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Saigyo greeted Yori with a reassuring smile.

‘Your opening phrase is a simple dilemma:

‘ “I want to kill him,

I don’t want to kill him…” ’

Surprise registered on Yori’s face at the verse’s brutal bluntness, but Jack could see Takuan was already composing his response.

‘My friend who’s fond of frogs,’ announced Saigyo, ‘you will go first.’

Yori glanced around in panic at all the expectant faces. Jack thought he was about to bolt from the Hall of the Hawk, the pressure too much for him. But all of a sudden Yori’s face lit up as he found inspiration. He spoke his haiku so fast, his tongue almost tripped over his words:

‘Given a choice:

revenge can be sweet

but mercy greater.’

Yori breathed a sigh of relief at having managed a response.

Saigyo pursed his lips considering the haiku, then turned to Takuan. ‘What is your joining verse for the maekuzuke?’

Takuan replied without hesitation:

‘Catching the thief

and seeing his face,

it was my brother!’

Giving a noncommittal nod of the head, Saigyo gazed into the glowing coals of the hibachi as he mulled over the two verses.

‘Such a decision as this is like choosing between two types of saké. Though possessed of different flavours, they are both refreshing and potent,’ he explained, rubbing his chin. ‘Yorikun, yours resounded with the spirit of bushido, but it lacked a poetic twist. Takuan-kun, your response was as unexpected and memorable as a red rose in winter. I, therefore, declare you the winner!’

There was an excited squeal of delight from the girls, followed by enthusiastic clapping from everyone. Takuan went up to receive a scroll from Saigyo within which the poet had personally penned a haiku for him as a prize.

The competition over, Sensei Nakamura called an end to the class and ushered Saigyo towards the Hall of the Phoenix for a private audience with Masamoto-sama. Outside, the students all crowded round Takuan to congratulate him on his inspired response and well-deserved victory. Emi and Akiko were at his shoulder reading the prize haiku.

Jack spotted Yori wandering off on his own and crunched through the snow after him.

‘Are you all right?’ Jack asked tenderly, hoping his friend wasn’t too upset.

Yori turned round, a contented grin on his face.

‘Of course I am. I came second. How amazing is that?’

‘But… but you lost. Aren’t you disappointed that Takuan beat you?’

‘Why should I be? I never expected to win, let alone reach the final two. I just wanted to meet the great poet Saigyo. And he liked my frog haiku!’

‘I still don’t understand how you can’t be even a little upset that you lost,’ continued Jack, later that evening in Yori’s bedroom at the Shishi-no-ma. ‘If that was me, I’d be really disappointed.’

‘But I’m not you,’ replied Yori, setting up the little singing bowl for his nightly kiaijutsu practice. ‘If I was comparing my achievements with Takuan, then I would be a loser. But I was comparing them with my own ambition to be the best poet I can be. Therefore, I am a winner.’

Jack couldn’t argue with his friend’s wisdom, so he sat down in a corner of the room and picked through the various scraps of paper that bore the efforts of his own poetry. Having heard the other haiku during the competition, Jack felt none of his were in any way good enough to present to Akiko.

‘They’re terrible,’ he moaned. ‘Takuan’s are so much better. Perhaps I should just get him to write one for me.’

‘Stop comparing yourself to Takuan,’ admonished Yori as he began his kiai breathing exercises. ‘Akiko will appreciate your haiku more, simply because of the effort you’ve put in.’

‘Do you think so?’

Yori nodded and shouted at the singing bowl. The squeak that came out left the bowl unmoved. He grimaced in frustration and tried again.

Settling down, Jack redoubled his efforts to write a decent haiku. Once again, Yori’s insight had helped him to see things clearly. He would write a poem that meant something for him – and would mean something