Young Samurai _ The Way Of The Dragon - Chris Bradford [30]
‘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.