34
YAMADA’S SECRET
‘Why weren’t you defending their honour?’ thundered Masamoto.
The reply was muffled and couldn’t be heard.
‘I saw you retreat! Tenno would never have done such a thing,’ continued Masamoto, spitting anger like fire. ‘Why didn’t you help Jack-kun? Correct me if I’m wrong, but you owe Jack-kun a life. He saved you. He’s proving to be more samurai than you’ve ever been.’
There was the sound of sobbing and a mumbled apology.
‘Where is your courage, your valour, your honour? It is you who should be fighting at the Taryu-Jiai, defending the name of my school. Not Jack-kun!’
Masamoto’s voice cracked, and it was accompanied by a crash and the sound of a teacup tumbling off a table.
‘You have brought dishonour on this family and on yourself! Think about what it means to be a Masamoto, then come back when you have an answer! Now get out!’
The shoji slid open and Yamato emerged, his face reddened and wet with shameful tears. He avoided the startled stares of Jack, Akiko and Saburo who knelt outside the Hō-oh-no-ma, the Hall of the Phoenix. This was Masamoto’s personal training hall where only students good enough to be taught the ‘Two Heavens’ technique were ever summoned.
‘Yamato, I’m sorry…’ began Jack, wanting to help him in some way.
But Yamato cut him off with a ferocious glare and hurried off without looking back.
‘It’s not your fault, Jack,’ said Akiko quietly.
‘Yes, it is. If I’d never come here, he wouldn’t be in this –’
‘ENTER!’ boomed Masamoto’s voice.
They all looked at one another, terrified. After the hanami fight, Masamoto had marched them back to the school and ordered them straight to bed. They had hardly slept all night, for Masamoto had demanded to see all of them at first light, though Kiku and Yori had been been excused as innocent bystanders. Akiko had explained to Jack that a summons to the Hall of the Phoenix before breakfast meant only one thing – they were to be punished. They just didn’t know how badly.
‘Seiza!’ he said as they entered, all bowing as low as possible.
Masamoto was sitting upon a dais, a small black lacquered table at his side. A maid was clearing up the spilt tea, while another set up a fresh pot of sencha for him.
Behind him, painted in vivid colours upon a silk screen, was the image of a flaming phoenix, its wings dripping fire and its beak thrusting up towards heaven. Masamoto fumed like a live volcano, his scar crimson and waxen like molten lava. He waited until the maids had departed before speaking. Jack, Akiko and Saburo trembled as they kept their heads low to the ground.
‘Sit up!’
Masamoto examined each of them carefully, as if he were measuring the suitability of the punishment with their capacity to withstand it. Masamoto breathed deeply and Jack’s mouth went dry with dread.
‘Excellent!’ he said, a faint smile breaking through his fiery demeanour. ‘I was most impressed with the way you handled yourselves last night.’
They all stared at one another in confusion. Were they not going to be punished?
‘Saburo-kun, you are forgiven for your less than sober state. But only for the reason that you showed loyalty to your fellow samurai and your quick-witted sweep of that Raiden character proved to me that even in your drunken condition, you could function as a warrior.’
Saburo bowed profusely, unable to contain his relief at his pardon.
‘Akiko-chan, you are truly a lady of the Niten Ichi Ryū. It is only the bravest of warriors who stand tall in the face of danger,’ he said, glowing with an immense pride. ‘Jack-kun’s assailant must have been twice your size, but you didn’t hesitate. It was unfortunate that he was so bullish that he wasn’t felled by your mawashi-geri, but don’t worry, he’ll be waking up very sore this morning.’
Akiko bowed, letting out a quiet sigh as she too was let off the hook.
‘Now to you, Jack-kun,’ he said, and sipped upon his cup of sencha.
Jack knew that since he was the cause of the quarrel, he would not get away so lightly. He would undoubtedly suffer the full consequences of Masamoto’s wrath.
The moment of judgement drew on, as Masamoto took his time appreciating his tea. Jack’s stomach tightened into a knot of iron.
‘You surpass my expectations every time,’ he finally said. ‘You have developed your martial skills considerably. You are loyal to your friends. And you have the spirit of a lion. Are you sure you weren’t born samurai?’
‘No, Masamoto-sama,’ said Jack, a wave of relief rushing through him at the reprieve.
Bowing, Akiko asked, ‘Excuse me, Masamoto-sama?’
‘Yes, Akiko-chan?’
‘Are you telling us that you saw the whole thing?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then why did you not prevent the fight happening?’ interrupted Jack, astonished at this revelation.
‘You appeared to be handling yourselves well enough,’ he said, taking a sip of sencha. ‘Besides, I was interested to see how you would perform under pressure. The ultimate measure of a samurai is not where he stands in the comfort of his dojo, but where he stands at times of challenge and threat. I must say, while untidy, your mae-geri was inventive and proved effective.’
Jack, Akiko and Saburo looked at one another aghast. Masamoto had viewed the whole episode as a martial arts test, while for them it had been a matter of life and death.
‘Now, on to the Taryu-Jiai. I am sure Akiko-chan has told you what a Taryu-Jiai is?’
On the march back to the school Akiko, highly alarmed by the whole idea, had explained it to Jack in a tremulous voice: ‘A Taryu-Jiai is a competition between different martial arts schools. Participants fight in selected disciplines to establish which school is the best, but there is much more at stake than a simple match. A Taryu-Jiai is a matter of honour. The winning school will be crowned the best in Kyoto and the founder of that school has the rare privilege of an audience with the Emperor. It is unthinkable to Masamoto that we should lose.’
Jack nodded his understanding to Masamoto.
‘Good,’ said Masamoto, putting his teacup down. ‘You therefore understand the importance of such an event and why we must win.’
‘But how could we ever win?’ blurted out Saburo. ‘As you say, they are twice our size and would have killed us if you hadn’t –’
‘Enough!’ said Masamoto, cutting dead Saburo’s outburst. ‘Defeat is not an option! Wipe out all thoughts of losing. I do not wish to hear the word uttered again. Besides, the greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it.’7
‘Hai, Masamoto-sama,’ they agreed doubtfully.
‘We are fortunate that I managed to negotiate enough time for you to perfect your skills. True, they are bigger than you. But the bigger they are, the harder your enemy falls and, with the appropriate techniques, they will fall.’
Akiko had been right, thought Jack. Defeat was an alien concept to Masamoto’s mind. He expected nothing less from them.
‘I have arranged with your sensei for extra classes every night until the contest. You will be required to train twice as hard and twice as long as anyone else.’
‘But –’ protested Saburo.
‘Enough! You will act like samurai and you will be victorious.’
Masamoto dismissed them and, bowing, they left the hall.
Outside, Kazuki and Nobu were waiting on their knees. Nobu looked pale with anguish and for once Kazuki didn’t have the nerve to taunt Jack. He was far too concerned with his own predicament to care about Jack.
Jack, Akiko and Saburo made their way in silence to the Chō-no-ma for breakfast, too stunned at the task ahead of them to utter a single word.
Throughout the day, Jack, Akiko and Saburo were swamped by the other students, demanding to know if it was true that they would be fighting in a Taryu-Jiai for the honour of the school. The rumour had spread rapidly and now that it was confirm
ed, everyone wanted to be their friend, hoping to increase their status by association.
Jack was suddenly accepted as a fellow samurai. No longer did they call him Gaijin Jack or whisper behind his back as they passed. They had all heard how he had fought bravely against the Seto twins from Hokkaido and they wanted to be part of such a courageous deed.
By dinner that night, the hanami fight had become legend. The Seto twins were giants, twice the height of anyone, and carrying staffs. Akiko had flown through the air, executing scissor kicks, crescent kicks and axe kicks in every direction. Jack was now the samurai who could fight without needing to draw breath. And Saburo had become the drunken warrior, who had defeated Raiden the Thunder God with his eyes closed.
Jack suspected that many of these exaggerations were originating from the garrulous Saburo himself. Saburo never tired of recounting the story, the attention he received swelling his ego. He was clearly allowing his bravado to get the better of him. Akiko and Jack, however, were more subdued on the matter, anxious for what the ensuing months had in store.
After dinner, they made their way up to the Buddha Hall for their first Taryu-Jiai lesson with Sensei Yamada. As they entered the courtyard, Kazuki and Nobu were seen heading their way. They crossed paths, yet Kazuki and Nobu resolutely ignored them.
‘Where are they going?’ asked Jack, surprised Kazuki hadn’t spat his usual taunt of ‘Gaijin Jack’.
‘ To the Butokuden,’ replied Akiko.
‘What? Are they training too?’
‘No!’ laughed Saburo. ‘Didn’t you hear? Masamoto has punished them for dishonouring the school. He has ordered them to polish the entire hall, floor to ceiling.’
‘Really? That’s going to take days!’ said Jack, unable to refrain from a gleeful smile.
‘Not as long as it will take them to clean every brick of this courtyard,’ said Saburo with equal glee. ‘And then they have to rake the gravel in the Southern Zen garden, but they can only use their hashi! It will take them weeks!’
That would keep Kazuki out of his way, thought Jack with relief. He didn’t need Kazuki harassing him with everything else going on.
They reached the top of the stairs and entered the Buddha Hall. Sensei Yamada was already perched upon his cushioned dais, incense burning, surrounded by candles.
‘Come. Come. Seiza!’ welcomed Yamada, his voice resonating in the vast expanse of the hall.
Jack, Akiko and Saburo sat on the three cushions laid out at Sensei Yamada’s feet.
‘So you are the three mighty warriors?’ said Yamada rhetorically, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘And it is my honour to prepare your minds for the great battle?’
Sensei Yamada lit another incense stick, a mix of cedar and a red resin he called ‘Dragon’s Blood’. Extracted from rattan palm trees, it had a heavy, woody aroma and Jack felt quite light-headed with its potency.
Sensei Yamada then half-closed his eyes and hummed lightly to himself, drifting off on another one of his trances. They were all familiar with these by now and Jack, Akiko and Saburo each settled into their own meditations.
‘What are you afraid of, Jack-kun?’ asked Sensei Yamada after several minutes, without breaking his trance.
‘Umm,’ said Jack, the unexpected question interrupting his own meditation as he slipped into the fifth ‘View’ – natural wisdom – the stage when things can be seen in their true light.
‘Come. Come. Tell me exactly what you see. What are you afraid of?’
Sensei Yamada’s voice thrummed in Jack’s head, the incense amplifying his senses, and out of the swirling murkiness of his mind, images materialized, faces floated and nightmares appeared.
‘Drowning… I was always… afraid of drowning… being dragged… to the bottom of the ocean,’ said Jack, faltering as if he was expelling his words like a bad dream.
‘Good. Good. What else do you see?’
‘My mother… I’m scared… She’s leaving me… dying… alone.’ Jack moaned, then twitched a little in his trance. ‘Ginsel… I see Ginsel… there’s a knife in his back…’
Then in the darkness of Jack’s mind, a green mist condensed into a single eye.
‘A green eye… Now I see a green eye… like a dragon’s. Dokugan Ryu’s eye… floating over my father… I can’t help him… he’s dying,’ stammered Jack, his eyes bursting open to escape the haunting image. ‘Death… I’m afraid of… death!’
‘Jack-kun, there’s no need to be afraid of death,’ said Yamada calmly, opening his own eyes and drawing Jack so deeply into them, he thought he would drown.
‘Death is more universal than life,’ continued Yamada, his voice a warm hum in Jack’s ears. ‘Everyone dies, but not everyone lives. Your mother. Ginsel. Your father. Let them go, Jack-kun.’
‘I… I don’t understand,’ stammered Jack, overwhelmed with the magnitude of Sensei Yamada’s words. He tried to stifle sobs of anguish, fearful the others would think him weak.
‘Death is not the biggest fear you should have. Your biggest fear is taking the risk to be truly alive. It is about how you live, Jack-kun, even in death,’ explained Yamada, his eyes brimming with wisdom. ‘That is what’s most important. Masamoto-sama told me your father lived and died protecting you. There is not a more worthy cause. You need not fear for him, for he lived and he still lives in you.’
As Sensei Yamada’s words reverberated in Jack’s head, tears started to course down his cheeks. Months of loneliness, pain, suffering and sadness flowed out of him like a river. He no longer cared if Akiko or Saburo heard him.
Gradually the sobs subsided.
Jack wiped his eyes and discovered that he felt lighter, calmer and more at ease, as if some unseen weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he had been wrapped in a great blanket of peace.
Akiko and Saburo, brought out of their own meditations by Jack’s suffering, observed him with quiet compassion. Sensei Yamada leant forward, an expression of serene triumph upon his face, and addressed them all.
‘I know not how to defeat others, I only know how to win over myself,’ he whispered, drawing them closer with his words. ‘The real and most dangerous opponents we face in life are fear, anger, confusion, doubt and despair. If we overcome those enemies that attack us from within, we can attain a true victory over any attack from without.’
Sensei Yamada gazed at each in turn, ensuring they had understood his meaning.
‘Conquer your inner fears and you can conquer the world. That is your lesson for today.’
Sensei Yamada gave a small bow and dismissed them. Akiko and Saburo bowed back then started for the door, but Jack remained sitting.
‘I need to ask Sensei Yamada something,’ said Jack, in reply to their concerned looks. ‘I’ll join you in a minute.’
‘We’ll wait for you on the steps,’ said Akiko and led Saburo away.
‘Yes, Jack-kun,’ acknowledged Sensei Yamada. ‘Something troubling you?’
‘Well… yesterday morning, I had a…’
‘Vision?’ finished Sensei Yamada.
‘Yes. How did you know?’
‘Often happens around this time. The mind, once freed, is more powerful than you can ever imagine. What did you see?’
Jack described his dream of the red demon furiously attacking the butterfly.
‘There are many ways to interpret such revelations,’ said Sensei Yamada, after some contemplation. ‘Its true meaning will be hidden under the many layers of your mind, and only you will be able to unwrap them all. You need to find the key that unlocks the secret.’
Jack was profoundly disappointed. He had hoped the old monk would have been able to tell him the answer, but Sensei Yamada was being as obscure as ever.
‘Perhaps the key is chō-geri…’ murmured Yamada, more to himself than to Jack.
‘Chō-geri?’ prompted Jack, suddenly hopeful.
‘Yes, Chō-geri. Sometimes the way through to understanding the mind is through the body. Your vision containe
d a butterfly. Its movements evaded the demon. Perhaps Chō-geri will enlighten you further.’
‘So where do I find the Chō-geri?’
‘It is not a matter of “where”, Jack-kun. It is a matter of “how” to find it. Chō-geri is an ancient Chinese martial arts technique lost in time. It is named the “Butterfly Kick” because it is a flying kick in which all the limbs are extended in a position similar to that of a butterfly’s wings in flight. It’s a highly advanced manoeuvre that will cut a swath through any attack. Chō-geri is rumoured to be indefensible.’
‘So why tell me about the key if no one knows it?’ said Jack, getting frustrated with Yamada’s continual enigmas.
‘I didn’t say no one,’ he replied, then studied Jack for a long time. Jack felt distinctly uncomfortable, as if the sensei was somehow peering into his soul.
‘I could teach you it,’ he said eventually, ‘but it may be far beyond your abilities.’
‘B-but…’ stuttered Jack in disbelief. ‘Pardon my disrespect, Sensei, but aren’t you too old for martial arts?’
‘Oh, the blindness of youth,’ said Yamada, getting to his feet with the help of his walking stick.
Jack was about to apologize profusely when, without warning, Sensei Yamada let go of the stick and sprang into the air.
The old man’s torso twisted, his arms swung in an arc and both his legs shot out, striking high over Jack’s head. Sensei Yamada rotated all the way round before landing lightly back upon his dais.
Jack sat open-mouthed as Sensei Yamada nonchalantly readjusted his kimono, picked up his walking stick and prepared to depart.
‘How on earth did you do that? How could you?’ stammered Jack, flabbergasted at the old man’s incomprehensible agility.
‘Never judge a sword by its saya. I am a monk, Jack-kun. But what am I?’ he said cryptically, before blowing out the candles and shuffling off into the darkness.
The remaining trails of incense smoke spiralled like ghosts into the air and he was gone.
The Way of the Warrior Page 18
