The word “sumo” flared up in me, ready to charge at my distress!
I remembered that pain in my cheek. It felt the same way as when an opponent slapped me with an open hand, a move known as harite. In an instant, images flashed through my mind of women, far more obese than I had ever seen before. Wearing loincloths called mawashi, they slapped logs to practice the aforementioned move. At that moment, it became clear to me.
In my previous life, I had been in the women’s sumo club in a Japanese university.
I...I remember now!!!
“Serves you right,” Jaromíra murmured, so no one else could hear.
I felt anger rumbling inside me. That vixen would have me executed on her fabricated charges. It was completely wrong, unjust, and plain outrageous. And I swore by the path of sumo I held so dear that I wouldn’t let it happen!
I lowered my stance, spreading my legs wide. This was not a pose one should assume while wearing a dress, but I was past the point of caring about that. For I was a stalwart sumo wrestler!
“I’ll show you a real harite!”
SLAP! Jaromíra lurched backwards, astonishment written across her face.
“Aaaaah!”
“Jaromíra! How dare you, Floortje!!!”
With his fist raised, Prince Jonas came charging at me. Your center of mass is too high! You think you can force me out of the dohyō like that?! I executed morozashi—a deep underarm grip—and grabbed his belt at the same time, pushing him away as if railroading him out of the ring.
“N-No way!!! H-How can a woman be so strong?!”
As I was in that moment, I had neither the weight nor the muscle required for sumo. But that isn’t what sumo really takes. What it really takes is spirit!
“Aaagh!!!”
Prince Jonas broke through the terrace railing. The man I used to call my fiancé screamed as he fell into the dance hall below. I was victorious.
A burly man in a red ceremonial suit ascended the imperial staircase, his gait slow and steady.
“Heh heh... You’re a spicy one, Lady Floortje. I had no idea you did martial arts.”
“This is no mere martial art, Lord Clifton. Sumo is a ritual!”
“So it’s one of the divine martial arts. Fine by me. Let’s see how it fares against my Aryaka wrestling!”
“That’s the spirit! Face me with dignity!”
Lord Clifton, the son of a count, was a chivalrous man quite proud of his martial prowess.
In my previous life, I had always looked forward to playing The Rondo of Light and Darkness after intense sumo practice. It was a video game where you, as a female protagonist, could romance various male characters. Lord Clifton was one of these options. Jaromíra was the protagonist’s default name. And as for Prince Jonas, he was the main love interest.
It would appear I had died in my previous life and been reincarnated into the world of an otome game. But that was quite all right, for there was only one thing for me to do: keep pushing forwards on the path of sumo, fighting injustice and slaying evil. So demanded the spirit of sumo inside me!
With a loud clunk, Lord Clifton and I entered a struggle. It was clear his claims of prowess were not unfounded.
“Damn it—are your hands made of iron? And you call yourself a lady?”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Lord Clifton!”
The body I’d been reincarnated into had little weight and no training at all, but it appeared some unseen forces were at play. Because I was strong, and my dress was not easy to grab. As Lord Clifton tried to get a hold of my shoulders from above, I performed kannuki, a double-arm lock, and threw him off-balance.
“Gah!!!”
With a perfect uwatedashinage, a pulling overarm throw, my opponent was sent tumbling down the stairs. Pfft, too easy.
“Magic! Use magic on her, Douglas!”
“Heh. I’ve got this covered, babe. But when this dance party is over, you and me are gonna...”
“S-Sure, whatever—just bring down that monster!”
Jaromíra was screaming as she addressed Lord Douglas. He, too, had been a romanceable character in the aforementioned Rondo game, being a distinguished wizard and the son of a count. As he began his incantation, a magical vortex formed around him. He was preparing a powerful high-level spell.
My sumo sense stirred. It was telling me to stomp my leg. This was a ritual performed to expel demons and purify the ring, and it was worth a try.
I raised my leg high. This was not a pose one should assume while wearing a dress, but I was past the point of caring about that. For at that moment I was nothing if not a rikishi—a sumo wrestler.
STOMP! As the sound of my foot hitting the floor echoed through the terrace, Lord Douglas’s spell dissipated.
“Wh-What?! What did you do just now?!”
“It’s called shiko.”
The ritual appeared to have the power to dispel magic. It was sure to come in handy in a world brimming with just that.
I pushed Lord Douglas with my torso—a technique known as gaburi-yori. Then I grabbed the front of his belt in a maemitsu grip. Finally, I tripped him with an uchimusou—pushing his inner thigh with my hand to destabilize it.
Following the example of Lord Clifton, our wizard tumbled down the stairs, screaming.
“Enough! Enough, I said! I am First Prince, and nobody dares oppose my will!”
Bruised all over, Prince Jonas was a pitiful sight as he walked back upstairs with a great many heavily armed soldiers in tow.
“Heh. You want to see my sumo that badly, Your Highness?”
“Resistance is futile, my wretched, loathsome Floortje! You will look good with a noose around your neck!”
“A noose, is it...? Why, Your Highness, you make me sick to the core.”
I looked over the troops crowding the stairs.
“W-Watch out!!! Her profession is most uncanny!!!” shouted Jaromíra from behind me.
“Have you been possessed by the devil, Floortje?! What is your profession supposed to be?! Shaman?! Dark Knight?!”
“It’s nothing like that.”
I raised a leg high in the air. This was not a pose a lady should assume, but I was past the point of caring about that. For I was...
“Whatever I was before, I am now a robust sumo wrestler!!!”
STOMP! My shiko echoed through the dance hall, demoralizing the guards with its sacred sound.
“A...A ‘sumo wrestler’?! It certainly doesn’t sound like an honorable profession! B-But not to worry, men! She’s alone! And behind her is the Saint of Light! You must not fear, and if you do, you are a traitor possessed by a demon yourself! Proceed without fear, and see to it that she does not leave this place alive!”
“Yes, sir!” exclaimed the guards in reply.