The Way of the Warrior

by Chris Bradford

  Jack left the Buddha Hall in a daze, astounded and perplexed by the old monk who had flown through the air with the grace of a butterfly, then left on a riddle.

  Jack found Akiko and Saburo sitting on the steps. He slumped down next to them.

  ‘Are you all right?’ asked Akiko, clearly concerned that the lesson had taken a great toll on Jack.

  ‘Fine. But you won’t believe what I just saw…’ replied Jack and he told them about Sensei Yamada’s startling abilities.

  ‘In the name of Buddha, Jack! Even I can work that one out,’ said Saburo dumbfounded. ‘He is sohei!’

  ‘Sohei? But I thought all the warrior monks were killed by Nobunaga?’

  ‘Clearly, not all of them,’ said Saburo, gazing in awe at the Buddha Hall. ‘I bet you Sensei Yamada can strike a man dead just using his ki!’

  ‘Here comes Kiku,’ said Jack, seeing the little girl emerge from the Hall of Lions and run across the courtyard towards them.

  Kiku raced up the stone steps.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Akiko, worried by Kiku’s obvious urgency.

  ‘Yamato has run away!’

  35

  THE SWITCH

  ‘Jack-kun! Jack-kun! Jack-kun!’

  Jack blinked into the bright summer sunlight. It was going to be another scorching day, he thought, as he was drawn out of the cool shade of the Hall of Lions and into the baking courtyard by the cheers of the gathered students.

  The past three months had been a gruelling schedule of relentless training for Jack, Akiko and Saburo. Yamato, whose absence had been keenly felt by all of them at first, had been almost forgotten in the face of such an onslaught of instruction. Jack had lost count of the number of ‘cuts’ they had practised with the bokken to improve their kenjutsu, the quantity of arrows they had shot, lost or broken in kyujutsu, and there was not a single part of their bodies that hadn’t been bruised during taijutsu.

  On top of that, Jack had needed to fit in clandestine training sessions with Sensei Yamada in his attempt to learn Chō-geri with the hope of revealing the meaning to his vision. But the intricacies of the complex technique still eluded him. He had done everything Sensei Yamada instructed, but he simply was not good enough. At the rate he was going, it would take him years to master Chō-geri.

  ‘I won’t ever be able to do this,’ Jack had said in despair as he’d landed upon his back for the fifth time, barely a week before the Taryu-Jiai.

  ‘Whatever you believe, will be, Jack-kun,’ replied Sensei Yamada matter-of-factly. ‘It’s not the technique you need to master, it is yourself.’

  That was all he had proffered as encouragement. This had left Jack more frustrated than ever at the sensei’s garbled teachings. Could the old monk not see that the technique was beyond his abilities? Yet still Sensei Yamada demanded he practise Chō-geri every night until his body ached with the effort.

  Standing in the boiling courtyard surrounded by a throng of well-wishers, Jack just hoped all the pain and effort would be worthwhile. But it was too late to worry about such things now.

  The day of the Taryu-Jiai had arrived.

  ‘Jack-kun! Jack-kun! Jack-kun!’

  The chants filled his ears and he was funnelled across the courtyard and into the Nanzen-niwa, the Southern Zen garden. Akiko and Saburo were already there, waiting for him by one of the large standing stones. Masamoto and Kamakura sat upon a shaded dais at the north end of the garden. They were flanked on either side by the sensei of their schools, all wearing full ceremonial kimono. Students lined both sides of the garden in neat, disciplined rows, the Niten Ichi Ryū on the east side, and the Yagyu Ryū on the west.

  Jack’s heart pounded in his chest.

  ‘Samurai of the Niten Ichi Ryū. We salute you!’ shouted a bald-headed official in a stark white kimono.

  There was thunderous applause from the crowd and Jack, Akiko and Saburo instinctively drew closer together in a protective huddle.

  As the applause faded, Masamoto and Kamakura conversed politely, but their outward civility did little to hide the underlying animosity between the two samurai. Masamoto was especially grim. The absconding of his son had aged the samurai more than any battle scar could have. He bore the shame of his son’s desertion like a wound that would never heal.

  ‘Samurai of the Yagyu Ryū. We salute you!’ shouted the official.

  The students on the west side of the garden applauded and let out a battle cry of ‘Yagyu! Yagyu! Yagyu!’

  The monstrous form of Raiden strode into the garden and took his place by the standing stone opposite them. Jack had forgotten just how big the boy was. Raiden may have appeared the oversized ape at the hanami in spring, but today he looked a bull, brutal and terrible. The Taryu-Jiai wasn’t going to be a contest. It would be a slaughter.

  Behind him emerged the lean figure of a girl with raven-black hair. She moved in a quick, calculated manner, as if every step was part of a kata. Her eyes were sharp black diamonds and her thin-lipped mouth a red slash across her powdered white face. She was enticing in a deadly way, thought Jack, a viper poised to strike. Then the girl gave a crack of a smile, exposing her teeth.

  They were painted entirely black.

  Jack had barely got over the shock, when the final Yagyu warrior entered. The whole of the Niten Ichi Ryū school erupted in astonishment. It was not Toru.

  It was Yamato.

  Jack couldn’t believe that it was actually Yamato standing with the Yagyu School. He had not seen him since spring. There had been rumours amongst the students that he had joined the Yagyu Ryū, but for him to compete against his father’s own school was beyond comprehension.

  When Masamoto recognized who the final participant was, he sprang to his feet, his eyes bulging with outrage. He spun on Kamakura, but was stymied by anger. Kamakura sat, unflinching, relishing the moment. The great Masamoto had been unhinged.

  ‘This was not what was agreed. Where is the other samurai?’ said Masamoto with scarcely controlled restraint.

  ‘Did I forget to tell you? I’m so sorry. He was unfortunately called away by his father and we had to replace him with one of my other students,’ replied Kamakura, deliberately lingering over his final words.

  ‘Your student? This is unacceptable.’

  ‘I’m afraid the rules of the Taryu-Jiai clearly state that the competition is between the two schools, not individual students. I am perfectly at liberty to switch my warriors any time prior to the contest. Isn’t that right, Takeda-san?’ said Kamakura to the official.

  ‘Hai, Kamakura-sama, that is correct,’ replied the official, deliberately avoiding Masamoto’s glare.

  ‘So, unless you wish to forfeit the Taryu-Jiai…’

  ‘No! We will continue.’ Masamoto sat down, fuming like a boiling pot.

  The official held up his hand for silence. The murmurings of the crowd ceased.

  ‘I am Takeda Masato,’ said the bald-headed man. ‘I am the independent adjudicator for this Taryu-Jiai appointed by the Imperial Court. I will referee all matches. My decision is final and irrefutable. The first round is kyujutsu. Samurai, prepare yourselves!’

  The crowd gave a round of applause as the archery targets were set out down the length of the garden.

  ‘What is Yamato doing on their side?’ demanded Jack as they huddled round their standing stone. ‘How can he fight against us?’

  ‘You heard Masamoto’s words just as we did,’ said Akiko. ‘Masamoto disowned him after the hanami. He ran away because he’d lost too much face. He couldn’t deal with the shame.’

  ‘But why join the Yagyu School?’

  ‘Surely that is obvious, Jack,’ said Akiko. ‘He wants his father to lose face too.’

  ‘Enough!’ interrupted Sensei Yosa, who had come over to break up their discussion. ‘You must concentrate on the competition at hand. Don’t allow yourselves to be distracted by such underhand tactics. Remember what I taught you – you need absolute focus for kyujutsu. Balance is your foundati
on stone. The spirit, bow and body are as one.’

  Sensei Yosa had drilled those three principles into them every day for the past three months. They had literally spent the first month just learning to stand and hold a bow correctly. Only then had she progressed on to teaching them how to shoot an arrow. Akiko was the first to manage the technique properly, but Saburo and Jack still had difficulty striking the target with any degree of consistency.

  In the final weeks, Sensei Yosa had made them shoot until their fingers had bled from the blisters. One time, she had even come up to Akiko and tickled her ear with the feathered flight of an arrow. Akiko had been so shocked that she had missed the target entirely and almost struck a bird nesting in the old pine tree. All Sensei Yosa had said was, ‘You cannot allow yourself to be so easily distracted. Absolute focus, remember?’ The next lesson she had shouted in Saburo’s ear, sending his arrow skyward. ‘Focus!’ Sensei Yosa repeated.

  ‘Let us begin. First round. Targets set at one hundred shaku,’ called the official.

  ‘One hundred shaku!’ exclaimed Saburo as he gathered his bow and arrows. ‘I can barely hit one at fifty!’

  ‘The school to score the most points from six arrows will be deemed the winner of this match,’ continued the official. ‘One point for striking the target. Two points for the centre. Yagyu to go first.’

  The girl with the black teeth stepped up to the mark. Silence descended upon the crowd. She nocked her first arrow and in a cool detached manner, she let it fly.

  It struck the centre of the target and the Yagyu School cheered. Without a moment’s pause, the girl shot her second arrow and it sank into the inner white ring, missing the centre by a finger’s width. She grimaced in frustration.

  ‘Three points. Yagyu.’

  Saburo went to position himself on the line. Even from where Jack was standing, he could see Saburo’s hands shaking. He could hardly even nock his arrow.

  Saburo’s first shot went so wide that it almost hit a student standing in the crowd. A ripple of laughter rolled through the Yagyu School. Saburo’s second shot was no better, landing short.

  ‘Zero. Niten Ichi Ryū.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Saburo,’ said Jack, as he saw the mortified look on his friend’s face. ‘I’m sure the ape boy won’t do much better.’

  Thankfully, Jack was right. Raiden couldn’t even grip the bow properly. Both shots sailed past without even worrying the target.

  ‘Zero. Yagyu.’

  Jack was up next. He double-checked his posture, calmed his breathing and meticulously moved through each motion. He let loose his first arrow and it just caught the target on its outer ring. There was a great cheer.

  Jack tried to keep his focus, waiting for the noise of the crowd to settle into respectful silence.

  He took aim and fired.

  It missed.

  There was a groan from the Niten Ichi Ryū side and the sounds of celebration coming from the other school. The official put his hands up requesting silence.

  ‘One point. Niten Ichi Ryū.’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Jack, returning to their standing stone.

  ‘No. It was good. We still have a chance,’ said Akiko, a slight tremble in her voice. She was the chance!

  Yamato stepped up to the mark. His basic technique was good, and his first arrow struck the target but was wide of the bull. The Yagyu School sensed victory and began to shout. However, Yamato was too bold with his second. He drew back with such force that the arrow shot past the target and embedded itself in the old pine tree at the far end of the garden, much to the relief of Jack, Saburo and Akiko.

  The match was not over.

  ‘One point. Yagyu.’

  Yamato blatantly ignored Jack and the others as he sat down, clearly displeased with his performance.

  Akiko now advanced to the firing line.

  ‘She’s got to hit two bullseyes to win!’ whispered Saburo in despair. ‘When has she ever done that?’

  ‘Today?’ said Jack hopefully, seeing Akiko draw a long slow breath to calm her nerves.

  Jack had witnessed Akiko hit the centre once before at this distance, but that had been the only time during their entire period of training. Could she now score twice in a row when it mattered most?

  As Akiko prepared for the shot, the noise of the crowd faded to a low murmur like the sound of a receding wave. In one fluid movement, she loosed her first arrow. It flew true and straight, striking the target dead centre. A cheer erupted from the Niten Ichi Ryū.

  ‘Come on, Akiko!’ shouted Jack, unable to restrain himself.

  The official called for silence and the applause rippled away.

  Akiko set herself up for her second and final shot of the match. If she got this, the Niten Ichi Ryū had the first round.

  The eyes of the entire crowd were upon her and her hands began to tremble uncontrollably under the pressure. Jack could see her battling to control her nerves. Gradually, she slowed her breathing and her hands steadied. Raising the bow above her head, she drew back to make her shot.

  ‘GAIJIN LOVER!’ came a cry from the Yagyu side.

  The shout shattered the silence. For the briefest of moments, Akiko appeared stunned, struggling to control the delicate balance between her mind and body as the insult rebounded within her head.

  Jack fumed, knowing Akiko had to maintain the flow of her draw otherwise she would miss.

  She loosed the arrow an instant too soon.

  The arrow spun awkwardly. Yet it still struck the target. But had it hit the centre?

  The whole crowd drew in its breath as one. The official ran over to examine the arrow’s placement, its tip embedded at the very edge of the centre.

  ‘Centre strike! Four points Niten Ichi Ryū,’ announced the official, satisfied with the arrow’s mark.

  Jack and Saburo both punched the air with their fists. Akiko had done it!

  Akiko bowed triumphantly as the official cried, ‘First round to Niten Ichi Ryū.’

  36

  THE DEMON AND

  THE BUTTERFLY

  It was not even midday, but the Butokuden was already stiflingly hot. The students of both schools lined the edges of the hall, fanning themselves like a cloud of butterflies, while countless others were peering in through the slatted windows.

  Masamoto came and found Jack, Akiko and Saburo getting ready for the next round. He congratulated Akiko on her outstanding kyujutsu performance and offered each of them words of encouragement for the forthcoming taijutsu match.

  ‘Remember the second virtue of bushido,’ he said with gusto as he left to take his place in the Butokuden. ‘Courage!’

  ‘Those are fine words,’ said Saburo to Jack when Masamoto had gone, ‘but it’s not courage we need, it’s a miracle!’

  Jack gave Saburo a despairing look and shrugged despondently as he got changed into a fresh set of clothes, firmly tying an obi round his blue fighting gi. When they were all ready, Jack, Akiko and Saburo entered the Butokuden and formed a line in front of the ceremonial dais.

  Masamoto and Kamakura sat within the curving alcove of the Hall, two emperors waiting for their gladiators to fight. Kamakura was less buoyant than before, while Masamato exuded an air of quiet confidence following his school’s first victory.

  ‘Round two, taijutsu!’ announced the Imperial Court official, then giving a glance in Raiden’s direction said, ‘This is not a death match. A win will be awarded either by points, submission or knockout only.’

  Raiden gave a dismissive shrug that clearly implied he had no intention of following the rules.

  ‘During each match, points will be awarded for execution of technique. Ippon is a full and winning point given for a demonstration of perfect technique. Waza-ari is half a point for a near-perfect technique – two waza-ari equals a winning ippon. Yoku and Koka are given for lesser techniques and will only count if, at the end of a stick of time, there is no outright winner. The school with the most matches earns this round.’


  Like the roar of a pack of lions the crowd cheered, their shouts reverberating around the Butokuden.

  ‘First match. Akiko versus Moriko. Line up!’

  Akiko’s face lost much of its colour at the mention of her name.

  ‘You’ll be fine,’ encouraged Jack. ‘Remember what Sensei Kyuzo always says: “Tomorrow’s victory is today’s practice.” Well, we’ve practised more than enough to win.’

  And it was true. The diminutive Sensei Kyuzo had been the most demanding of all the sensei. It was almost as if the man had resented having to teach them and so had punished them with extra tough training. They had rigorously gone over technique after technique. He had drilled the basics and nothing else.

  ‘What about other techniques like ren-geri, multiple kicks?’ Saburo had complained one day and then had to do fifty press-ups for insolence, while Sensei Kyuzo explained, ‘Kihon waza is all you need. Multiple kicks are too open for countering. A good solid block or punch is far more effective. I told you, the basics are for battle.’

  And it would be a battle. The Yagyu girl, Moriko, hissed and bared her black teeth as she faced Akiko for their bout.

  ‘Rei!’ said the official, and the girls bowed to Masamoto and Kamakura and then to one another. A stick of incense in a brass bowl was lit to mark time and the official cried, ‘Hajime!’

  At once, Moriko launched herself at Akiko, firing off a front kick, then a roundhouse kick and then a back kick. Akiko retreated defensively, attempting to counter the blitz of attacks. She managed to deflect the front kick, just dodged the roundhouse, but was caught on the hip by the back kick. She went spinning to the floor. Moriko jumped forward to finish her off with a fumikomi, stomping kick.

  ‘YAME!’ cried the official, halting Moriko’s vicious attack. ‘Waza-ari to Moriko!’

  The Yagyu School cheered its approval. Jack was livid. He hated watching Akiko in a fight. He wanted to rush out there and defend her, just as she had once done for him.

  ‘Rei!’ said the official, and the girls bowed. ‘Hajime!’

  Moriko blitzed Akiko again, but this time Akiko was ready. She side-stepped, trapped Moriko’s roundhouse with one arm and did a straight palm-heel strike to the chest, sweeping Moriko’s standing leg at the same time. A simple yet highly effective block and counter, but Moriko grabbed Akiko as she went down and made her perfect technique appear messy.