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‘You cannot embark on a warrior pilgrimage without swords,’ she said, glancing at his unarmed hip. ‘Wait!’

As Akiko walked back to the house, Jack felt a wave of guilt at losing Masamoto’s daishō. It had also been foolish of him not to retrieve the samurai swords after his fight with Kazuki. But Akiko had been his priority.

A shoji opened and Akiko returned, bearing a katana and wakizashi.

‘Jack, you’re samurai. You must carry a daishō,’ she said, bowing and holding out the swords.

Jack was stunned by her gesture. In her hands, she held two magnificent swords with dark-red woven handles. They were sheathed within gleaming black sayas inlaid with mother of pearl.

‘I can’t take these,’ protested Jack. ‘They belonged to your father.’

‘He’d want you to have them. I want you to have them. Our family would be honoured if these swords served you on your journey.’

She bowed lower, pushing the sayas into his hands.

Reluctantly, Jack accepted the daishō. He slipped the swords into his obi. Unable to resist, he then withdrew the katana. The sun, now peeking above the horizon, caught the steel of the blade. A single name glinted in the morning light.

Shizu.

The swords had a good soul.

Resheathing the katana, Jack realized he would be forever indebted to Akiko. He wanted to give something in return, however small the gesture. Jack reached into his pack and removed the Daruma Doll.

‘This is all I have to offer you,’ he said, handing Akiko the little round doll.

‘But it contains your wish,’ she protested.

‘That’s why I want you to look after it for me,’ he replied, closing her hands round the doll. ‘You’re the only one I’d trust with my wish.’

Akiko stared back into his eyes, aware as much as Jack of their hands touching.

‘It would be an honour,’ she whispered. ‘But how will I know if it’s come true or not?’

‘When I am home, you can fill in the other eye.’

Akiko nodded, understanding that she didn’t need to ask how she would know when. She just would.

Both of them remained standing close to one another, hands wrapped round the little doll. Neither seemed to want to pull away. There was so much more that needed to be said. But Jack knew that words would never be enough. How could they express all the experiences they had shared? All the challenges they’d overcome together? All that they meant to each other.

Memories flashed through his mind.

A mysterious girl upon a headland in a blood-red kimono. Japanese lessons in the shade of a sakura tree. Stargazing in the Southern Zen Garden. Sharing the first sunrise of the year on Mount Hiei. Witnessing her conquer the waterfall in the Circle of Three. The gift of the black pearl. Her winning performance in Yabusame. Discovering she was a ninja. The moment beneath the water when she pressed her lips against his and breathed life into his lungs.

But the sea beckoned. Home and his sister were waiting for him.

If he did what his heart really desired, he knew he’d never leave.

‘I have to go,’ said Jack, pulling away. ‘I must get a head start.’

‘Yes,’ Akiko replied, breathless and slightly flustered. ‘You are right to travel by foot. A horse will draw too much attention. Don’t trust anyone and keep off the main roads.’

Jack nodded, undid the gate latch and went through on to the dirt road that swept round the bowl of the valley, weaving though countless paddy fields before disappearing over the rise in the direction of Nagasaki.

Before he could change his mind, Jack turned to head down the road.

Then stopped.

‘Yori would never forgive me if I didn’t give you this,’ he said, reaching for a slip of paper in the fold of his obi.

‘What is it?’ asked Akiko.

‘A haiku.’

‘You wrote one for me!’ she said in astonishment.

‘It’s about sharing a moment… forever,’ replied Jack.

Before Akiko could open the paper, he turned and walked away.

He’d reached the bend in the road before he heard her call his name.

Akiko stood, her back to the rising sun. She appeared to wipe a tear