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Description
Masaru’s Story

As the Sun let its final rays flicker over the water and waver over the shifting sands
and flood the small island of Kozushima with its awe inspiring color,
young, timid and insecure Takahiro sits on the uneven sand contemplating his remote father

Wise and gracious trainer, Hiroshi strides towards Takahiro:
“Why look so forlorn noble son,
has not the honor of your father enough to fill you with cheer?
For your father has won many a championship
and gained the lustrous title of Yokozuna, grand sumo champion.
But still you sit here in bad humor, is this for the absence of your revered Otokooya?
Surely you do not think he has forgotten his only son and wife with all of his glory,
in due time he will return. Now rise from your place and begin your training,
do you not want your father proud of his son upon his return?”

The diminutive and wary son acknowledged:
“The proud blessing of my Otokooya is all I truly desire,
I shall train to vie for the rank of my father before me,
but I worry for my mother’s sake,
is she to be able to tolerate my father’s absence so plain and calmly?
For I fear she does not have the strength, and may dawdle, ignorantly.”

Old yet shrewd oyakata, Hiroshi insisted:
“Hai, go at once and begin your training
I must now go to your father; he is greater need of my guidance and skill
before his next match.”

The following morning Takahiro awoke early
just as the morning sun began to crawl through his window
meanwhile Hiroshi made his voyage toward the mainland,
to assist the strong and yet fallible father.



It was the most influential match of his career,
he’d already been declared a Yokozuna and could have retired easily
with his title intact. But he had taken the challenge set forth by Kenji,
a man he’d fought before.
He was protecting his honor and prestige of which Kenji had tried to tarnish.
Afraid that his growing age and weakening strength would be no match for Kenji
He was heartened with news of Hiroshi’s return
hoping guidance would secure his victory.

A famous icon in his time, Hiroshi had begun training new prodigies,
after retiring from the dohyō.
He had accepted Masaru as his pupil when he was younger
and would soon begin training his heir.

As he neared the ring, and faced his opponent he grew weary of the possible outcomes,
if he were to lose, he would lose all honor, and little hope to regain it.
He stepped inside of the dohyō, nearing the shikiri-sen the white line nearest to him,
starring ahead at his opponent, who glared back at him, he was determined to be the victor.

As the gyoji called the game into play,
Masaru glided forward towards Kenji,
lunging toward him, attempting to pull him down, using his massive weight

He was successful, and with an earth shattering thump,
Kenji fell to the floor, losing yet another match to Masaru.

The gallant victor, Masaru, made his valiant return to his apartment,
through the throngs of admirers.
The crowd was comprised of mainly women, coming fast towards him,
calling his name and tempting him with their charm, guile and appeal

Remembering his beloved wife and child,
he restrained himself and returned to his lavish and richly adorned apartment,
to meet his admirable and always trustworthy trainer for news of home.

Wise Oyakata commended:
“I applaud your victory,
though I fear with your prolonged absence,
your wife and only son are in jeopardy.
For they are in greater need of your presence,
than this competition demands.”

Awaiting Masaru’s glorious return,
the quiet island of Kozushima slept through the night.
But not all of the great island’s inhabitants were so peaceful,
the vulgar and boisterous reporters which had newly begun gathering there,
were wide awake planning another day,
staking out the great wrestler’s hall, with hope on over hearing news or hearsay.

Upon hearing this advice, Masaru headed for home.
Unknown to him, certain threats lurked ahead in his journey.

Aboard the luxurious yacht homeward,
adorned with the finest materials and art in all Japan,
the great champion wandered its many corridors,
only to find two women flirting with the captain, trying to prolong their visit.

They had apparently stowed away in one of the ships many holds,
in desperation to meet the great victor.

The two women barely the age of his son made their way towards Masaru:
“We are deeply sorry to have troubled you,
but we couldn’t have imagined not personally congratulating you for your victory.
Is there is anything we can do for you, great champion”

As they carefully chose these words Masaru looked at their beauty in awe and desire, remembering the lengthy span of his lifetime spent alone and tempted.

At this he again thought of his wife and now grown son,
intensifying his desire to return to his kin and dearly loved home.
It wasn’t within a minute of saying this, that Masaru made greater haste towards Kozushima.



Upon arrival to his beloved island, his welcome was not one he was expecting.
The port was empty except for a single meek sailor.

The inquisitive champion inquired:
“Why are there not many, tending to the every toil of the boats?
Has not my anticipated arrival conjured increased hands?
Or in my absence has the port and town I fear grown frail and idle?”

The withdrawn laborer acknowledged:
“I know not why, but upon my arrival today at these docks I was alone,
and have remained the same until now, for which I am graced with your presence.
The greater part of these fair islands inhabitants have made their way towards your fair estate,
as the many reporters have gathered there. There is talk of your wife, but of what I do not know.”

Grand Masaru responded:
“Thank you for your honesty and diligence, where others were unfaithful.
I will make my way now to my house, and see what has become of it and my neighbors.”



Curious Masaru made his way past the aide and through the port,
to his ancient impressive home, finding numerous throngs of people crowding outside.
To his disbelief not one of his neighbors noticed his arrival. All eyes were focused on the entrance of the noble house.

Astonishingly he was not noticed even with his huge bulk,
as he made his way towards the back entrance of the estate.
He entered the manor swiftly making himself light,
as he approached the front doorway to surprise the reporters,
whom were expecting his beautiful wife and not he.

As he slowly but surely opened the ancient maple and iron door,
he could already hear the flicker of flashbulbs, and the heightened excitement of the crowd.
But as he stepped out from the shadows of the great door, the crowd grew still.
Even the naturally unruly reporters lowered the cameras,
to gaze at the massive honorable Masaru.

The great victor addressed the crowd and reporters:
“Why do you stand here upon my dignified estate, without invitation and stand here and stare,
as its owner questions your reasoning?
Have you no shame in your actions that you stare here unapologetic, for your curt actions?
I have praised you my neighbors and friends, throughout my travels,
and this is your payment? Let me no more speak of your compassion.”

A fool hearty reporter retorted:
“Have we no rights to stand, as you do yourself?
You have been gone for so long now;
it was assumed you’d forgotten your humble island and village.
For your extended absence do we not share in your spoils?”

Masaru ever still calm responded:
“The right of which you assume you have is non-existent.
This is my family’s land, and has been for generations,
if your blood does not run within this land I suggest you leave it,
for if you do not, punishment will be upon you.”

The reporters and crowd fearing his anger swiftly left the manor and returned to their homes,
while one remained.

Proud father Masaru questions:
“Have you not heard my threat, or are you willing to heed my resentment?”

Astonished son Takahiro inquires:
“Do you not know who I am?
I know it as been many nights since we’ve last seen one another,
but surely you can not forget a face that is yours?”

Heartened Masaru replies:
“If you truly are my son, from what I see from your distinct features,
take me now to your mother, let me see how she has faired from my absence.”
Mother, son and noble father once again united,
begin their reuniting describing their adventures and life since last they met.
Again the final rays of Sun flickered over the island gleaming over the embracing group.

Description
Masaru’s Story

As the Sun let its final rays flicker over the water and waver over the shifting sands
and flood the small island of Kozushima with its awe inspiring color,
young, timid and insecure Takahiro sits on the uneven sand contemplating his remote father

Wise and gracious trainer, Hiroshi strides towards Takahiro:
“Why look so forlorn noble son,
has not the honor of your father enough to fill you with cheer?
For your father has won many a championship
and gained the lustrous title of Yokozuna, grand sumo champion.
But still you sit here in bad humor, is this for the absence of your revered Otokooya?
Surely you do not think he has forgotten his only son and wife with all of his glory,
in due time he will return. Now rise from your place and begin your training,
do you not want your father proud of his son upon his return?”

The diminutive and wary son acknowledged:
“The proud blessing of my Otokooya is all I truly desire,
I shall train to vie for the rank of my father before me,
but I worry for my mother’s sake,
is she to be able to tolerate my father’s absence so plain and calmly?
For I fear she does not have the strength, and may dawdle, ignorantly.”

Old yet shrewd oyakata, Hiroshi insisted:
“Hai, go at once and begin your training
I must now go to your father; he is greater need of my guidance and skill
before his next match.”

The following morning Takahiro awoke early
just as the morning sun began to crawl through his window
meanwhile Hiroshi made his voyage toward the mainland,
to assist the strong and yet fallible father.



It was the most influential match of his career,
he’d already been declared a Yokozuna and could have retired easily
with his title intact. But he had taken the challenge set forth by Kenji,
a man he’d fought before.
He was protecting his honor and prestige of which Kenji had tried to tarnish.
Afraid that his growing age and weakening strength would be no match for Kenji
He was heartened with news of Hiroshi’s return
hoping guidance would secure his victory.

A famous icon in his time, Hiroshi had begun training new prodigies,
after retiring from the dohyō.
He had accepted Masaru as his pupil when he was younger
and would soon begin training his heir.

As he neared the ring, and faced his opponent he grew weary of the possible outcomes,
if he were to lose, he would lose all honor, and little hope to regain it.
He stepped inside of the dohyō, nearing the shikiri-sen the white line nearest to him,
starring ahead at his opponent, who glared back at him, he was determined to be the victor.

As the gyoji called the game into play,
Masaru glided forward towards Kenji,
lunging toward him, attempting to pull him down, using his massive weight

He was successful, and with an earth shattering thump,
Kenji fell to the floor, losing yet another match to Masaru.

The gallant victor, Masaru, made his valiant return to his apartment,
through the throngs of admirers.
The crowd was comprised of mainly women, coming fast towards him,
calling his name and tempting him with their charm, guile and appeal

Remembering his beloved wife and child,
he restrained himself and returned to his lavish and richly adorned apartment,
to meet his admirable and always trustworthy trainer for news of home.

Wise Oyakata commended:
“I applaud your victory,
though I fear with your prolonged absence,
your wife and only son are in jeopardy.
For they are in greater need of your presence,
than this competition demands.”

Awaiting Masaru’s glorious return,
the quiet island of Kozushima slept through the night.
But not all of the great island’s inhabitants were so peaceful,
the vulgar and boisterous reporters which had newly begun gathering there,
were wide awake planning another day,
staking out the great wrestler’s hall, with hope on over hearing news or hearsay.

Upon hearing this advice, Masaru headed for home.
Unknown to him, certain threats lurked ahead in his journey.

Aboard the luxurious yacht homeward,
adorned with the finest materials and art in all Japan,
the great champion wandered its many corridors,
only to find two women flirting with the captain, trying to prolong their visit.

They had apparently stowed away in one of the ships many holds,
in desperation to meet the great victor.

The two women barely the age of his son made their way towards Masaru:
“We are deeply sorry to have troubled you,
but we couldn’t have imagined not personally congratulating you for your victory.
Is there is anything we can do for you, great champion”

As they carefully chose these words Masaru looked at their beauty in awe and desire, remembering the lengthy span of his lifetime spent alone and tempted.

At this he again thought of his wife and now grown son,
intensifying his desire to return to his kin and dearly loved home.
It wasn’t within a minute of saying this, that Masaru made greater haste towards Kozushima.



Upon arrival to his beloved island, his welcome was not one he was expecting.
The port was empty except for a single meek sailor.

The inquisitive champion inquired:
“Why are there not many, tending to the every toil of the boats?
Has not my anticipated arrival conjured increased hands?
Or in my absence has the port and town I fear grown frail and idle?”

The withdrawn laborer acknowledged:
“I know not why, but upon my arrival today at these docks I was alone,
and have remained the same until now, for which I am graced with your presence.
The greater part of these fair islands inhabitants have made their way towards your fair estate,
as the many reporters have gathered there. There is talk of your wife, but of what I do not know.”

Grand Masaru responded:
“Thank you for your honesty and diligence, where others were unfaithful.
I will make my way now to my house, and see what has become of it and my neighbors.”



Curious Masaru made his way past the aide and through the port,
to his ancient impressive home, finding numerous throngs of people crowding outside.
To his disbelief not one of his neighbors noticed his arrival. All eyes were focused on the entrance of the noble house.

Astonishingly he was not noticed even with his huge bulk,
as he made his way towards the back entrance of the estate.
He entered the manor swiftly making himself light,
as he approached the front doorway to surprise the reporters,
whom were expecting his beautiful wife and not he.

As he slowly but surely opened the ancient maple and iron door,
he could already hear the flicker of flashbulbs, and the heightened excitement of the crowd.
But as he stepped out from the shadows of the great door, the crowd grew still.
Even the naturally unruly reporters lowered the cameras,
to gaze at the massive honorable Masaru.

The great victor addressed the crowd and reporters:
“Why do you stand here upon my dignified estate, without invitation and stand here and stare,
as its owner questions your reasoning?
Have you no shame in your actions that you stare here unapologetic, for your curt actions?
I have praised you my neighbors and friends, throughout my travels,
and this is your payment? Let me no more speak of your compassion.”

A fool hearty reporter retorted:
“Have we no rights to stand, as you do yourself?
You have been gone for so long now;
it was assumed you’d forgotten your humble island and village.
For your extended absence do we not share in your spoils?”

Masaru ever still calm responded:
“The right of which you assume you have is non-existent.
This is my family’s land, and has been for generations,
if your blood does not run within this land I suggest you leave it,
for if you do not, punishment will be upon you.”

The reporters and crowd fearing his anger swiftly left the manor and returned to their homes,
while one remained.

Proud father Masaru questions:
“Have you not heard my threat, or are you willing to heed my resentment?”

Astonished son Takahiro inquires:
“Do you not know who I am?
I know it as been many nights since we’ve last seen one another,
but surely you can not forget a face that is yours?”

Heartened Masaru replies:
“If you truly are my son, from what I see from your distinct features,
take me now to your mother, let me see how she has faired from my absence.”
Mother, son and noble father once again united,
begin their reuniting describing their adventures and life since last they met.
Again the final rays of Sun flickered over the island gleaming over the embracing group.