Young Samurai_ The Way of the Sword - Chris Bradford [17]
Kazuki released the choke and air flooded back into Jack’s lungs.
Jack gulped it down like water. The instant the oxygen hit his brain, Jack’s fury exploded with a vengeance. On survival instinct alone, he drove his fist squarely into Kazuki’s face. The punch connected and sent his enemy flying backwards.
‘YAME!’ bellowed Sensei Kyuzo, dragging Jack to his feet by the scruff of his gi.
His thumb sought out a pressure point in Jack’s neck and the sensei pressed down hard. Jack’s body was instantly paralysed with pain. He hung there like a rag doll. To the students, Jack merely appeared exhausted from the randori. For Jack, it was as if Sensei Kyuzo had inserted a molten iron rod into his spine.
‘What did I say?’ breathed Sensei Kyuzo into Jack’s face with hardened contempt. ‘Nage waza and katame waza only. Since when was punching part of grappling technique?’
‘Since when… was murder… encouraged during randori?’ replied Jack through clenched teeth as he fought against the spasms of pain.
Kazuki lay in the centre of the dojo, nursing a split lip, his gi stained in bright red patches with his own blood.
‘You have much to learn,’ said Sensei Kyuzo, ‘the first principle being fudoshin. You’re clearly too unbalanced to be samurai!’
Jack was dumbfounded, not only by the agony Sensei Kyuzo was inflicting upon him, but by the injustice of it all.
‘As punishment for your lack of self-control,’ announced Sensei Kyuzo so that the whole class could hear, ‘you will return here at dinner and polish every single woodblock in this dojo. And you will not go to bed until you have finished. Do you understand?’
‘But, Sensei, I have to go to tea with daimyo Takatomi tonight.’
Sensei Kyuzo fumed at Jack, knowing he couldn’t force him to miss such an important appointment. ‘Tomorrow night then!’
‘Hai, Sensei,’ replied Jack grimly.
The sensei leant forward, screwing his thumb further into Jack’s pressure point and sending another excruciating wave of pain through him. He bent down to whisper in his ear, ‘I don’t know how you got your name on the submission for the Circle of Three, but, mark my words, I will personally ensure that you’re not selected during the trials.’
9
FUDOSHIN
‘What’s fudoshin anyway?’ groaned Jack, rubbing his tender neck as he and his small group of friends wound their way through the streets of Kyoto after lunch.
‘I’m not sure,’ admitted Yamato.
Jack looked to the others for an answer, but Akiko mutely shook her head, appearing to be equally baffled. Saburo stroked his chin in contemplation, but he clearly hadn’t a clue either, for he quickly went back to munching on his yakatori, the stick of grilled chicken he’d just bought from a passing street vendor.
‘It means “immovable spirit”,’ said Kiku.
Yori, who was trailing beside her, nodded in agreement as if that explained everything.
‘But what does it mean to have an “immovable spirit”?’ asked Jack.
‘My father said fudoshin is about taking control of your emotions,’ replied Kiku. ‘A samurai must remain calm at all times – even in the face of danger.’
‘So how do you get fudoshin?’
‘I don’t know… My father’s good at explaining things, but not at teaching them.’
Kiku gave Jack an apologetic smile, then Yori piped up, ‘I think fudoshin is a bit like being a willow tree.’
‘A willow tree?’ Jack repeated, his eyebrows wrinkling in puzzlement.
‘Yes, like a willow tree you must grow deep roots into the ground to weather the storm, but also be soft and yielding against the winds that blow through.’
‘That’s easier said than done!’ laughed Jack. ‘You try keeping calm when you’re being strangled and getting told that foreigners are being burnt alive – and that you’re next!’
‘You shouldn’t listen to Kazuki, Jack,’ said Akiko, sighing with concern. ‘He’s just making up stories to scare you.’
‘Sorry,’ interrupted Saburo, a sheepish look on his face as he swallowed his last bit of chicken, ‘but Kazuki’s right.’
All eyes fell upon