"Chichi!" Tarou complained as he heaved himself out of the travelling cart in front of the huge, expensive-looking teahouse. "I don't need a geisha to help me with my wrestling!"
His amazingly fat father glared back at him. Though his bulk was huge, Katsu Masaru moved with a grace his son had inheited that allowed him to be both top-heavy and nearly as light on his feet as a dancer. But at the moment, his son only had the later trait.
Tarou had always been a huge child; his father and mother had made certain of that. From the youngest of age he had been indulged with sweets and rich broths. He was the youngest of the family and the only boy and his older sisters had taken joy in stuffing him full of food (sometimes when he didn't want them to). Their parents still laughed over the time they had come from from a ceremony to find five-year-old Tarou groaning laying on a stack of cushions, his robes open around his upper body and his stomach impossibly swollen and taunt, unable to move under his own weight. His four sisters had forced not only his huge meal but theirs as well into him. Since then, Masaru had enlisted their help in bulking up his heir.
But that was no longer enough. All four girls were married and living away now and Tarou had shed so much weight when he had shot up to his present height of five foot three. At just over two hundred fifty pounds, he was fat for a normal boy but far too skinny to be a sumo.
"You obviously do. I gave you a chance to try it yourself but your metabolism just keeps burning it all off. Now we're going to try it my way."
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