The Way of the Sword

by Unknown

  ‘Leave him alone!’ ordered Yamato, running on to the bridge with Akiko and his friends.

  Jack felt a small wave of relief. At least he was not alone in this fight.

  ‘Let Jack go,’ demanded Akiko, pulling at Hiroto’s arms.

  ‘Look who it is; the gaijin lover!’ announced Kazuki, looking her up and down scornfully. ‘Do as she says. It’s only fair to give them a fighting chance. Scorpions!’

  At Kazuki’s command, the Scorpion Gang dropped into fighting guard, facing off against each of Jack’s friends. Yamato and Saburo stood their ground, but Yori trembled as a boy twice his size loomed over him. Ignoring Kiku with a sneer, Moriko squared up to Akiko and hissed into her face like a wildcat.

  ‘Come on! Make the first move,’ Moriko dared, baring her blackened teeth and fingernails that had been sharpened into claws. ‘Give me the excuse I need to scar you!’

  23

  BREAKING BOARDS

  Akiko slipped into stance, preparing to defend herself. She knew from experience that Moriko fought viciously. But just as the fight was about to kick off, a bō struck the wooden bridge with tremendous force and everyone froze.

  ‘Do we have a problem?’ enquired Sensei Kano. ‘In a setting such as this, there should be no need for raised voices.’

  Nobu and Hiroto immediately released Jack.

  ‘No, Sensei,’ replied Kazuki in a friendly voice. ‘Jack’s lost his picture and is a bit upset. There was a misunderstanding, but it’s all sorted now. Isn’t it, Jack?’

  Jack glared at Kazuki, but there was little else he could do. He had no proof of what had happened. Sensei Kano would never be able to see the truth.

  ‘Yes,’ he replied flatly, not taking his eyes off his enemy.

  ‘I understand the situation perfectly,’ stated Sensei Kano. ‘I think it is time that you all went back to the school.’

  Kazuki signed to his Scorpion Gang to follow him and they left without another word.

  Jack looked up in despair at his sister’s drawing caught high in the topmost branches of the maple tree. Even with his skills as a rigging monkey, there was no way he could get to it. The upper branches would snap under his weight.

  ‘Don’t worry, Jack,’ said Akiko, seeing the sorrow well up in Jack’s eyes, ‘I’ll get it for you.’

  With astounding grace, Akiko launched herself from the bridge, kicking off from the handrail and catching hold of the nearest branch of the maple tree. She swung herself up to the next level, then flew up the tree swift as a sparrow. Fearlessly walking out on to an upper branch, she caught hold of the fluttering paper.

  With the same unparalleled skill, Akiko dropped down the tree and back on to the bridge. She handed Jack his sister’s drawing and bowed.

  Jack was speechless, only managing a nod of the head to show his appreciation. The others appeared equally impressed.

  ‘I’ve always enjoyed climbing trees,’ she said by way of an excuse, heading towards the school without a backward glance.

  Where had Akiko’s remarkable ability come from? None of them had been taught those skills at the Niten Ichi Ryū. Her agility reminded Jack of the ninja who had flown like bats through the rigging of the Alexandria, and of the one person he’d seen scale a castle wall as if he was a spider – Dragon Eye.

  Is this what Akiko had been up to on her nightly outings? Learning ninja skills?

  But that was absurd. The samurai hated the ninja and all they stood for, and surely ninja felt the same way about samurai. What sort of ninja would want to teach a samurai their tricks? The whole idea was ludicrous. Besides, only men became ninja. Jack immediately dismissed the idea.

  CRACK!

  Kazuki’s fist drove through the cedar board, smashing it into two pieces.

  The class applauded loudly as Kazuki became the first student to break wood in the run-up to the trials.

  But he was not the only one to succeed at tamashiwari that morning. The constant training inflicted by Sensei Kyuzo on the makiwara over the past month was paying off as Hiroto, Goro, Yamato and then Emi and Akiko all snapped their single pieces of board. With more time, the students realized that one board would become two, and eventually the three required in the Trial by Wood.

  Jack was preparing for his attempt when Sensei Kyuzo suddenly shouted, ‘REI!’

  The whole class bowed as Masamoto strode into the Butokuden. Jack was taken aback at his guardian’s unexpected appearance.

  ‘Please, Sensei Kyuzo,’ said Masamoto, with a wave of his hand, ‘continue as if I wasn’t here. I just wish to check on progress for the trials.’

  Sensei Kyuzo bowed and returned to his class.

  ‘Jack-kun, step up!’ he ordered.

  Jack hurried to the centre of the Butokuden and waited as Sensei Kyuzo positioned a single cedar board between the two stable blocks. He then placed a second board on top of the first.

  ‘But –’ Jack protested.

  Sensei Kyuzo cut him off with a withering look.

  Jack groaned inwardly. Sensei Kyuzo had promised he would do everything in his power to ruin Jack’s chances of entering the Circle of Three. Now the sensei was setting him up to fail in front of Masamoto.

  Jack could see that Yamato and Akiko were equally appalled by the unfairness, but they were in no position to say anything.

  Jack’s only choice was to prove Sensei Kyuzo wrong.

  During their training, Jack had come to understand that the tamashiwari technique required more than brute strength. It demanded total commitment, concentration and focus.

  He had to strike through the wood, not at it.

  The power came from his body, not the arm itself.

  He needed to condense his ki, his spiritual energy, and transfer it through his fist into the object he was striking. And most crucial of all, he had to truly believe that he was capable of breaking the block.

  Jack took all the anger, frustration and hate he had suffered at the hands of Sensei Kyuzo, Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang and channelled it into the wooden blocks. With an explosive force that even surprised Jack, he slammed his fist through the wood, screaming ‘KIAIIIII!’

  With the sound of a gunshot, the two blocks shattered apart, the splinters flying through the air.

  There was a moment of awed silence then the class erupted into applause.

  Jack was euphoric. A rush of adrenaline pulsed through him as he experienced a sudden release of all his frustrations. For that brief moment, he was all-powerful.

  As the clapping died down, one pair of hands kept applauding.

  ‘Very impressive,’ commended Masamoto, stepping forward. ‘You have been training your students well, Sensei Kyuzo. May I borrow Jack-kun for a moment?’

  Sensei Kyuzo bowed in acknowledgement, but Jack noticed the burning frustration in the samurai’s eyes.

  Masamoto beckoned Jack over and led him outside.

  ‘I haven’t had an opportunity to speak with you for a while,’ he began as they walked past the construction works of the Hall of the Hawk, where several carpenters were busy hammering down floorboards and putting up roof beams. Masamoto and Jack entered the sanctuary of the Southern Zen Garden to escape the noise.

  ‘How are you coping as a young samurai?’ enquired Masamoto.

  Jack, still buzzing from the tamashiwari, replied, ‘Great, but the training’s been harder than I expected.’

  Masamoto laughed. ‘The training is easy. It’s your expectations that are making it hard,’ he observed. ‘I must apologize for not being around much this year to guide you, but affairs of state have taken priority. I’m sure you understand.’

  Jack nodded. He assumed Masamoto was referring to Kamakura’s anti-Christian campaign. There had been more reports of persecution in Edo, Kazuki ensuring Jack was made fully aware of each one. Jack now wondered how widespread the problem had become to require so much of his guardian’s time in serving daimyo Takatomi.

  ‘The good news is that we have dealt with the situa
tion and you’ll be seeing far more of me for the rest of the year,’ Masamoto said, a smile spreading across the unscarred side of his face.

  ‘Has daimyo Kamakura been stopped?’ Jack blurted, unable to hide the relief in his voice.

  ‘Kamakura?’ queried Masamoto, the smile disappearing. ‘So you are aware of the issue?’

  He looked hard at Jack, his stare as penetrating as steel blade. For a moment Jack wondered if he had spoken out of turn.

  ‘There’s no reason to concern yourself with such matters,’ continued his guardian, indicating for Jack to sit down next to him on the veranda that overlooked the Zen garden and a small stone water feature. ‘Still, to allay your fears I can tell you in strictest confidence that daimyo Takatomi has required my services to deal with… how should I say, “disagreements” over the running of our country and who should be welcome upon our shores. I’ve been carrying out assignments to establish the positions of other provincial lords on this matter. The vast majority are on our side. You have nothing to worry about.’

  ‘But what about all the priests who’ve died, and daimyo Kamakura’s order to kill all Christians and foreigners who don’t leave?’

  ‘I can assure you that’s purely the prejudice of one daimyo.’

  ‘But might it not spread among the other lords?’ insisted Jack. ‘I mean, if it did, surely I’d be in danger and could get killed before I return home.’

  ‘Return home?’ said Masamoto, raising his eyebrows in surprise. ‘But this is your home.’

  Jack didn’t know what to say in reply. Though he couldn’t deny that Japan was now in his blood, England was where his heart truly lay and always would.

  ‘You’re my son,’ affirmed Masamoto proudly. ‘No one would dare harm you. Besides, you’re samurai now, and with a few years’ more training you won’t need me to protect you.’

  Masamoto clapped Jack firmly on the back and laughed.

  Jack forced a smile. Masamoto had never asked for anything in return for his kindness and Jack knew that contradicting his guardian now would be the most disrespectful thing he could do. He would be throwing all that generosity back into the samurai’s face. However much he wanted to go home and find Jess, Jack owed Masamoto his life and, as a samurai, his service too.

  Jack decided he would bide his time and dedicate himself to mastering the Two Heavens. Then, once he’d proved he could look after himself, he would ask for Masamoto’s permission to leave.

  ‘I understand, Masamoto-sama,’ said Jack, bowing his head in deference. ‘I was just worried that the situation was getting out of control. But I’m determined to enter the Circle of Three and learn the Two Heavens.’

  ‘That’s the samurai spirit I’m looking for. I can appreciate how you must yearn for your homeland,’ conceded Masamoto. ‘But I made a promise to the memory of your father, and the honour of my dear departed son, Tenno, that I would take care of you. You are my responsibility. And you are perfectly safe.’

  Despite Jack’s fears that Kamakura’s campaign would become bigger than even the great Masamoto could handle, he knew deep down that his guardian would fight to his last breath protecting him.

  Masamoto turned to Jack, concern now etched in his brow. ‘I’ve been made aware that you’re experiencing some difficulties with other students in the school. Is this right?’

  Jack nodded once. ‘But it’s nothing that I can’t handle,’ he added quickly.

  ‘I’m sure it isn’t,’ replied Masamoto, noting Jack’s bravado with pride. ‘Nonetheless, now that I am back, I will be making it very clear that I won’t tolerate bullying or prejudice in my school. At the same time, I wish to give you some advice that stood me well in my youth.’

  Jack had never witnessed Masamoto like this before. Severe, austere and commanding, yes. But paternal – this was something very different. Jack felt a pang of grief for his true father.

  ‘I realize it’s hard being different. The truth is that they’re envious of your skills as a swordsman and samurai, but, if you ignore their taunts, they will ignore you.’

  ‘How can I?’ said Jack. ‘It’s not as if I blend in.’

  ‘Do I?’ Masamoto asked, turning so that the reddened mass of scars down the left-hand side of his face was fully visible to Jack.

  Jack said nothing.

  ‘Apply fudoshin,’ instructed Masamoto, reaching forward and dipping his finger into the large stone bowl in the water feature. He traced a circular pattern upon its surface and watched the ripples ebb away.

  ‘Instead of allowing yourself to be led and trapped by your feelings, let them disappear as they form like letters drawn upon water with a finger. They cannot hurt you, unless you let them.’

  24

  TRIAL BY WOOD AND FIRE

  A wintery smudge of sun rose in the sky to reveal a world bleached white with snow. The curved eaves of the Butsuden hung heavy with powder drifts and the school was oddly peaceful, all sound muffled by the abrupt change in season from autumn to winter.

  Jack’s breath billowed out in front of him like smoke as he sliced through the frozen air with his katana.

  Every morning since Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang had attacked him in the Hall of the Hawk, Jack had risen early to practise his kenjutsu in the Southern Zen Garden, performing a ritual of one hundred cuts of every kata before breakfast – just as he had vowed he would. Sensei Hosokawa may have forbidden him to use his sword in class, but that wasn’t going to stop Jack practising with it in his own time. He was determined to succeed in the Gauntlet, whatever the Trial by Sword entailed.

  Jack would then head over to Butokuden and strike the makiwara fifty times with each fist, conditioning his bones for the Trial by Wood. He would hit the padded post so hard that his hands would still be trembling during breakfast and he’d struggle to hold his hashi.

  In the afternoons following classes, he joined Akiko in the garden as she perfected her kyujutsu skills in preparation for the Trial by Fire. Between arrows, she would correct his stance, guide his aim and help him ‘forget’ the target. Occasionally Jack would even hit it. Afterwards, when they had time, she would test him on his kanji and teach him a new character.

  Once during these unofficial lessons, Jack had brought up the matter of her extraordinary tree-climbing skill, but she just dismissed it as natural ability, laughing at his suggestion of ninja training and ending the discussion by exclaiming, ‘I’m no more a ninja than you are Japanese.’

  Jack even joined Yori in his nightly ritual of folding cranes, hoping to increase his chances in Sensei Yamada’s Trial by Koan. He had now mastered the various folds and was finding the process of origami to be somewhat soothing, though why Yori needed so many of the paper models was beyond Jack’s comprehension. His friend’s tiny room was overflowing with hundreds of the little white birds.

  Through this daily routine, Jack’s life in Japan acquired a steady rhythm and day by day, brick by brick, the invisible wall that stood in the way of his samurai training was crumbling. He knew he’d improved, but would it be enough to secure him a place in the Circle?

  If it had not been for Kazuki and his Scorpion Gang, he would have been almost content with his life at the school. Following Masamoto’s decree, Jack was no longer physically threatened by any of the gang members, but it didn’t stop them from taunting him, spitting insults or whispering ‘Go home, gaijin!’ whenever the opportunity presented itself. These were the attacks Masamoto couldn’t protect him from. The ones he needed to apply fudoshin against.

  Initially Jack was able to let the empty threats wash over him, but it became harder as more students began to sympathize with Kazuki’s point of view. It was as if a split was forming in the school between those who accepted foreigners and those who didn’t.

  He was beginning to wonder if Masamoto had been entirely truthful with him regarding Kamakura’s influence over Japan. Despite his promise, the samurai had been summoned away twice in the past three weeks by daimyo Takatomi, and Jack w
ould occasionally bump into students discussing the news of another Christian who had been persecuted or banished by daimyo Kamakura and his samurai. Any time this happened, the students would appear embarrassed by Jack’s presence, the conversation grinding to a halt, before they made their excuses and walked away. Jack got a real sense that, though some of them still liked him, they could no longer afford to be associated with him. He was quickly learning who his true friends were.

  Jack, raising his sword to make the final cut of his practice session, heard the crisp crunch of snow behind him. He spun round, half expecting to see Kazuki or one of his cohorts.

  ‘I thought I’d find you out here,’ said Akiko. She was wrapped in several layers of kimono against the cold, but her warm smile thawed the winter chill in the air.

  Jack dropped his guard and sheathed his sword.

  Akiko glanced around at the thick blanket of snow that had fallen overnight. ‘You do know what this means, don’t you?’

  Jack nodded.

  ‘The trials for the Circle of Three.’

  Later that morning, stepping up to the three wooden blocks carefully stacked in the centre of the Butokuden, Jack prayed all his efforts would carry him through the trials. He needed to be among the top five, but it was just his luck the selection began with the toughest of these trials – tamashiwari.

  No one so far had broken through three blocks and Jack knew he had only one chance to get this trial right.

  The entire school lined the length of the Butokuden to watch. They fell silent as Jack positioned himself to strike.

  Jack rubbed his hands for warmth, even though the morning sunlight was filtering through the slatted windows. Making his final preparations, he tried to summon the explosive energy he’d tapped into when he had demolished the two blocks in front of Masamoto.

  Sensei Kyuzo, who was the official adjudicator of this trial, stood to one side, his arms crossed. ‘When you are ready,’ he said, staring irritably at Jack. ‘Not that you’ll ever be,’ he added under his breath as Jack raised his fist.