by Unknown
‘Perhaps you need a more practical demonstration of the esoteric spiritual arts?’ said Sensei Yamada, sounding the bowl with a large wooden striker. It rang loud and clear, echoing endlessly throughout the Buddha Hall. ‘Maybe it’s time I taught you kiaijutsu.’
All of a sudden the students were abuzz. Jack looked around, wondering what was going on.
Saburo leaned over and excitedly whispered, ‘It’s the secret art of the sohei!’
The sohei, as Jack knew, were the legendary warrior monks of the Enryakuji Temple. It was rumoured that using ki, their spiritual energy, they could defeat their enemies without even drawing their swords. The sohei became the most powerful Buddhist sect in Japan, until forty years ago the samurai General Nobunaga gathered together a massive force and destroyed them. It had been thought that no warrior monks survived the attack. Jack, however, had discovered that Sensei Yamada himself had once been sohei. But only he, Akiko and Saburo had known this. Until now.
As the singing bowl’s ring faded to nothing, so too did the students’ chatter. Sensei Yamada seemed pleased to have their undivided attention.
‘What purpose has a kiai in a fight?’ he asked the class.
Several hands shot up, all eager to respond.
‘It’s a shout that scares your opponent,’ said Kazuki.
‘A battle cry to help focus and strengthen your attack,’ suggested Yamato.
‘The yell confuses your enemy,’ blurted Saburo.
Sensei Yamada pointed to Akiko, who was waiting patiently to give her answer.
‘It helps you to overcome your fear.’
Sensei Yamada nodded, waving the other students’ hands down.
‘Yes, it is all those. But what you’re describing is purely a shout – a kakegoe. A kiai is something deeper. It is the projection of the fighting spirit into the voice.’
The class all looked bemused.
‘How do you do it?’ asked Saburo eagerly. Jack smiled to himself. Never before had he seen his friend so animated during one of Sensei Yamada’s classes.
‘In essence, you channel your inner energy, ki, through a battle cry, and strike at your enemy’s own spiritual energy. When mastered, kiaijutsu can be a weapon as devastating as any katana.’
Though no one would dare question Sensei Yamada, there were many incredulous looks and a few snorts of disbelief.
‘You don’t believe me?’ he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
Walking to the other side of the hall, the old monk turned to face the singing bowl and took a deep breath as if preparing for meditation. Without warning, a shout exploded from him. It was so forceful and unexpected, several students screamed.
On the other side of the hall, the bowl rang out as if struck by a mallet.
The class was stunned into silence.
‘The sohei developed secret mantras for the most dangerous kiai,’ explained Sensei Yamada. ‘I will teach you these words of power, but they should never be used except in battle. With a kiai, you directly attack your opponent’s spirit and their will to fight. The shout literally shocks him into defeat.’
From personal experience, Jack knew Sensei Yamada was capable of unbelievable feats of martial arts. After all, it had been the Zen master who’d taught him the devastating butterfly kick. But to Jack’s Western thinking, this was something else. A skill beyond belief.
‘Sensei,’ said Jack, raising his hand, ‘a person is completely different from a bell. How can a kiai possibly defend against a sword attack?’
‘Perhaps you need a little convincing?’ said Sensei Yamada, smiling playfully. ‘Attack me with your bokken.’
Jack hesitantly got to his feet and approached the Zen master. He now regretted expressing doubt at his teacher’s powers. Looking into the monk’s eyes, he could see the sohei spirit in him.
‘But didn’t you say a kiai should only be used in battle?’
‘Yes, I did, but don’t worry. I’ve done this many times before. I won’t kill you.’
‘Shame!’ muttered Kazuki under his breath.
Jack ignored the comment, too nervous about what Sensei Yamada might do to him.
‘The first kiai you’ll be taught is “YAH!”,’ Sensei Yamada lectured as Jack withdrew his sword and prepared to attack. ‘This power word represents the sound and force of an arrow being released. With this kiai, you penetrate the opponent’s spirit just like an arrow.’
He beckoned Jack to begin. ‘Do not hold back.’
Jack charged at Sensei Yamada.
‘YAH!’
One moment Jack was striking with his bokken. The next he was flying backwards, all the power knocked out of his attack.
Jack landed on the temple floor, stunned. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut. His body felt tight and he found it hard to breathe. He flashed back to the time Dragon Eye had executed Dim Mak on him, blocking and destroying his ki. That Death Touch had almost killed him.
‘The feeling of constriction will pass,’ said Sensei Yamada, noting Jack’s distress. ‘I held back from using a full kiai.’
‘That was impressive,’ said Kazuki. ‘Can you do it again?’
‘No! The risk of internal injury is simply too great,’ explained Sensei Yamada. ‘A single demonstration is fine, but two attacks like that could kill.’
He helped Jack back to his feet.
‘Now I want everyone to attempt this kiai.’
A mixture of excitement and concern consumed the class.
‘Don’t worry,’ said Sensei Yamada, holding up his hand. ‘In these lessons, you’ll only practise on the singing bowl.’
Groans of disappointment emanated from Kazuki and his gang.
‘Remember, this is a skill to be used in battle, against your enemy. Now line up, so each of you can have a go.’
The students formed an orderly queue. The first in line was Saburo. Sensei Yamada positioned him a single pace from the bowl.
‘To perform this kiai, you must act like a bow and arrow. Inhale and draw your ki into the hara,’ he explained, indicating the area just below Saburo’s stomach. ‘This action is like an archer drawing back the bow. Then exhale, tightening the stomach and letting out a “YAH!”. This should have the feel of firing the arrow.’
Saburo screamed at the top of his lungs, his face turning bright red with the exertion. ‘YAAAAAAAAH!’
The bowl remained stubbornly silent.
‘Very good, Saburo-kun, full of intent,’ praised Sensei Yamada, ‘but you must ensure the sound isn’t forced out of the throat. The kiai should come from the hara and that way it will contain your ki.’
Saburo nodded keenly and hurried to the back of the line for another attempt.
‘As everyone’s skill grows, you’ll be able to make the bowl sing. With practice, you’ll move further away from the target until you can defeat your enemy at any distance.’
The rest of the afternoon was filled with a cacophony of shouts, yells and battle cries. When it came to Jack’s turn, he bellowed as loud as he could. But just as it had with everyone else’s attempts, the singing bowl remained unmoved.
Next, Yori meekly stepped up to the mark.
Jack watched as his friend took a breath and… squeaked.
The whole class erupted with laughter at the pathetic sound he’d produced. Even Sensei Yamada couldn’t help but smile.
Yori didn’t know where to look. Curling up with shame, he seemed to shrink into himself. Like a startled mouse, he scurried out the doors of the Buddha Hall.
21
WEAPONS WALL
‘Choose your weapon,’ ordered Sensei Kyuzo, picking Jack from the line of students in the Butokuden.
The taijutsu master stood in the centre of the dojo, his tiny rock-hard fists planted firmly on his hips. Not much bigger than a child, he was dwarfed by the huge pillars of cypress wood that supported the Butokuden’s immense vaulted ceiling. Yet, as every student in the Niten Ichi Ryū knew, this teacher of unarmed combat was
not to be underestimated. He was as mean and dangerous as a pit viper.
Sensei Kyuzo’s beady black eyes followed Jack’s progress across the dojo to the Weapons Wall. Jack gazed in awe at the collection of armaments. There were the familiar bokken and katana swords, plus a good selection of deadly tantō knives. Jack also spotted a couple of nodaichi – their saya extra long to accommodate the huge blades. He recalled Masamoto facing one during a beach duel and how his guardian had been forced to use an oar to overcome the nodaichi’s deadly reach.
To his left hung several bows and arrows, alongside numerous wooden staffs of varied lengths. On his right a neat rack of spears promised a multitude of gruesome deaths – some had simple spikes to skewer; others had sharpened edges to slice and hack; and a number had trident-shaped prongs to inflict the greatest possible damage on impact.
Spread throughout the display were more specialized weapons. Jack wasn’t surprised to see a Japanese fan among the arsenal. He’d faced one of these innocent yet deadly weapons when a kunoichi, a female ninja, had tried to club him to death with one – the spine of a tessen being made of reinforced metal. But there were also manriki-gusari chains, several curved-bladed naginata, sickle-shaped kama and a large oak club encased in iron with vicious-looking studs.
‘Move it! There’ll be a war on before you’ve made your mind up,’ grunted Sensei Kyuzo, the tuft of moustache beneath his nose twitching impatiently.
Jack decided to go for the club. If Sensei Kyuzo wanted a weapon then he’d get one.
But the club was so heavy Jack discovered he could hardly lift it. It went crashing to the floor, crushing his foot. The class burst into fits of giggles as Jack hopped around in agony.
‘You need real muscles to wield a kanabō, gaijin!’ snorted Sensei Kyuzo. ‘Choose something suited to your limited capabilities.’
Irritated, Jack grabbed the nearest thing to him. A tantō.
As usual, Sensei Kyuzo had picked on him to be his uke, demonstration partner. Jack, therefore, knew he was about to suffer the customary abuse and humiliation of being thrown, kicked, pinned and punched across the dojo floor. But this was the first time they’d used weapons in a taijutsu class and Jack wasn’t looking forward to the consequences.
‘A predictable choice,’ said Sensei Kyuzo, ‘but a practical one for demonstrating how to disarm an opponent. Stab me in the stomach.’
Jack blinked in surprise.
‘Do it!’ commanded Sensei Kyuzo.
Jack thrust the blade at the sensei’s gut. The taijutsu master slipped to the outside and slammed his fist on to the back of Jack’s wrist while simultaneously striking Jack in the throat. The tantō dropped to the floor a moment before Jack did.
‘The first principle of disarming is to get out of the way,’ lectured Sensei Kyuzo as Jack lay gasping for breath. ‘Even if the technique is executed poorly, you’ll have avoided immediate danger.’
Jack slowly got to his feet, massaging his throat. As he was still conscious, it meant Sensei Kyuzo had pulled the strike. But the blow had definitely been harder than necessary.
He spotted Akiko with her head in her hands, dismayed at his treatment by their sensei.
‘Choose another weapon,’ ordered the sensei, without giving Jack time to recover.
Jack decided upon a bokken. By selecting the wooden weapon he was familiar and quick with, he might stand a chance of getting his own back. Jack turned to face his teacher.
‘A sword-bearing samurai is harder to disarm,’ explained the sensei, nodding at Jack to begin. ‘Distance and timing are crucial.’
With lightning speed, Jack cut down at Sensei Kyuzo’s head.
Only because the taijutsu master knew what to expect was he able to evade the sword so easily. Stepping to Jack’s right-hand side, he blocked and grabbed Jack’s elbow and wrist, executing a lock on him.
‘The second principle is to inflict pain, thereby distracting and maybe even disabling your opponent,’ Sensei Kyuzo explained as he added pressure to the lock and made Jack’s face contort with agony. ‘In this instance, you can follow through with the sword and cut your opponent in half.’
Forcing the bokken down and round, he freed the sword from Jack’s grasp and drove the blade up between his legs. The class all winced as the kissaki of the bokken was then drawn from his groin up to his chest. Even though the contact was light, it still hurt and Jack was very glad he hadn’t selected a steel katana.
‘If you can gain control of your opponent’s weapon, even better. This is the third principle,’ lectured Sensei Kyuzo, ignoring Jack’s suffering. ‘Now, come at me with a spear.’
Infuriated, Jack picked the lethal trident-shaped spear and charged at his sensei. Calmly, the taijutsu master dodged the sharpened prongs and kicked Jack in the shins. Grabbing hold of the spear, he twisted it out of Jack’s hands and slammed him in the jaw with it. Jack was floored a second time.
‘Get up!’ sneered Sensei Kyuzo, showing no sympathy. ‘I’ll give you one last chance to get me. Unless you’re too feeble.’
Shaking his head clear, Jack staggered back to his feet. He could see Akiko now had her eyes covered with her hand, unable to watch any more. Yamato was silently willing him to give up while he had the chance.
Though Jack knew his sensei was baiting him, his blood was boiling and he couldn’t resist a last attempt. Scanning the wall, he looked for a weapon that would keep his sadistic teacher at bay. He picked up a length of chain with a weight on the end. This had to be it.
Whirling the manriki-gusari above his head, he advanced on the taijutsu master. Jack was pleased to see Sensei Kyuzo immediately backing away.
‘Such a weapon is very difficult to disarm,’ said the sensei, retreating further. ‘You cannot block it. You cannot grab it. You cannot easily avoid it.’
Jack grinned. For the first time, he had Sensei Kyuzo. He’d beaten him. And now he would strike…
‘Your only option is kuki-nage,’ shouted Sensei Kyuzo, whirling towards Jack. ‘An air throw!’
Jack whipped the chain round as fast as he could. Sensei Kyuzo, arms outstretched, spun within its arc. His lead hand caught Jack in the head and, using the momentum of Jack’s strike, he whipped him off his feet. The other hand took control of the chain and drove Jack towards the ground. Jack flew through the air and landed hard upon the dojo floor for a third time, his arm trapped in a painful lock.
‘The air throw is based on the principle of the sphere: a sphere never loses its centre,’ explained Sensei Kyuzo. He disarmed Jack of the manriki-gusari but kept the lock on, despite Jack’s submissive taps. ‘In this case, you cannot resist the force. You have to go with it, throwing your attacker in the air.’
Jack tapped louder, the pain in his arm growing unbearable. But Sensei Kyuzo continued to ignore his calls of submission.
‘You’ve now seen the four disarming techniques that you’ll be working with. These could save your life in a battle. Pair up. Choose a weapon. Then practise on one another.’
He finally released Jack, discarding him like an unwanted toy.
Rubbing his aching elbow joint, Jack joined Akiko and the others at the Weapons Wall.
‘Why do you let him goad you like that?’ said Akiko, glancing at Jack with concern as she weighed a spear in her hand.
‘I never volunteered to be the taijutsu punchbag,’ protested Jack. ‘He always has it in for me. But at least I know whose side he’ll be on, when there’s a war.’
‘Jack, don’t say such a thing,’ she scolded. ‘You can’t question his loyalty to Masamoto-sama. If Sensei Kyuzo heard you talking like that, he’d give you punishment for a month.’
Jack shrugged. ‘He’ll punish me anyway.’
‘This is heavy,’ grunted Saburo, trying to lift the kanabō for himself. ‘It would certainly crush a skull or two!’
Yamato was swinging the chain in his hand. ‘Jack, this was a good choice of weapon, but if you wanted distance, why didn’t you use a bow and a
rrow against Sensei Kyuzo?’
‘Good idea, he’d never be able to defend against that!’ puffed Saburo, the iron club in his hands.
‘Wouldn’t I?’ challenged the taijutsu master, who’d suddenly appeared behind Saburo.
‘Well… surely, it would be impossible,’ Saburo stammered, dropping the kanabō with a loud bang.
‘It’s merely a matter of reflexes.’
‘But how could you stop an arrow?’ exclaimed Saburo, taken aback by Sensei Kyuzo’s blasé attitude.
‘With your hands.’
Saburo snorted incredulously.
Sensei Kyuzo glared at him for his impudence, but then noticed that his students had all gathered round. They were looking expectantly at him, wanting to see this great feat.
He snatched a bow from the Weapons Wall. ‘I need someone who can fire an arrow straight. Akiko-chan, I instruct you to shoot me in the heart.’
Sensei Kyuzo walked to the other end of the Butokuden, ignoring Akiko’s protests.
‘What are you waiting for?’ he snapped. ‘We’re wasting valuable lesson time.’
Despite the samurai’s impatience, Jack thought his sensei was relishing the opportunity to display his martial arts skills. The man was conscious of his diminutive size and loved proving he was stronger, quicker and more skilled than anyone else.
Akiko nocked an arrow and drew back on the bow. Her hands were shaking slightly as she took aim.
A tension hung in the air. No one moved. Everyone waited to see what Sensei Kyuzo would do.
Akiko released the bowstring and the arrow flew towards their teacher.
Sensei Kyuzo didn’t move a muscle.
The arrow shot past his shoulder and struck a pillar behind.
‘I told you to aim it at me!’ he shouted angrily. ‘There’s no point in me trying to stop an arrow that isn’t a threat.’
Akiko licked her lips nervously and strung a second arrow. This time, she aimed for the heart.
Jack knew she wouldn’t miss. They were about to witness the death of their sensei.