The Way Of The Sword (16 page)

‘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.’

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 would 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.

Jack tried to ignore the comment, but his concentration had been thrown by the sensei’s deliberate distraction. Implanted in the back of his mind was now the thought that he wasn’t ready, that the combination of three blocks was too thick.

THUNK!

Jack’s fist collided with the wood. The first two boards broke, but the third layer of cedar held and Jack’s hand was brought to an abrupt halt, sending a sickening wave of pain up his arm.

A murmur of disappointment washed through the
dojo
.

Jack massaged his throbbing hand, infuriated at himself for allowing Sensei Kyuzo’s comment to break his concentration. It had been that sliver of doubt that had prevented the break.

He hastily bowed his respects to Masamoto, who was watching the proceedings from the ceremonial alcove with the other sensei. His guardian had returned to the school that morning for the selection trials and the journey appeared to have left him tired and irritable. His scarring was inflamed and he slowly shook his head, clearly as disappointed with Jack’s performance as Jack was with himself.

As he knelt back into line with the thirty students who’d entered the trials, Jack caught Sensei Kyuzo grinning smugly.

‘Don’t worry, Jack,’ said Akiko, who had also been defeated by
tamashiwari
. ‘We still have three more trials to prove ourselves.’

Jack was reassured by her words until Kazuki stepped up to the challenge accompanied by shouts of encouragement.

Sensei Kyuzo replaced the cracked blocks with new ones, while whispering in his protégé’s ear.

Kazuki nodded once, then focused his attention on the blocks of wood. With an unwavering look of determination, he smashed his fist through all three blocks, splintered pieces of wood flying through the air.

The school erupted in a huge cheer while Masamoto and his sensei applauded respectfully. Even Jack had to admit that the feat was impressive. Kazuki bowed smartly to Masamoto, his reputation affirmed as the first student to pass a trial.

The
dojo
was cleared and reset for Sensei Yosa’s Trial by Fire. An archery target was positioned at the far end, a tall wooden candleholder placed before it and a slim white candle fitted on top so that the wick was in line with the bullseye.

The trial participants prepared themselves at the other end of the
Butokuden
, choosing bows from the weapons rack and checking that their arrows were in good order.

Jack went to select his, but Kazuki, Hiroto and Goro pushed in front to seize the best ones. The only bow left was well-used and past its prime. Jack tested the draw strength and knew straight away that it had lost much of its power.

‘The first trial by Sensei Kyuzo tested strength,’ proclaimed Masamoto to the assembled students. ‘Strength of body and strength of mind. The next trial will be led by Sensei Yosa and will assess your skill and technical ability.’

Sensei Yosa stood and made her way to the target, her long black hair shimmering in waves down the back of her blood-red kimono. She held a burning taper in her hand, which she used to light the wick. The candle flickered into life, its flame a tiny petal of light before the bullseye.

‘Your challenge is to snuff out the candle,’ explained Sensei Yosa. ‘You will be allowed two attempts.’

‘Good luck,’ Yamato whispered to Jack.

‘I think I’ll need more than luck,’ replied Jack, glancing down at his bow.

The firing distance was equal to the length of the Southern Zen Garden, making it a difficult shot even without the additional factor of the flame.

The first to step up was Goro. Jack’s earlier annoyance over the selection of the bows was tempered by the boy’s appalling performance. A ripple of laughter broke out as one of his arrows missed the target completely and glanced off one of the pillars, narrowly missing Sensei Yosa.

Then it was Akiko’s turn.

She finished tending to the bamboo bow and hawk feather arrows that Sensei Yosa had presented to her earlier that summer. Being the only student to have her own weapon, she hadn’t needed to fight over the school’s. She lined herself up with the target, nocked an arrow on to her bowstring, then raised the weapon above her head. She did all this with an ease and elegance that was reminiscent of Sensei Yosa herself.

Akiko’s first arrow pierced the bullseye with a resounding thump like a heartbeat.

There was a moment of awed silence.

Akiko didn’t need to fire a second. Her arrow had flown so true that it had actually sliced the flame in half as the feathered flights snuffed out the candle.

The
Butokuden
was drowned in ecstatic applause.

Akiko’s performance put everyone else to shame. Each entrant filed through, firing to the best of their ability, but no one could match Akiko’s skill. Yamato struck the target both times, but missed the candle. Kazuki’s performance was more impressive, his second arrow slicing the edge of the candle and almost cutting it in half. To Jack’s relief, though, the flame stayed lit. Even Emi, who was usually on a par with Akiko, didn’t extinguish the flame, though she did get two bullseyes. Hiroto was the only one to prove the exception. His second arrow clipped the wick of the candle, snuffing the flame out.

Then it was Jack’s turn.

With Kazuki, Akiko and Hiroto having succeeded in a trial and therefore standing a good chance of being chosen to enter the Circle of Three, he was starting to feel the pressure.

He had to be chosen. He had to prove himself.

He had to learn the Two Heavens.

Drawing upon all his reserves of concentration, Jack took up position at the mark. He focused on the tiny flame at the far end of the hall, no larger than a rosebud. He drew back on his bow, moving fluidly between each movement as Akiko had instructed, and let loose his first arrow.

Jack grimaced in disappointment. It was a good hand’s width below the bullseye. The bow’s limited draw strength had thrown his aim off. He adjusted his stance to compensate. Focusing hard on the flickering light, he was about to fire his second arrow when he remembered Sensei Yosa’s words:
‘When the archer does not think about the target, then they may unfold the Way of the Bow
.’

Jack finally understood what she meant. He was so focused on the flickering candle that he hadn’t noticed his body tensing up.

He stopped thinking about the target, let his mind go and relaxed with the bow. Starting again, he gave each moment of the draw his full attention. As he breathed out, he released the arrow. It whistled down the length of the
dojo
, straight towards the centre of the flame.

It struck the bullseye.

The whole
dojo
stared at the candle, the arrow quivering slightly above it. The flame guttered briefly and some of the students began to clap, but their premature applause died as soon as the candle flared back into life.

The next moment, the arrow’s feathered flights burst into flames like a terrible omen.

Jack had failed the second trial.

Perched upon a
zabuton
at the front of the
Butokuden’
s ceremonial alcove, Sensei Yamada leant forward to listen to a petite girl with a short sweep of dark-brown hair. The girl whispering in his ear was Harumi, who, despite her size and to everyone’s astonishment, had demolished the three blocks during the Trial by Wood. Having given her answer to the Trial by
Koan
, she bowed and waited for Sensei Yamada’s verdict, her pale round face delicate as a porcelain doll’s.