R&R

The sun rose quietly over Tokyo, slipping through the half-drawn hotel curtains. Ashan stirred on the floor, the blanket tangled around his legs, his body aching in places he didn't know could hurt. Muscles he had never activated before now throbbed with the dull weight of effort. The air in the room was still heavy with last night's sweat and the pungent sting of some Tiger Balm he picked up after practicing with the sumo guys.

He sat up slowly, wincing as his back popped. Across the room, Jerry Tyson snored with complete abandon in the hotel bed, spread like a king over the covers. Ashan grumbled under his breath and rubbed his shoulders, replaying the scene from yesterday, massive sumo wrestlers thundering across the practice mats, the thunderclap of bare feet, the sting of sand and sweat.

Despite how out of place he had felt, part of him wanted to go back.

He quietly grabbed his phone, checking the time: 6:42 a.m.

Maybe if he went alone…

But as he crept toward the door in socks, a low, gravelly voice cracked through the stillness.

"Sit your ass back down."

Ashan froze. Jerry sat up slowly, eyes half-lidded, voice firm.

"You think you're ready to walk back in there today?"

Ashan hesitated, then turned. "...I wanna keep the momentum. I can't fall behind."

Jerry threw the blanket off and stood. His bare upper body, a map of scars, muscle, and age-hardened experience, looked even more imposing in the morning light.

"You wanna know what happens when idiots train without recovery?" he asked, walking past Ashan toward the room's mini fridge. He opened it, revealing half a dozen water bottles and several bentos stacked like ammunition. "They plateau. Then they get hurt. Then they get scared."

Ashan crossed his arms. "But I.."

Jerry raised a hand, silencing him. "You think sumo's about power? Wrong. It's about weight, balance, timing, coordination, and recovery. Today's recovery. That's final."

Ashan's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue further. He remembered how he managed to put on some muscle before tokyo, intense and short sessions + full recovery.

Jerry handed him a big chilled water bottle. "Drink."

"All of it?"

"That's one of eight," Jerry smirked. "You're gonna drink like a fish and eat like a bear. This is part of the grind too."

Ashan sighed, sitting down at the small hotel table. Jerry slid over a steaming tray of white rice, grilled mackerel, natto, pickled vegetables, and miso soup.

"Eat."

Ashan stared at it. "All of this?"

Jerry tossed his own meal on the table with a loud thud, easily twice the size. "This is round one."

Ashan looked down at his plate, already queasy. "I don't wanna get fat, man…"

Jerry pointed a chopstick at him. "I told you yesterday. You couldn't get fat if you tried. You burn too much, and you're too damn small. This is for recovery. And building size. Not everything's about abs."

Ashan grumbled but picked up his chopsticks. The first few bites were slow, but the salt and warmth calmed his sore body. A few minutes later, he found himself hungrily scooping rice into his mouth. Jerry nodded approvingly.

"That's more like it. You need this if you're gonna survive next week."

"Next week?" Ashan said through a mouthful.

Jerry leaned back, sipping his miso like it was whiskey. "We're going back to the sumo stable tomorrow."

Ashan blinked. "Wait, I thought I was just training alongside them."

"You're sparring. Not against the top guys, but you're gonna feel what real mass and skill feels like."

Ashan swallowed hard. Yesterday's aches suddenly returned with clarity.

Jerry laughed. "Don't worry, they'll take it easy on you. Togetsu said you got potential. But we gotta toughen you up."

Ashan looked down at his bowl, suddenly anxious. "I thought I was already tough."

Jerry didn't answer right away. He looked out the window, the Tokyo skyline soft and blue in the morning haze. Then he turned back, eyes serious.

"You got heart. I'll give you that. But heart don't win fights on its own. You're still a stick with guts. We got only a few weeks to make you into a blade."

Ashan nodded slowly.

As he kept eating, bite after bite, water bottle after water bottle, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was the calm before a storm.

Tomorrow, the ring would call again.

But today?

Today, the warrior healed.

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