Patiently I sat and waited while Momofoku gathered his thoughts and began his story, thinking back to days past.
“I was the quiet one in school, the boy from a poor family that never stood out and kept to himself. I wasn’t the smartest or the most popular but I did my work and studied hard. But the other children would not leave me alone, teasing me constantly about my weight and my family who weren’t as well off as theirs. Hey fat boy, they would chant at me, often grabbing my bag and throwing it on the ground but I stayed calm and never said anything back. You’d think they would grow bored and leave me alone after a while but it never stopped and carried on for years afterwards. Then came that fateful day, in my last year of school. It was a spring morning and I was heading to class as usual when four boys emerged around the corner.
“Hey you fat pig, where do you think you’re going?” Said the first boy, a tall, gangly youth with bad acne scars on his face. I said nothing and tried to push past them. They grabbed and shoved me to the ground. Yet still I kept my resolve and remained calm.
“You need to learn some manners and respect your betters.” He replied while the others laughed their heads off. The boy looked down and picked up my bag from the floor, taking out my precious English textbook. I could still remember the sneer on his face as he started ripping out page after page of the book, throwing them to the floor like falling snowflakes.
“Then what happened?” I asked, looking him intently in the eyes.
“I hit him.” Momo said, almost ashamed of the words. “It was like someone had thrown petrol on the fire burning inside me and I hit him. It came from nowhere as my fist connected with his jaw, instantly fracturing it in a thousand places. The others tried to pull me off but I kept on hitting him, over and again till my hands were covered in blood. He didn’t move as the teachers and the other learns came running to see what happened. Of course I got suspended after that but the school allowed me to finish my studies in private. I passed well and the plan was to go study at a university but I could never forget that rush of adrenaline coursing through my body, that feel of power and control I had in me. So I ran away from my studies and went looking for a Sumo training school. Many Oyakata would not accept me, seeing as I was slightly smaller than the other boys and I didn’t have any references. Finally, an Okamisan (Stable boss’s wife) took pity on me and convinced her husband to allow me in. I started as tsuko-bito or the lowest ranked wrestler in the stable but I took to the life of a Sumo like wild fire. None of the others were as fanatical about their training as I was and I fought my way up the amateur ranks. I was untouchable at the Basho’s (tournaments) and my progress was meteoric, becoming the youngest Sekitori in the history of the sport. But my status did not bring me humility as laid down in the core tenants of Bushido and my arrogance grew by the day. I would often humiliate the lower ranks and treat them like garbage and this brought me into disrepute with the Sumo council and the elite of the sport. But I did not care, the prestige of the winning the tournaments was all that mattered to me. I had become addicted to the growing crowds chanting my name, of the money and the women.”
“And then something went wrong.” I said in thought more than anything else.
“For many a year no, my reputation kept growing and I had one of the best win records in the world. Soon I had reached the rank of Ozeki and the whispers were already there that soon I would be considered for rank of Yokozuna, which is a great honor. Only one man in a thousand can ascend to the top of the sport and it was not given without great thought on the council’s part. I was now in my forties and exalted in the ranks of the Rikishi when I met her. Yuki was a librarian from one of the local schools and she changed my life. Though she loved watching the tournaments, she was not overawed by my rank and could care less about my status. She saw the eye of the Kamikaze in me and brought peace to my soul. No longer did I care about the drunken parties and cheap women falling into my lap, nor the money and prestige of winning; it was only her in the end. And so, two years later we got married and it wasn’t long before we had a baby boy. Yuki and Sato became my life and they inspired me to fight harder but with more inner calmness and peace. Oh I wish you could have seen my boy, he had such strong hands and he never cried, he was so at peace already at such a young age. I had changed my ways, helping and guiding the younger wrestlers in their journey through the ranks. Life could not have been better for me and then it all went wrong.” Momo turned his head away, ashamed of tears forming in his eyes as I held his hand. He gathered himself and went on.
