by Unknown
Jack groaned. Of all the people he didn’t want to see the first day back at the Niten Ichi Ryū, it was Kazuki.
His sworn enemy strode over, arrogant as ever. His head recently shaved, and wearing his jet-black kimono with its red sun kamon emblazoned on the back, he looked every bit the son of a man supposedly related to the Imperial Line. His dark hooded eyes glared at Jack as if offended by his very presence.
Kazuki was flanked by the core members of his so-called Scorpion Gang: Nobu, who by his huge girth appeared to harbour hopes of becoming a sumo wrestler; Goro, a tough-looking boy with deep-set eyes; and Hiroto, thin and wiry as a stick insect, with a cruel, high-pitched voice. The only one missing was Moriko, the black-toothed samurai girl, who studied at their rival school, the Yagyu Ryū. The gang, formed in preparation for daimyo Kamakura’s supposed crusade, were firmly against the idea of gaijin settling in Japan. Since Jack was the only foreigner in the Niten Ichi Ryū, he was their primary target for harassment.
‘We were trying to decide whether you’d been roasted, boiled or burnt alive!’ said Kazuki.
Jack stared impassively back. He was determined not to give Kazuki or his gang the reaction they wanted.
‘Go away, Kazuki,’ said Jack. ‘That’s old news.’
‘Is it?’ Kazuki taunted. ‘The last I heard, daimyo Kamakura was offering rewards to those who brought Christians to justice. You do realize, Yamato, that these gaijin are spreading an evil religion. They’re trying to convert samurai to their alien beliefs in order to overthrow all the daimyo and rule Japan for themselves.’
‘If that was the case, why would daimyo Takatomi convert to Christianity?’ challenged Yamato, stepping between Jack and the approaching gang. ‘He serves the Emperor and is no fool.’
‘He doesn’t realize the true extent of their plans,’ replied Kazuki, lowering his voice, ‘Unlike daimyo Kamakura who’s passing a law that will banish all Christians from Japan. And good riddance to them!’
‘That may be daimyo Kamakura’s will in Edo Province, but it’s not here in Kyoto,’ retorted Yamato. ‘Now back off!’
Kazuki took a step closer.
‘I’ve no quarrel with you, Yamato. My issue is with the gaijin only. There’s no need for you to be involved.’
Yamato stood his ground, eyeballing Kazuki.
‘You pick a fight with Jack, you pick a fight with me too.’
10
THE MATCH
Kazuki and his gang closed ranks against Jack, Yamato and Saburo.
The Hall of the Hawk was busy with students and the confrontation passed unnoticed amid the crowd.
‘Why do you always insist on protecting the gaijin?’ demanded Kazuki.
‘Because he’s family,’ replied Yamato.
Kazuki stared at him dumbfounded. Even Jack was taken aback by his friend’s statement. Yamato had never before declared their relationship in such a binding and familiar manner.
‘I remember a time when you hated him,’ Kazuki spat. ‘You despised your father’s decision to adopt a gaijin. He’s taking your brother’s place! Can’t you see he’s even replaced you in your father’s affections?’
‘What do you mean?’ retorted Yamato.
‘Unless I’m mistaken, it’s Jack, and not you, who’s being taught the Two Heavens. He’s not even samurai! How can you stand by and let a gaijin be taught your father’s secret sword technique?’
Yamato’s face went taut as he fought with his emotions. Jack knew Kazuki had hit a raw nerve. Yamato was always struggling to gain his father’s respect. His failure to enter the Circle of Three and warrant learning the Two Heavens was still a sore point for him.
‘Doesn’t it bother you that you’re not considered good enough for the Two Heavens? And he is!’
Jack immediately rose to his friend’s defence. ‘Yamato doesn’t need the Two Heavens when he could defeat any of you with his bō.’
‘I doubt that,’ said Kazuki, raising his eyebrows sceptically.
Saburo now stepped into the fray.
‘Think again. Yamato’s so skilful with the staff,’ declared Saburo, patting his friend firmly on the shoulder, ‘he could take on all of your stupid Scorpion Gang at once.’
Kazuki gave an incredulous laugh. ‘Is that right?’
‘You could blindfold him and he’d still win!’ added Jack emphatically.
Yamato stared aghast as Jack and Saburo made their boasts.
A sly grin spread across Kazuki’s face. ‘Perhaps we should put your claims to the test. Are you up for some sparring, Yamato?’
‘What are you suggesting?’ replied Yamato cagily.
‘A knockdown match. Exactly as the gaijin said: you, blindfolded, with your staff against me and my gang, weapons of our choice.’
‘Doesn’t sound fair,’ stated Yamato.
‘You’ve only got the gaijin to blame. It was his idea.’
‘No, I mean you won’t stand a chance.’
Kazuki nodded appreciatively. ‘Now that’s fighting talk. I propose a match tomorrow evening at the Enryakuji Temple on Mount Hiei.’
‘I’ll be there,’ agreed Yamato, his face impassive.
Saburo, caught up in the heat of the moment, squared up to Nobu. ‘Bring a priest. You’ll need one.’
Nobu growled back but Kazuki, laughing, indicated for them to leave, and the stand-off between the two groups of boys came to an end. Yamato turned to Jack and Saburo. He grabbed them both by the lapels of their kimono.
‘What have you two got me into?’ he exclaimed, shaking them angrily.
‘You agreed to the match!’ spluttered Saburo.
‘Yes. It would have been dishonourable to back down after all your bragging.’
‘Kazuki had no right to say those things about you,’ replied Jack in his defence.
‘That may be the case, but I can fight my own corner.’
‘It’s going to be a great fight too,’ enthused Saburo. ‘Five against one. You’ll be a legend in the school.’
‘I’ll be dead more like,’ shot back Yamato. ‘Blindfolded! What were you thinking, Jack?’
‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away. But you won’t lose,’ Jack replied, with as much gusto as he could muster. ‘With all our chi sao training and your extra bō lessons, you’re by far the best in Sensei Kano’s class.’
Yamato shook his head in despair. ‘I’m no Sensei Kano. Against five opponents, I’ll be annihilated in this match!’
‘What match?’ demanded a gruff voice.
Sensei Hosokawa, the school’s kenjutsu teacher, a fierce man with a sharp stub of a beard, stood behind them, his arms crossed and his two swords tucked into his obi.
Yamato let go of Jack and Saburo and bowed an apology. ‘Just a training match, Sensei.’
‘To test Yamato’s bō skills,’ added Saburo, putting on his most innocent smile.
‘Sounds intriguing,’ said their teacher, eyeing the three of them suspiciously. ‘But you should be getting ready for Sensei Nakamura’s first class this afternoon. Don’t be late!’
Sensei Hosokawa strode off and began to usher the students out of the Taka-no-ma.
‘Sorry for getting you into this,’ said Jack as they put on their sandals outside. ‘I’ll go and tell Kazuki the match is off.’
‘NO,’ replied Yamato, grabbing Jack’s arm. ‘Kazuki was looking for a fight. If we pull out now, I’ll lose face.’
‘So you’re going to do it?’ Saburo asked eagerly.
Yamato nodded. ‘It’s time someone taught Kazuki a lesson.’
11
HAIKU
Having returned to his tiny paper-walled bedroom in the Hall of Lions, Jack got changed out of his ceremonial kimono into his training gi. He neatly folded the kimono and laid it upon the tatami-matted floor beside his swords, bokken and the little inro carrying case containing Akiko’s black pearl. The ninja tantō was wrapped in a cloth nearby and he slipped it beneath the kimono. It felt safer there, out of sight and ou
t of mind.
As an afterthought, he placed the Daruma Doll on top. The single eye Jack had painted on its mischievous face two years previous stared back at him with indifference. Jack was supposed to fill in the other eye once the wish he’d made on the doll came true. But the Daruma Doll had yet to deliver on its promise. Until then, Jack thought, it would make a good talisman against the evil spirit of the Kunitome blade. Not that he believed a word the tea-house owner had said.
Hearing the other students leave their rooms, Jack got up and quickly watered his bonsai, which sat upon the window sill of the room’s small lattice window. The little tree looked a great deal healthier since being cared for by Uekiya. Then he hurried from his room to find his friends waiting in the courtyard. Together they headed over to the Taka-no-ma for their first lesson with Sensei Nakamura. No one yet knew what martial art she would be teaching but, like many of his classmates, Jack had decided to bring his bokken just in case.
Inside the Hall of the Hawk, they were greeted by five regimented rows of tiny wooden tables laid out across the dojo floor. Upon each table was a bamboo writing brush, an ink block and several sheets of plain paper.
‘Leave your weapons at the door,’ instructed Sensei Nakamura. Her command was softly spoken, though her voice carried clearly throughout the Hall.
She sat motionless beneath the shrine in her black kimono, her hair a billowing snowdrift down her back.
The thirty students did as they were told and Sensei Nakamura waited patiently while everyone settled at their tables. Jack found a place between Yamato and Saburo in the third row and sat down cross-legged upon the floor. Akiko, Kiku and Yori took their places in the line in front. On the first row, Jack spotted Emi, Cho and Kai. They’d positioned themselves next to the new boy, Takuan, while Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang ensured they had the back row all to themselves.
The lesson was still a mystery to everyone, so there was a great air of expectation in the room. Jack looked around and couldn’t see anything in the dojo that resembled a naginata. Without weapons, he wondered whether they might be training in taijutsu, but Sensei Kyuzo already taught them hand-to-hand combat. The pieces of paper upon the tables hinted that they might be doing origami, but Zen Buddhism, meditation and the spiritual arts were Sensei Yamada’s responsibility. With the ink and brush present, Jack feared they would be doing a written test. In spite of Akiko’s private lessons in kanji, Jack knew he wouldn’t be capable of writing at any length.
Before the sensei even spoke, the class became still as if some soundless command had been issued.
‘My name is Sensei Nakamura,’ she said quietly, ‘and I will be teaching you haiku.’
The announcement provoked a mixed reaction from the class. Many of the students were disappointed, while a few looked absolutely delighted with the news.
‘What’s haiku?’ whispered Jack, seeing that Yori had already picked up his brush in eager anticipation.
‘Poetry,’ groaned Saburo in response.
Sensei Nakamura’s eyes turned upon Saburo and he fell silent under her stern gaze.
‘For those unfamiliar with the form,’ continued Sensei Nakamura, addressing the class, ‘let me explain its main principles. Haiku is a short poem, usually consisting of seventeen sound syllables, in which it should be possible to deduce the season. However, these basic rules may be disregarded, for it is the spirit of haiku that counts above all.’
Sensei Nakamura picked up a piece of paper by her side and read slowly from it.
‘Flying of cranes
as high as the clouds –
first sunrise.’
Several of the students began a respectful round of applause at the verse and everyone else soon joined in. Sensei Nakamura gave a slight incline of the head to show her appreciation.
‘Haiku is a keen observation of the world around you,’ she lectured. ‘A great haiku verse should pin the moment; express the timelessness of it.’
She extracted another sheet from her pile and in a voice that seemed to whisper into each individual’s ear, she read:
‘Look! A butterfly
has settled on the shoulder
of the great Buddha.’
This time every student applauded.
Yori leant over in excitement to Kiku and enthused, ‘Did you hear how Sensei compared the fleeting nature of a butterfly with the eternal Buddha? Suggesting there’s no difference between a living being and the embodiment of life in a stone statue.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Kiku breathlessly. ‘Magical!’
Saburo rolled his eyes at Jack. ‘So, it’s “Yori the Poet” now, is it?’ he teased good-humouredly.
Jack laughed. They all knew Yori was the eager scholar, being the only one among them who could solve Sensei Yamada’s koan challenges. The riddles the Zen master set each week seemed impossible, yet somehow Yori always came up with an answer.
A sharp clap of Sensei Nakamura’s hands ceased the chatter.
‘As I’ve demonstrated, haiku is to look closely at the world around us and our place within that world. Now I want you all to attempt your own haiku. Think about a moment in your life and capture it in a poem. Don’t worry about form. Focus on the spirit. Try to leave yourself out of it. No thoughts. No opinions. Just let it be.’
Everybody studiously bent their heads to the desks and began preparing their ink blocks to write.
Jack did the same, but had no idea what he was supposed to write about. He stared out of the window at the afternoon sun warming the green tiles of the Buddha Hall opposite.
His concentration began to drift.
Kazuki’s threats earlier that day played on his mind. The news daimyo Kamakura was offering rewards to hunt down Christians was worrying. While he was relatively safe under Masamoto’s protection inside the Niten Ichi Ryū, he was now fearful that anyone might try to attack him, not just samurai loyal to daimyo Kamakura.
The situation in Japan appeared to be getting worse, but what else could he do other than let matters run their course? When he’d first been suspended from school, Jack had considered heading to Nagasaki to try and find a ship bound for England. There had seemed little point in staying if he couldn’t continue his samurai training and learn the Two Heavens. Yet he knew it was foolish of him to think he could make it all the way to Nagasaki on his own, half-trained. With no food, money or weapons, he wasn’t likely to survive much beyond the outskirts of Kyoto. Besides, every time he thought about leaving something held him back. After two years in Japan, he realized he’d become attached to the place. More importantly, he owed his life to Masamoto and felt duty bound to stay.
Thankfully, having been given a reprieve, his guardian would now be teaching him his legendary double sword technique. Gazing out of the window, Jack wondered how hard it would be to learn to fight with two swords. He envisaged that once he’d mastered it, he would be invincible like Masamoto himself. He would no longer have to fear for his life. Jack began to imagine fighting Dragon Eye and defeating him once and for all.
He noticed Yamato was also staring into space. No doubt he was preoccupied with the forthcoming match against Kazuki and his gang. Jack had tried to dissuade his friend, but the jibe that he didn’t merit Two Heavens training had riled him. Yamato stubbornly refused to back down. He seemed determined to prove himself against all the odds.
Jack wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there daydreaming, but suddenly he became aware that Sensei Nakamura was looking at him.
‘Do you require some help?’ she enquired.
‘Sorry, Sensei,’ mumbled Jack, ‘but I’m not sure what I should be writing about.’
She nodded once thoughtfully.
‘When a friend asks you, “What is it?”, “What’s the matter?” or even “What made you smile?”, haiku is the answer to that “what?”,’ she explained. ‘You cannot share your feelings with others unless you show the cause of those feelings. Haiku is about sharing the moment. Now try again.’
J
ack took up his brush and pretended to write. Though he understood the principle of haiku a little better, his mind remained blank. Everyone else appeared to be progressing well with the task, even Saburo. He glanced over at his industrious friend, only to discover he was doodling pictures of samurai and ninja.
‘This lesson’s for girls,’ complained Saburo.
Akiko turned round and glared at him.
‘No, it’s not,’ she said, indignant at Saburo’s prejudice. ‘Most of the famous poets happen to be men. Not that their work is any better than a woman’s, as proven by Sensei Nakamura’s haiku.’
‘What’s the point in a samurai learning haiku?’ Saburo persisted. ‘We’re supposed to be training to be warriors, not poets. You can’t exactly fight an enemy with words.’
‘Those that talk most hear least,’ Sensei Nakamura observed from her position beneath the shrine. Again her command wasn’t loud, but it was as forceful as if she’d shouted at them.
‘Still seems pointless to me,’ he muttered under his breath as he bowed and dipped his brush back in the ink block.
‘He who works only with his hands is a mere labourer,’ proclaimed Sensei Nakamura.
Jack almost jumped out of his skin. The teacher had drifted across the hall as silently as a ghost and was suddenly beside them.
‘He who works with hands and head is a craftsman,’ she continued, inspecting Saburo’s sketches with weary disappointment. ‘But he who works with his hands, head and heart is an artist. The same can be said of the swordsman. You may be able to use your hands, Saburo-kun, but you’ve yet to prove you can use your head or your heart.’
Shamed into silence, Saburo bent his head and began to write.
Jack returned to staring out of the window. He was still uninspired and any ideas he did have seemed weak or stupid to him. He watched the sun slowly make its way across the temple’s roof, time seeming to stretch on and on.