That’s when I felt the power that emanated from the man. I kept walking and then realized from the power and his blue robes style choice that he was a cultivator. I turned and watched the two for a moment before I heard someone clear their throat.
“Rude to try to eavesdrop, you know,” came the older woman’s voice, scolding me.
I turned to the mama and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I just wanted to see if I could find out what happened to the last tournament,” I explained to her.
She sniffed. “I thought you wagon drivers were always in the know? Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she continued to scold me as she shoo’d me from her teahouse.
“Well, if you know, you wanna tell me?” I asked, giving her my most winningest smile.
She tsk’d again but paused and looked me over. I just kept the smile up, knowing she’d break. These old ladies who ran these sorts of places thrived on gossip.
“Okay, but you didn’t hear it from me,” she said and pulled me in close.
“Of course not,” I said with a solemn nod.
“Well, word has it that the tournament came under attack.”
“Attacked? Who’d be crazy en-”
“Shush and I’ll tell you. Now I only know because I entertain a lot of sumo wrestlers here, you see? Not only that, but the boys from the Hajima beya, where Oyakata Lian and Nenshoki come from, frequent this place more than most. Their old Oyakata turned out to be a cultivator. He attacked everyone in the place and almost killed a young boy who just won the junior tournament,” she explained.
I went wide eyed. I went back to my original question, only this time she let me finish asking it.
“The cultivators and sumotori have a longstanding rivalry. To the Kami if I know why. They’re all warriors,” she shrugged. “But that’s what they say happened.”
“So that’s why they have a cultivator as an Oyakata?” I asked, confused.
She shrugged. “He was always friendly with the wrestlers. He used to be one of the emperor’s guards. Or well, the emperor’s father’s guards. His dismissal followed the emperor’s father’s death, and he became an assistant coach there.”
I nodded.
“He can’t be the Oyakata for very long. It’s a black eye to the sumo association they put him in the position to begin with,” she said and shook her head. “It’s too bad everyone from that stable is such wonderful people.”
She looked back over at the pair before she looked back at me. “Anyway, you should be going. I’m sure you have other things to do.”
“I do. Thank you, ma’am,” I say and bow softly before I turn and walk away from her and outside.
She said goodbye as well, and I closed the door behind me when I left. Betsy was right there waiting for me and she gave a low bellow when I came out.
“Come on girl, let’s get back to the wagon,” I said and patted her softly before we both walked off.
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