The Way of the Sword

by Unknown

  ‘What? You want another?’ asked the boy, drawing back his leg for another kick.

  ‘Goro, I think he’s admiring your tattoo,’ said Hiroto in the same thin, reedy voice Jack now recognized as belonging to the fourth person at the irezumi ceremony.

  ‘Look great, don’t they? We’ve all got one, you know.’ Hiroto pulled back his own kimono, revealing a small black scorpion. Then he gave Jack a cruel kick in the ribs.

  He kicked him again for good measure and the Scorpion Gang laughed as each of the boys revealed their tattoos and lined up to kick Jack too.

  ‘Leave him!’ Kazuki ordered. ‘A sensei’s coming.’

  The boys scattered.

  As Jack lay there, shaking with a combination of pain, rage and shame, he heard the familiar click of a walking stick upon the stone courtyard and Sensei Yamada shuffled up.

  Leaning upon his bamboo stick, he looked down at Jack just as he had done almost a year previously when Kazuki had first threatened him.

  ‘You shouldn’t play on building sites. They can be dangerous.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning, Sensei,’ said Jack bitterly, trying to hide his humiliation.

  ‘Someone giving you trouble again?’

  Jack nodded and sat up, inspecting his bruised ribs. ‘Some of my class want me to give up and go home. The thing is I just wish I could go home…’

  ‘Anyone can give up, Jack-kun, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do,’ Sensei Yamada cautioned as he helped Jack back to his feet. ‘But to keep it together when everyone else would expect you to fall apart, now that’s true strength.’

  Jack glanced uncertainly at his teacher, but met only a look of complete belief in him.

  ‘I would ask you who it was,’ continued Sensei Yamada, ‘but it would be of little consequence. You must fight your own battles, if you’re to stand on your own feet. And I know you can.’

  Sensei Yamada accompanied Jack back to the Shishi-noma. Before departing for his own quarters, he offered Jack one final piece of counsel: ‘Remember, there is no failure except in no longer trying.’

  Once he had gone, Jack considered the sensei’s advice. Maybe the old monk was right. He had to keep trying. The alternative was giving up, but that would be exactly what Kazuki wanted him to do and he had no intention of letting his rival beat him like that.

  Gazing at the cold crescent moon that hung low in the sky, Jack vowed to renew his training efforts. He would get up early in the morning and practise his sword work. He would also ask Akiko for help with his archery. He had to do whatever it took to be among the top five in the trials.

  He had to learn the Two Heavens – if not to protect himself from Dragon Eye, then to defend himself from the Scorpion Gang.

  As he turned to enter the Hall of Lions and go to bed, Jack spotted Akiko, dressed all in black, rounding the far corner of the Butokuden. She was hurrying towards the side gate of the school.

  Stunned, Jack now knew he hadn’t been mistaken about the identity of that first intruder. He had seen Akiko that night.

  Jack ran across the courtyard in an effort to catch up with her, but she’d disappeared by the time he reached the gate.

  Luckily, the streets were deserted at this time of night and, glancing left, he spotted a lone figure turn down an alleyway at the far end of the road. This had to be her, but where was she going and why the secrecy of night?

  This time Jack wanted answers and hurried after her.

  21

  TEMPLE OF THE PEACEFUL DRAGON

  The alleyway swung left, then right, and Jack emerged into a small courtyard. But Akiko was nowhere to be seen.

  He heard footsteps receding down a passageway off to his right. He followed the sound until the passage opened out into a large tree-lined courtyard. Before him was a temple with an arched roof of compact green tiles overlapping like the scales of a snake. A set of stone steps led up to a pair of solid wooden doors.

  Jack cautiously approached the entrance. Above the door was a wooden sign upon which the name of the temple had been carved.

  He immediately recognized the last symbol as ‘temple’ and tried to remember the other kanji characters Akiko had taught him. He thought the first might be ‘dragon’, the second ‘peace’.

  The sign spelt Ryōanji.

  The Temple of the Peaceful Dragon.

  He tried the door, but it was locked.

  Jack sat down on the steps to consider what to do next. It was then that he noticed a tiny gap in the outer wall of the temple, on one side of the doorway.

  The wall was constructed of an alternating pattern of dark cedar panelling and white-washed stone. One of the wooden panels was not quite flush to the wall. Jack put an eye to the gap and was rewarded with a glimpse of an inner garden. A series of small stepping stones led across a mossy manicured lawn to a wooden veranda on the opposite side.

  Jack pushed his fingers into the gap and the panel slid smoothly aside. Through the concealed entrance, Jack slipped into the temple garden. Perhaps this was where Akiko had disappeared to.

  He crossed over to the veranda and followed it round to where it bordered a long rectangular Zen garden of raked grey pebbles, in which fifteen large black stones had been placed in a pattern of five irregular groups. Under the pale moonlight, the garden looked like a ridge of mountain tops thrusting through a sea of clouds.

  The garden was deserted.

  Through an archway on the far side, Jack spied a smaller plot of raked pebbles, decorated with one or two shrubs but little else. At the end of a stone pathway that bisected the garden was a simple wooden shrine. Its shoji doors were drawn shut, but the warm halo of a candle could be seen through the washi paper and Jack thought he heard voices coming from within.

  He stepped off the wooden walkway towards the shrine, the pebbles crunching underfoot.

  The voices stopped suddenly and the candle was extinguished.

  Jack jumped back on to the walkway, silently cursing his haste to cross the stone garden. He hurried round the edge, keeping close to the shadows. He hid in an alcove near the entrance to the shrine and waited.

  No one emerged.

  After what seemed an age, Jack decided to risk a peek inside. Ever so slowly, he approached the shoji and slid it back a touch. There was a waft of freshly burnt incense. A statue of a Buddha sat upon a small stone pedestal surrounded by offerings of fruit, rice and saké, but otherwise the shrine was empty.

  ‘Can I help you?’ asked an authoritative voice.

  Jack spun round, his heart in his mouth.

  A monk in black and grey robes stood over him. The middle-aged man was muscular and compact, with a shaved head and dark glinting eyes. Jack thought about running, but there was something in this man’s demeanour that suggested it wouldn’t be a good idea. The monk exuded a lethal stillness. The tips of his fingers were held together as if in prayer, but his hands looked as deadly as two tantō blades.

  ‘I… was looking for a friend,’ stammered Jack.

  ‘In the middle of the night?’

  ‘Yes… I was worried for her.’

  ‘Is she in trouble?’

  ‘No, but I didn’t know where she was going –’

  ‘So you were following her?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Jack, the guilt striking him like a slap across the face.

  ‘You should respect people’s privacy, boy. If your friend needed you, she would have asked for your company. She is clearly not here, so I think it’s time you left.’

  ‘Yes. I’m sorry. It was a mistake…’ said Jack, bowing low.

  ‘It is only a mistake if you do it twice,’ interrupted the monk, though his expression remained unforgiving. ‘Mistakes are lessons of wisdom. I trust you will learn from this one.’

  Without another word, the monk escorted Jack back to the main gate and indicated for him to leave.

  ‘I do not expect to see you here again.’

  He then closed the double doors and Jack was left al
one on the stone steps.

  Jack walked slowly back to school, contemplating his actions. The monk was right. What business did he have spying on Akiko? She had only ever shown him trust. When he’d asked her to keep his father’s rutter secret, she had. He, on the other hand, had not respected her privacy and was breaking her trust by following her around. Jack hated himself for it.

  Still, doubt plagued his mind. Akiko had denied going out at night, so what was she doing that was so secret she had to lie about it?

  When he returned to the Hall of Lions, he passed Akiko’s room and couldn’t help peeking inside. He realized then that he must have followed someone else to the Temple of the Peaceful Dragon.

  For there Akiko was, fast asleep in her bed.

  22

  MAPLE LEAF VIEWING

  ‘And I thought the cherry blossom in spring was beautiful,’ said Jack, looking around in awe at the maple trees as they wandered through the gardens of the Eikan-Do Temple.

  Akiko had taken Jack and the others to the temple to view momiji gari, an event similar to the spring hanami party, but held in autumn when the leaves of the maple trees turned into a magical kaleidoscope of colour. Jack was astounded by the display. The hillside was ablaze with red, gold, yellow and orange leaves as far as the eye could see.

  ‘Let’s go up to the Tahoto,’ proposed Akiko, pointing to the three-tiered pagoda that poked through the flaming canopy like a spear. ‘There’s a wonderful view from there.’

  With Akiko leading the way, Jack, Yamato, Saburo, Yori and Kiku climbed to the top tier, where they could look down on to the trees below. Each leaf was as beautiful and delicate as a golden snowflake.

  ‘Glorious, isn’t it?’ commented a deep barrelled voice from behind.

  They all turned to see Sensei Kano, their bōjutsu master. Despite being blind, it seemed he was admiring the view as well.

  ‘Yes… but surely you can’t see it. Can you?’ asked Jack, not wishing to offend.

  ‘No, Jack-kun, but life isn’t bound by what you can or can’t see,’ replied Sensei Kano. ‘I may not be able to see the trees, but I can still appreciate momiji gari. I can taste the colours, smell the maple’s life and feel the canopy’s decay. I can hear the individual leaves fall like a million fluttering butterflies. Close your eyes and you’ll hear what I mean.’

  They all did so. At first, Jack heard only an indistinct wash of sound, but it soon separated out into a rain-like pitter-patter of dry leaves. Then, just as he was starting to enjoy the experience, he heard giggling.

  ‘Stop it!’ cried Kiku.

  Jack opened his eyes to see Saburo tickling Kiku’s ear with a twig. She grabbed a handful of dead leaves and threw them in his face, but also got Yamato. In a matter of moments, they were all involved in a riotous battle of leaves.

  ‘I suppose time spent laughing is time spent with the gods,’ observed Sensei Kano ruefully, and walked off, leaving the young samurai convulsed with laughter as they played among the leaves.

  They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the expansive temple gardens. They crossed over wooden bridges and circled a large pond on which people rowed in little boats, playing koto harps and admiring the autumnal views.

  Jack spotted Kazuki and his friends in one of the boats on the far shore. They hadn’t seen him but seemed to be having too much fun splashing one another to care about Jack. Then Jack saw Emi walking across one of the bridges. At last this was his chance to speak with her alone.

  ‘I’ll catch up with you,’ said Jack to the rest of the group, who were heading towards a small shrine on the other side of the pond. ‘I just need to ask Emi something.’

  Yamato and Akiko both stopped. Akiko raised her eyebrows in curiosity but said nothing.

  ‘Come on, you three,’ Saburo called impatiently. ‘Once we’ve seen this last shrine, we can hire a boat and go paddling.’

  Yamato hesitated a moment longer. Jack knew his friend still felt guilty for not being there when Kazuki and his gang had jumped him at the Hall of the Hawk. He hadn’t left his side since.

  ‘Let’s go,’ said Akiko, walking off. ‘We’ll see him on the way back.’

  ‘We’ll be just over there if you need us,’ Yamato said, following Akiko with reluctance.

  Jack watched as the two of them headed off to join the others. In her honey-coloured kimono, Akiko appeared to float away like a leaf on a stream. Jack hurried over to Emi. She was standing on the bridge, admiring a maple tree that hung over the water like a tongue of flame. Emi bowed as he approached.

  ‘Enjoying momiji gari?’ she asked, smiling.

  ‘Yes. And you?’ replied Jack, returning the bow.

  ‘Very much. It’s my favourite time of year.’

  Jack glanced over at the nearby maple tree, trying to think of what to say next.

  ‘Is it ever like this in your country?’ Emi asked.

  ‘Sometimes,’ replied Jack, watching a leaf fall through the air and land on the surface of the pond. ‘But most of the time it rains…’

  An awkward silence fell between them as he summoned up the courage to speak. ‘May I ask you a favour?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Can I visit your father’s palace again?’

  She looked at him, her eyes registering surprise. ‘Any particular reason?’

  ‘Yes… When we were there for the tea ceremony, I noticed some screen paintings of tigers. I’d like to see them again.’

  Jack had thought carefully about this answer, but when he said it now the excuse sounded weak, and he cringed.

  ‘I didn’t know you were interested in art,’ she said, the corners of her mouth crinkling into a mischievous smile.

  Jack nodded.

  ‘I’m sure it can be arranged. I would have to speak with my father, of course, when he gets back.’

  ‘Of course,’ Jack agreed. Then he heard laughter and turned to see that Cho and Kai had caught up with Emi and were giggling behind their hands.

  ‘I have to go,’ Emi said, bowing before joining her friends and their elderly chaperone.

  Jack watched them leave, whispering to one another and glancing over their shoulders at him before bursting into fits of giggles again. Had they overheard him speaking with Emi? Or were they laughing simply because they had discovered him and Emi alone together? He needed to keep the visit to the castle private so the rutter would remain safe, and it wouldn’t help if those two started spreading rumours about them.

  The sun was now beginning to set; its golden rays glinted upon the water and shone through the leaves of the maple trees like a patchwork of paper lanterns. Jack absently opened up his inro, the wooden carrying case that had been a gift from daimyo Takatomo, and took out the picture Jess had drawn and given to their father some three years ago, when they had set sail from Limehouse Docks for the Japans. He now kept the picture with him as a constant reminder of his little sister.

  He opened the parchment, ragged and worn from repeated handling. In the dappled sunlight, he traced the outlines of his family. His little sister’s summer smock, his father’s black scribble of a ponytail, his own head drawn three times too big on a stick-thin body, and lastly the angel wings of his mother.

  One day he would return home, he promised himself.

  Jack closed his eyes. Listening to the breeze in the trees and the ripples on the water, he could almost imagine he was on a boat heading back to England. He was so entranced by the idea that he hardly noticed the group returning.

  They quietly surrounded him.

  ‘Enjoying your last days of momiji gari, are you?’

  Startled, Jack spun round to find himself confronted, not by Akiko or his friends, but by Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang.

  ‘Have you heard another foreign priest has died?’ revealed Kazuki, as if he was merely discussing the weather. ‘He was preaching to his followers to obey the Church over their daimyo. Loyal samurai punished him for his treachery by setting fire to his house, with him insi
de. It won’t be long before we get rid of all your kind.’

  ‘Gaijin Jack should go back!’ said Nobu, his belly bobbing up and down with laughter, clearly delighted with his taunt.

  Jack backed away, but was stopped by the handrail of the bridge.

  ‘All on your own?’ smirked Hiroto. ‘No bodyguards? I thought you would have learnt from last time – or do you need another kick in the ribs to remind you?’

  Jack said nothing, knowing Hiroto was looking for any excuse to strike him.

  ‘Cat got your tongue?’ asked Moriko, hissing in delight. ‘Or are you just too brainless to understand?’

  Jack tried to keep calm. He was outnumbered, but determined not to be intimidated this time.

  ‘No one likes gaijin,’ rasped Moriko, baring her black teeth at him. ‘They’re filthy, stupid and ugly.’

  Jack stared back at her. He was above this.

  Moriko, frustrated at his lack of reaction, spat at Jack’s feet.

  ‘What have we got here?’ Kazuki demanded, snatching Jess’s picture out of Jack’s hand before he could react.

  Jack flew at Kazuki. ‘Give it back!’

  Nobu and Hiroto caught hold of his arms and put him in a lock.

  ‘Look at this, gang. Hasn’t Jack been a clever boy? He’s learnt to draw,’ teased Kazuki, holding the piece of paper in the air for all of them to see.

  ‘Give it back NOW, Kazuki!’ Jack demanded, struggling to escape.

  ‘Why could you possibly want to keep this? It’s terrible. It’s like a little girl’s drawn it!’

  Jack shook with rage as Kazuki dangled the picture in front of his nose.

  ‘Say goodbye to your masterpiece, gaijin.’ Kazuki threw the picture into the air.

  Jack watched in anguish as the drawing fluttered away on the breeze.

  ‘Look! The gaijin is about to cry like a baby,’ squealed Moriko and the Scorpion Gang laughed.

  Jack hardly heard the taunts. His entire focus was on the fragile piece of paper flying away. He thrashed wildly in Nobu and Hiroto’s grip as his only bond with Jess disappeared into the sky. It lifted high above the pond before getting caught in the upper branches of a maple tree.