The Way of the Sword

by Unknown

  ‘You forget, Saburo, I went through all that pain and training for nothing!’ yelled Yamato, jumping down and grabbing a handful of snow before shoving it in Saburo’s face.

  ‘Leave him alone, Yamato,’ chided Akiko, worried that Yamato’s anger at himself was turning nasty.

  ‘That’s easy for you to say. You and Jack are in the Circle. I’m not!’

  ‘Don’t forget… Yori,’ spluttered Saburo under the continuing barrage of blows and snow.

  ‘That’s a point. Where is Yori?’ asked Kiku quickly, trying to divert Yamato from the escalating fight.

  Yamato stopped his assault. ‘The ungrateful little genius is over there.’ He indicated the gnarled pine tree at the far end of the garden, its trunk propped up by the wooden crutch.

  Yori was squatting under one of its snow-shrouded branches, listlessly pulling at the tail of an origami crane, making its wings flap. Despite their best efforts to console him, Yori hadn’t uttered a single word since the shock announcement in the Butokuden the day before.

  ‘Don’t be such a sore loser,’ said Akiko to Yamato. ‘Yori hadn’t entered and didn’t want to.’

  ‘So why should he get to go? The sensei had said only five students would be entered in the Circle. There are plenty of other students who would give their sword arms for that extra place. And I’m one of them,’ said Yamato, releasing Saburo and dusting the snow from his kimono in angry swipes.

  ‘But he did pass a trial, Yamato. And I’m sorry, but you didn’t.’

  ‘I know,’ admitted Yamato, slumping back down on the veranda. ‘But Yori wasn’t even tested in the physical trials. How do they know he’s ready?’

  ‘Are any of us?’ said Jack.

  ‘Well, you aren’t. You were only just accepted,’ Yamato was quick to point out.

  ‘Yes. That’s why I have to take extra tuition from Sensei Kano,’ added Jack by way of an excuse.

  ‘You’ll need it.’

  ‘You’re right. I will. And I’ll need your help too, if you’re up for it.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ demanded Yamato, turning to face Jack.

  ‘Sensei Kano said I needed a training partner. I was hoping it would be you.’

  Yamato deliberated before answering and Jack thought he would refuse as a matter of pride.

  ‘Come on. It would be like our old sparring days in Toba,’ urged Jack.

  Recognizing the gesture for what it was, his friend managed to muster up a half-hearted smile. ‘Thanks, Jack. Of course I will. You know I’d never miss an opportunity to beat you up!’

  Later that evening, Jack heard Yori sobbing in his room. Deciding that his friend needed company, he knocked on his door.

  ‘Come in,’ sniffled Yori.

  Jack slid back the shoji and stepped inside. There was barely enough space for him to stand, let alone sit down, not just because the bedroom was so small, but due to the fact that Yori’s room was littered with origami cranes. Despite this, Yori was still making more, and there was a feverish anxiety to his labours.

  Jack cleared a space and sat down beside his friend. Yori barely acknowledged him, so Jack decided to help him in his task. After folding his fifth crane, though, he could no longer contain his curiosity.

  ‘Yori, why are you folding so many paper cranes? You’ve solved the koan.’

  ‘Senbazuru Orikata,’ replied Yori sullenly.

  ‘What’s that?’ Jack asked, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.

  ‘According to legend,’ Yori continued, tetchy at being distracted from his task, ‘anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted their wish by a crane.’

  ‘Really? So what’s your wish going to be?’

  ‘Can’t you guess…?’

  Jack thought he could, but, since Yori was in no mood to talk, he let the matter rest. As all conversation died, Jack stood to stretch his legs and stepped over to the little window. He stared out over the courtyard and gazed at the snowflakes floating through the night. If he had the patience to fold one thousand cranes, Jack knew what he would wish for. It would be the same wish he had asked of the Daruma Doll.

  His thoughts wandered to Jess. What would his little sister be doing now? He hoped she was getting up to have breakfast with Mrs Winters. He didn’t want to think of the alternative.

  Not wanting to worsen the mood in the room with his own melancholic thoughts, Jack returned to the task at hand. He picked up a sheet of paper to fold yet another crane.

  The pile of origami paper was soon used up, and Yori quietly thanked him for his help and said he would get more the next day. While he couldn’t quite muster a smile, he did seem less despondent about his situation and he had stopped crying, so Jack left and headed to bed. Sliding open the shoji to his own room, he stopped dead in his tracks.

  His bedroom had been ransacked.

  The futon was unrolled and ripped open; his ceremonial kimono, training gi and bokken lay discarded upon the floor; and the Daruma Doll and bonsai had been knocked off the window sill, the little tree now lying on its side, its roots exposed and earth spilt everywhere.

  Jack’s first thought was Kazuki. It was exactly the sort of thing he or one of his Scorpion Gang would do. He scanned the room to see if anything had been taken. To his relief, he found Masamoto’s swords under the ceremonial kimono and spotted his sister’s drawing crumpled but intact beneath the bonsai’s pot, his inro carrying case discarded to one side. He then looked under the futon and realized what was missing.

  Jack stormed up the now deserted corridor to Kazuki’s room and flung open his shoji.

  ‘Where is it?’ accused Jack.

  ‘Where’s what?’ replied an indignant Kazuki, who was in the process of polishing a gleaming samurai sword of black and gold that his father had presented to him upon the news of his acceptance into the Circle.

  ‘You know exactly what I mean. Now give it back!’

  Kazuki glared at Jack, his left eye still swollen and discoloured by the bruising he had sustained during the Gauntlet. ‘Get out of my room!’ he demanded. ‘What sort of samurai do you think I am to steal from you? That might be something a gaijin would do, but never a Japanese.’

  Then a malicious smile spread across his face as he saw Jack’s distress. ‘But if you do find out who did it, remind me to thank them.’

  Jack cursed. Despite Kazuki’s arrogance, he seemingly had nothing to do with the break-in. Perhaps it had been Hiroto, getting his own back for Jack beating him in the trials. Jack glanced down the empty corridor and froze.

  Creeping out of his room was a figure dressed head-to-toe in white. It held the leatherbound book in its grasp.

  ‘Stop!’ cried Jack.

  The dark pebble eyes of the ghostly figure locked with his. It fled down the corridor as silent as the falling snow and out of the Shishi-no-ma.

  Jack flew after it. He raced past startled students, who had emerged to see what the disturbance was, and out into the cold night air.

  He spotted the figure sprinting across the courtyard and followed.

  ‘Give it back!’ Jack shouted, gaining on the intruder.

  The figure reached the edge of the courtyard and launched itself at the school walls. Jack clambered up after the thief, his hands grabbing hold of the bottom of a white jacket. He wrenched back as hard as he could, but was kicked in the chest for his efforts and sent sprawling into the snow. Momentarily stunned, Jack could only watch as the intruder continued to scale the wall with cat-like grace.

  Then, without looking back, the white-clad figure disappeared into the snowy night.

  29

  THE DECOY

  ‘Do you really think it was Dragon Eye?’ asked Yamato as he helped Jack tidy his room. ‘It’s been a long time since he showed himself.’

  Jack was smoothing out his sister’s picture and wiping off the earth that had fallen on to it from the bonsai. Since Jack usually kept the drawing hidden in his inro, the intruder had clearly been carrying out a t
horough search of his room.

  ‘It had to be, but he sent someone else this time. Unless he’s managed to grow another eye!’ replied Jack sarcastically, remembering the two dark eyes that had peered at him through the slit of the ninja’s hood.

  ‘But who’s ever heard of a white ninja? It must have been a disguise. Are you sure it wasn’t one of Kazuki’s Scorpion Gang playing a trick on you? I mean, ninja always wear black.’

  ‘At night, yes,’ interrupted Akiko, who suddenly appeared at the doorway, dressed in a pink petal sleeping kimono. ‘But with the snow, they would stand out as if it was the middle of the day. Their shinobi shozoku is for camouflage and concealment, so they wear black at night, white in the winter and green in the forests.’

  ‘Where have you been all this time?’ demanded Jack, irritable she’d not been around to help.

  It was now very late and, apart from Yamato and Akiko, the other students had got bored and gone to bed. No one else but Jack had seen the white ninja. That was fine with Jack. He didn’t want people asking questions. He had even told Saburo that Hiroto had wrecked his room, so that he didn’t have to reveal the existence of the rutter to another of his friends.

  ‘I was having a bath,’ replied Akiko, looking round the overturned room in shock. ‘What happened here? Has anything been stolen?’

  ‘Dragon Eye returned,’ replied Jack, gathering up his swords, ‘and yes, something was taken.’

  ‘Not the rutter!’ she exclaimed.

  Jack shook his head.

  ‘No. Father Lucius’s Japanese dictionary. The one he gave me in Toba. The one that I was supposed to deliver to Father Bobadilla in Osaka when I got the chance. Looks like I’ll have to break that promise.’

  ‘Why would anyone want to take a dictionary?’ asked Yamato, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.

  ‘I don’t think they were looking for the dictionary, do you?’ Jack replied, picking up the Daruma Doll and putting it back on the window sill next to the bonsai. ‘At a glance, Father Lucius’s book could be mistaken for the rutter. I left the dictionary under my futon as a decoy. Whoever took it wouldn’t have known the difference unless they looked inside. I must have disturbed them in the middle of their search.’

  ‘What? The ninja was in here with you?’ asked an incredulous Yamato. ‘Why didn’t you see him?’

  ‘He must have been hanging over my head,’ explained Jack, shuddering. ‘See those damp patches on the wall above the door. That’s where snow’s melted. The ninja must have wedged himself between the cross-beam and the ceiling.’

  ‘It’s possible,’ agreed Akiko. ‘Ninja learn from an early age how to climb and perform acrobatics. Supposedly, they’re taught how to hang on to tree branches with just one finger.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ asked Yamato, amazed.

  ‘So where’s the rutter now if Dragon Eye hasn’t got it?’ Akiko continued, ignoring her cousin.

  Jack hesitated. He couldn’t afford to take any more risks with his father’s logbook and was reluctant to tell them. When he had visited Nijo Castle with Emi, he’d managed to excuse himself from her company under pretext of needing to relieve himself. He’d been on his own long enough to hide it behind the wall hanging of the white crane. The rutter was safe for the time being. It was the perfect hiding place, but only as long as no one else knew about it.

  ‘Jack, you can trust us,’ insisted Akiko. ‘Besides we can help protect it, if we know where it is. Dragon Eye will realize soon enough that he has stolen a decoy and will come seeking the real rutter.’

  Jack considered them both a moment longer. They were his friends. His closest friends. He had to trust them and Akiko was right. They might be able to help him. But he wouldn’t tell them everything – not yet.

  ‘You know I mentioned that I’d returned to Nijo Castle with Emi…?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Akiko rather coolly.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you at the time, but I’m sure there are things you don’t tell me too,’ added Jack tetchily, allowing the accusation to hang in the air for the briefest of moments. ‘Anyway, I went alone with Emi for a reason. I’ve hidden the rutter inside the castle.’

  ‘In the castle? But why there?’ Yamato asked.

  ‘Daimyo Takatomi has made the castle ninja-proof. Where better to hide the rutter from a ninja as devious as Dragon Eye?’

  ‘Jack, I can’t believe you’ve done this,’ Akiko snapped, glaring at him as if he’d just committed a terrible crime.

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Jack. ‘It’s the safest place for it. Why are you acting as if I’ve killed someone?’

  ‘You haven’t yet, but you have put the daimyo Takatomi’s life in danger!’ she said, shaking her head in disbelief at Jack’s stupidity. ‘Dragon Eye will now break into the castle to get it.’

  ‘How can that possibly happen? Even if Dragon Eye did try, he’d be caught out by the Nightingale Floor and captured by the guards before he got anywhere near the daimyo,’ argued Jack. ‘Besides, how can the daimyo be in danger when only the three of us know the rutter’s location? Dragon Eye would never think of looking there, and we’re certainly not going to tell him.’

  30

  STICKY HANDS

  ‘Shall I let you into a secret? I’m not really blind…’

  Jack knew it. The bō master had been faking all the time. That would explain why he could guide his students into the mountains, trick Kazuki and wield the bō so skilfully. He simply fooled people into believing he was blind.

  ‘I just can’t see,’ finished Sensei Kano in his deep sonorous voice.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ said Jack and Yamato in unison, the icy winter air making their breath puff out in large clouds of mist.

  They had returned to the gardens of the Eikan-Do Temple. The glorious reds and oranges of autumn were all gone now, replaced with bare skeletons of trees frosted in winter snow. The three of them sat on a stone bench next to a slender wooden footbridge. The wide stream passing beneath it was iced over, though further up the slope a small waterfall still trickled and ran beneath the surface to the frozen pond in the middle of the gardens.

  ‘People think that seeing is the perception of the world through the eyes. But is it?’ questioned Sensei Kano, waving the tip of his staff at the scene before them.

  He picked up some pebbles from the path and passed one to each of his two trainees.

  ‘When you see a stone, you are also feeling it with your mind’s hand. Seeing is as much touching as it is sight, but because the sense of vision is so overwhelming, you are unaware of the importance of touch.’

  ‘But without being able to see, how did you ever learn to fight in the first place?’ Yamato asked.

  ‘Disability doesn’t mean inability,’ the sensei replied, throwing his own pebble into the air and striking it with his staff. The pebble landed on the pond and skittered across the ice. ‘It just means adaptability. I’ve had to use my other senses. I’ve learnt to feel my way through life. I’ve become adept at sniffing out danger and tasting fear in the air. And I’ve taught myself to listen to the world around me.’

  Sensei Kano stood up and walked towards the stream.

  ‘Close your eyes and I will show you what I mean.’ He continued to talk to them while moving around, emphasizing each step with the thud of his bō striking the ground. ‘In these sessions, I’m going to train you in sensitivity techniques. You’re going to learn to use everything but your sight. Can you both point to where I am standing?’

  Jack and Yamato raised their hands to indicate his position.

  ‘Open your eyes. Were you correct in your assumption?’

  ‘Hai, Sensei,’ they replied in unison, pointing to their teacher on the bridge.

  ‘I would hope so. If you can hear me, then you know where I am. Close your eyes again. Aside from the sounds that your opponent may make, don’t forget the background noise that will also indicate where they are. The human body creates a sound shadow,
just like a light shadow cast by the sun. If you listen out for the hole in the background noise, you can determine the position of your attacker even if they remain silent. So listen to the sounds around you, then tell me where I’ve moved to.’

  Jack tried to follow the bō master’s movements with his ears, but, with Sensei Kano now maintaining silence, it was impossible to judge his progress. Instead Jack had to focus on the noises he could hear.

  Yamato’s breathing.

  The trickle of the waterfall.

  The distant bustle of the city.

  A lone bird calling among the treetops.

  Then… he swore he heard the waterfall fade ever so slightly.

  ‘You’re in front of the waterfall,’ deduced Jack.

  ‘Excellent. Very perceptive, Jack-kun,’ praised Sensei Kano as Yamato and Jack reopened their eyes. ‘We will begin with that exercise every day until you can recognize a sound shadow in most environments. Now let’s progress on to the touch techniques of chi sao.’

  ‘Chi sao?’ queried Yamato. ‘What does that mean? It’s not Japanese.’

  ‘No, it’s Chinese. Chi sao means “sticky hands”,’ explained Sensei Kano. ‘It’s a technique I learnt from a blind Chinese warrior in Beijing.’

  Jack nudged Yamato and whispered, ‘The blind leading the blind, eh?’

  They both laughed. Yamato, apparently over his disappointment at not being selected for the Circle of Three, had apologized for his behaviour the day before and their friendship was back on solid ground.

  ‘You could say that, Jack-kun,’ Sensei Kano continued, giving them both a sharp rap on the head with his staff for their impudence, ‘but chi sao is your gateway to understanding the internal aspects of martial arts – sensitivity, reflex, timing, coordination and positioning. It will teach you to undo your body’s natural instinct to resist force with force and you will learn to yield to an attack and redirect it. Most importantly, you will learn to see with your hands. Come here, Jack-kun, and stand opposite me in fighting stance.’