The Way of the Dragon

by Unknown

  Sensei Nakamura eventually brought the exercise to an end.

  ‘Now I want you to share your haiku with the person next to you,’ she instructed. ‘See if they can experience the moment you were trying to express.’

  Jack turned to Saburo, empty-handed.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ said Saburo. ‘I think you’ll like mine, though.’

  Saburo quietly read his poem to Jack and Jack couldn’t help but snigger.

  ‘You find the task amusing?’ enquired Sensei Nakamura.

  ‘No, Sensei,’ replied Jack, trying to suppress his grin.

  ‘Perhaps you’d like to read out your haiku.’

  Jack looked down at his desk, embarrassed. ‘I couldn’t think of one.’

  ‘You’ve had all afternoon, yet not managed a single word?’ she said, dismayed. ‘Well then, let us hear from your friend.’

  Saburo looked shocked. He clearly hadn’t thought they would have to read out their haiku to the class.

  ‘Do I have to? It’s not very good,’ he excused himself.

  ‘Let me be the judge of that,’ insisted Sensei Nakamura.

  Saburo reluctantly got to his feet, his paper trembling in his hand. He cleared his throat, then began:

  ‘Letting out a fart –

  it doesn’t make you laugh

  when you live alone.’

  There was a burst of raucous laugher from the back row. Most of the students, however, tried to hide their amusement when they saw the icy look Sensei Nakamura gave Saburo.

  ‘Very amusing,’ she noted. ‘In fact, it’s so good, I think you should write it out a thousand times.’

  Immediately regretting his rebellious act, Saburo bowed and sat back down.

  ‘I trust other attempts are more appropriate for the classroom.’

  ‘Sensei?’ invited Emi, putting her hand up. ‘I think this one’s good.’

  ‘Very well, let’s hear it,’ agreed Sensei Nakamura, nodding.

  Emi passed the haiku back to its owner.

  Takuan graciously accepted it and stood. He gave a humble bow, then in a honeyed tone read:

  ‘Evening temple bell

  stopped in the sky

  by cherry blossoms.’

  There was a hushed silence as the students nodded appreciatively, then everyone started to clap.

  ‘Very perceptive,’ commended Sensei Nakamura, ‘but if it had been anything less, I would have been very disappointed.’

  Takuan appeared a little downhearted at his mother’s damning praise. He bowed and sat down.

  ‘We will continue next week. In the meantime, I expect everyone to have composed at least one more haiku.’

  The students all bowed and made their way out of the Taka-no-ma, leaving the lone Saburo to write out his poem a thousand times.

  ‘He’ll be lucky to finish before bedtime,’ observed Yamato as he slipped his sandals back on.

  ‘Serves him right for being disrespectful,’ Akiko declared.

  ‘But you have to admit, it was funny,’ replied Jack. ‘And you can’t deny he captured a moment.’

  ‘But he didn’t suggest a season!’ argued Akiko.

  ‘Does it matter what time of year you fart?’ asked Yori innocently.

  Jack and Yamato burst out laughing.

  ‘Excuse us,’ said a less-amused Akiko, beckoning Kiku to join her as Takuan emerged from the Hall of the Hawk. ‘We must congratulate Takuan on his fine haiku.’

  Takuan, despite already being surrounded by several other admirers, bowed at their approach. Jack saw that Akiko had opened her fan and was gently wafting herself with it while talking to Takuan.

  ‘How can one poem make someone so popular?’ exclaimed Jack.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ consoled Yamato as they headed towards the Hall of Butterflies for dinner. ‘I bet he can’t wield a sword like you.’

  12

  TWO HEAVENS

  ‘Masamoto-sama and Sensei Hosokawa are fighting!’ exclaimed a student, hurrying in the direction of the Hall of the Phoenix.

  Jack and Akiko, already heading that way for their first morning lesson in the Two Heavens, ran after her. As they neared the Hō-oh-no-ma, Masamoto’s personal dojo, Jack could hear the clash of katana. Pushing his way through the students crowded round the entrance, he could see the samurai engaged in brutal combat. To his surprise, they both wielded two swords, their katana and wakizashi flashing through the air like steel birds of prey.

  Hosokawa seemed to have the upper hand and drove Masamoto back on to the wooden dais. But Masamoto now gained a height advantage, his retreat clearly a ruse to get Hosokawa to over-commit to his attack. Masamoto retaliated with a double strike, almost cleaving in half the silk-screen painting of the flaming phoenix that hung on the rear wall. Hosokawa blocked Masamoto’s wakizashi but was caught out by the longer blade of the katana. It broke past his guard, threatening to skewer him through the heart. Only a late deflection and rapid footwork saved the sword teacher. Masamoto kept up the pressure and went in for the kill.

  ‘Did you know they once duelled for real?’ whispered a student standing beside Jack.

  The boy was familiar to Jack. Tall and handsome, with strong arms and dark eyes, Taro was known to be one of the best kenjutsu students in the school. But it was the bushy eyebrows that gave it away. Taro was Saburo’s older brother. An accomplished samurai who commanded great respect among his peers, he was everything his younger brother wished he could be.

  ‘Looks pretty serious to me,’ said Jack, staring in disbelief as Hosokawa viciously cut down at his guardian’s exposed neck.

  ‘It was serious once,’ Taro replied. ‘While on his musha shugyo, Masamoto-sama challenged Sensei Hosokawa.’

  ‘But I can’t imagine Sensei Hosokawa having ever lost a fight.’ Jack winced in sympathy as Masamoto cross-blocked the sword teacher’s katana and shoulder-barged him in the chest.

  ‘He didn’t,’ replied Taro.

  Jack’s brow wrinkled in puzzlement. ‘But I was told Masamoto-sama never lost a single fight during his entire warrior pilgrimage.’

  ‘You’re right. Their duel lasted a day and a night without rest. Eventually a town official had to step in and stop the fight. They’d wrecked two tea houses and several market stalls in the process!’

  Jack smiled at the idea. Sensei Yamada, his Zen master, had once told him Masamoto had been a fierce and independent samurai in his youth. He could just imagine the carnage these two warriors had wrought.

  ‘Their epic duel led to a mutual respect and it was deemed a draw,’ Taro explained, as Masamoto and Sensei Hosokawa stopped their fighting in the Hō-oh-no-ma and retreated to a safe distance. ‘Sensei Hosokawa eventually persuaded Masamoto-sama to teach him the Two Heavens and they became allies, founding the Niten Ichi Ryū together.’

  Sheathing their swords, the two samurai bowed to one another. A servant entered through a side door bearing a pot of sencha and two china cups. Sharing the green tea, the two samurai laughed at a private joke and toasted one another. ‘Kampai!’

  ‘Sensei Hosokawa is possibly the only samurai who can match Masamoto-sama’s skill with the sword,’ whispered Taro, as if it was blasphemy to suggest such a thing. ‘But, for honour’s sake, they have yet to finish the duel.’

  ‘Everything you’ve learned so far at the Niten Ichi Ryū was merely preparation for the Two Heavens,’ declared Masamoto to the eight students gathered before him.

  Jack was in full agreement. He felt like a novice again. Standing in the Two Heavens upper fighting stance, a wooden katana borne high in his right hand and a shorter wooden wakizashi at waist-level in his left, he struggled to keep control of his swords as he attempted the cuts Masamoto had shown them.

  He struck down at the bokken held aloft by his training partner, Sachiko. A girl from two years above with a reputation for being lightning fast with the samurai sword, she had a sharp angular face and dark hair pulled back and secured with a red ornamental hashi stick.<
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  Jack switched stance and cut down, using the wakizashi. He repeated the strikes, each time attempting to get faster and more accurate. However, the coordination required made his efforts appear clumsy and awkward. He was used to holding one sword in both hands, but the weight of two made his arms ache and his grip weak.

  ‘You may ask why two swords are better than one, when all other samurai schools teach single sword techniques,’ Masamoto lectured as he studied his students’ form. ‘Admittedly, there are situations when one sword has its advantage, but if your life is on the line, you need all your weapons to be of service. For a samurai warrior to be defeated with a sword still sheathed is a disgrace.’

  After several more attempts, Jack swapped with Sachiko to hold the bokken aloft while she practised her double cuts. Already a year into her Two Heavens training, Sachiko was more fluid with her movements and struck the bokken with greater force, each hit jarring Jack’s arm painfully in its socket.

  There were only six other students privileged enough to be taught the technique. Immediately to his right were Akiko and Kazuki who, like Jack, had conquered the Circle of Three challenges and therefore earned the right to be taught the Two Heavens early. Jack was reassured by his own progress when he saw that Kazuki was also finding the exercise tough. The next two students, Ichiro and Osamu, were more advanced. Like Sachiko, they’d been selected from the years above for their exceptional fighting skills. Having already had some training with two swords, they were striking at one another rapidly. At the end was a girl called Mizuki, whose sword partner was Taro. They attacked one another’s bokken with practised ease, not even breaking into a sweat.

  Masamoto called a halt to the practice. ‘Take up your fighting stances.’

  He then went round correcting everyone’s posture.

  ‘Put strength into the nape of your neck, Sachiko-chan.’

  He pushed down on Jack’s shoulders. ‘Keep your back straight. Don’t stick out your rear.’

  Masamoto looked Kazuki up and down. ‘Good. A very solid stance. Everyone here needs to be thinking of their body as one, like this.’

  He adjusted Akiko’s grip on her leading sword. ‘Your grasp is too loose; you should always hold the sword with the intention of cutting down your opponent.’

  ‘Ichiro-kun and Osamu-kun, you’re too close. Beware of ma-ai. Mizuki-chan, put more strength into your feet. Perfect, Taro-kun, but ensure you’re employing metsuke.’

  Masamoto noticed the confused look on Jack’s face.

  ‘Ma-ai is the distance between you and your opponent. Metsuke means “looking at a faraway mountain”. You should already be familiar with this second concept, Jack-kun. I believe Sensei Kano has taught you the principles of the Mugan Ryū, his School of No Eyes. This is similar. It’s the ability to see everything at once without focusing on one particular object. You should be aware of your opponent’s sword, yet at the same time not be looking at it.’

  Jack nodded his understanding. Sensei Kano, their blind bōjutsu master, had spent most of the previous year teaching him not to rely on his sight during combat. This unusual skill had saved his life on two separate occasions, once against Kazuki, and the other time in a fight with Dragon Eye and his female assassin Sasori.

  Eventually satisfied with his students’ stances, Masamoto continued the lesson. ‘Let me show you the advantage of holding a sword with just one hand.’

  Masamoto drew his blade so fast, the air whistled. He stopped short of Jack’s throat. Jack gave an involuntary gasp. Kazuki smirked and Jack silently cursed himself for showing weakness in front of the class.

  ‘When you hold a katana with both hands, it’s more difficult to move freely to your left or right and you have less reach with your blade.’

  Masamoto now grasped the sword with both hands to show the difference in range. Jack breathed a quiet sigh of relief as the razor-sharp tip drew back from his Adam’s apple.

  ‘By fighting with two swords, you’ll overcome the limitations of single sword fighting,’ Masamoto explained, resheathing his katana. ‘I’ll demonstrate a basic Two Heavens technique with Sensei Hosokawa.’

  He turned to the swordmaster, who’d been observing the lesson from the dais. Hosokawa bowed and stepped forward. He drew his katana and Masamoto unsheathed both his swords. A split second later, Hosokawa attacked, his blade arcing towards Masamoto’s head. Masamoto blocked the cut with his wakizashi, simultaneously stepping to one side and thrusting his longer katana at Hosokawa’s throat.

  It was over in an instant. If it had been a real fight, the swordmaster would now be choking to death on his own blood, his neck impaled by the hard steel tip of the blade.

  Hosokawa retreated to a safe distance.

  ‘As you’ve just seen, the Two Heavens style is uncomplicated,’ Masamoto explained, resheathing his swords and bowing to Sensei Hosokawa. ‘There are no flamboyant or exaggerated movements. Targeting is precise, and distance and timing are tight, with no wasted movement. I compare the Two Heavens sword style to water, fluid and pure.’

  The students were now given the opportunity to try the ‘parry and strike’ technique themselves. Jack was paired off with Kazuki this time. He faced off against his rival. Kazuki struck with his katana and Jack managed to block it with the wakizashi, but he completely missed Kazuki’s throat with his other sword.

  Despite the apparent simplicity of the technique, Jack discovered the Two Heavens was like trying to pat his head and rub his stomach at the same time. It required intense concentration and coordination.

  He tried again, this time focusing on his attack. The tip of his katana found its target, but he completely forgot about blocking. His head was almost knocked off his shoulders as Kazuki’s wooden katana smashed into his ear.

  ‘Careful!’ exclaimed Jack, clasping his battered ear.

  Kazuki shrugged unapologetically. ‘You should have blocked it.’

  ‘And you should have controlled your strike, Kazuki-kun,’ observed Masamoto from the other end of the dojo.

  ‘Yes, Sensei. Sorry, I’m not used to holding two swords,’ replied Kazuki by way of an excuse. ‘My apologies, Jack.’

  He inclined his head respectfully to Jack. But the sly grin on his face told Jack that Kazuki was more skilled than he let on – and far from sorry.

  Jack couldn’t wait for this evening when Yamato would wipe that smile off his face.

  13

  KNOCKDOWN

  ‘I wasn’t expecting an audience!’ muttered Yamato as he limbered up for the match. ‘How did everyone find out?’

  ‘I may have told a couple of friends,’ admitted Saburo sheepishly.

  ‘A couple! It’s more like the entire school’s here.’

  A buzz of excited chatter filled the air as groups of students crowded along the edge of the central courtyard of the Enryakuji Temple. The surrounding buildings were in ruins, destroyed by the samurai general Nobunaga forty years earlier. Yet Sensei Kano still occasionally taught the students the Art of the Bō here. He said the temple was possessed with the spiritual strength of the sohei monks. Even now, a solitary monk prayed inside the broken shell of the Kompon Chu-do, keeping the Eternal Light burning as it had done for over eight hundred years. The flame could be seen flickering in the shadows, its light playing off the cracked beams and shattered stone idols of the otherwise deserted shrine.

  Outside, the rays of the evening sun filtered through the trees and transformed the fractured stone courtyard into a golden arena. Kazuki and the founding members of his Scorpion Gang were gathered at the other end, eagerly awaiting the forthcoming fight. Moriko, the fifth core member, arrived with supporters from the rival samurai school, the Yagyu Ryū. Her bleached-white face and black arrow-straight hair gave her a devilish appearance, only added to by her blood-red lips and dark raven eyes. Yet the most disturbing thing about the girl was her teeth, painted black as tar.

  Each of the gang had chosen a training weapon. Kazuki had his wooden bokken
. Goro carried a staff. Hiroto swung a surujin, the weighted ends of the rope wrapped in cloth to lessen its lethal force. Nobu held a pair of tonfa, wooden batons with handles on the side. Moriko, though, didn’t appear to have brought any weapon. But Jack knew she was devious and was probably concealing it so that Yamato wouldn’t know what to expect during the match.

  ‘Yamato, you don’t have to do this,’ said Jack as Kazuki approached. ‘Not for my sake.’

  ‘This isn’t about you any more,’ replied Yamato sternly. ‘It’s about honour and maintaining face.’

  ‘You could get seriously hurt.’

  ‘Wounds heal, broken bones mend, but my damaged reputation is far harder to fix. I need to restore my honour.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘Jack, a samurai lives and dies by his name and reputation. I’m judged differently because of my father. The fact that I’m not training in the Two Heavens is seen by everyone, including my father, as a failure. But I don’t need the Two Heavens to be a great samurai. I intend to prove myself worthy of being a Masamoto.’

  Jack knew how much Yamato desired his father’s approval. Ever since his brother had been murdered by Dragon Eye, Yamato had been living in Tenno’s shadow. Nothing he did ever seemed to match up to his older brother’s achievements, at least in Masamoto’s eyes. This match would be the ultimate test.

  ‘That is what I’m fighting for,’ stated Yamato, snatching the staff from Jack’s hand.

  Kazuki stopped and bowed to Yamato.

  ‘It appears we’ve drawn a crowd,’ he said, glancing around. ‘I hope they won’t be disappointed.’

  ‘They won’t,’ replied Yamato. ‘But you will be when I’ve finished with you.’

  Kazuki laughed. ‘If you’re that confident, perhaps we should raise the stakes a little. Give us something more than honour to fight for.’