Young Samurai_ The Way of the Sword - Chris Bradford [70]
‘So how do I get mushin?’
‘First you must practise your cuts many thousands of times, until you can perform them instinctively, without conscious thought or hesitation. Until your sword becomes “no sword”.’
Jack glanced at Tadashi, who quietly stood by absorbing everything that was said. He wondered if Tadashi understood this concept of ‘no sword’.
‘I don’t understand,’ Jack admitted, hoping he wouldn’t appear stupid. ‘How can my katana become “no sword”? How can it no longer exist?’
‘Your aim is to achieve unity between yourself and the sword.’
Sensei Hosokawa swiftly unsheathed his katana and held it aloft.
‘Once the sword exists only in your heart and mind,’ said Sensei Hosokawa, pressing the tip of his blade against Jack’s chest exactly where his heart lay, ‘then it becomes “no sword”. For when you strike, it isn’t you but the sword in the hand of your mind that strikes.’
Jack understood only a little of what his sensei was saying. He realized the sword master was teaching him great things, vital skills that he needed, but at the same time the sensei seemed to be tying one arm behind his back. If he was worthy of the Circle of Three and this concept of ‘no sword’ was so important, why wouldn’t Sensei Hosokawa allow him to train with a real blade?
‘But, with all respect, if you won’t let me use my katana, how can I make my sword become “no sword”?’
Sensei Hosokawa’s face suddenly became hard as stone. ‘When you begin to grasp mushin, then I will permit you to train with a sword.’
Jack grasped at this new glimmer of hope. Eager to pursue ‘no mind’ training, he asked, ‘How long will it take me to master mushin?’
‘Five years,’ replied Sensei Hosokawa.
‘That long! I can’t wait five years,’ despaired Jack. ‘What if I work really hard at it?’
‘Then you will need ten years.’
Mystified by this illogical answer, Jack asked, ‘Well, how about if I devote all my time to mushin?’
‘Then you will need twenty years.’
34
GANJITSU
The immense temple bell, the size of a mountain boulder, rang out for the one hundred and eighth time, its deep sonorous dong resonating into the night. Spirals of incense smoke swirled through the air and candles fluttered in all corners of the Buddha Hall like a heavenly constellation of stars.
Jack stood in silence with the entire school as they waited for the slow swing of the long wooden pendulum hammer to come to a rest.
‘GOOD FORTUNE FOR THE NEW YEAR!’ announced Masamoto.
Dressed in his ceremonial flame-red phoenix robes, he stood before a large bronze statue of the Buddha.
The Niten Ichi Ryū was celebrating Ganjitsu, a festival that marked the beginning of the New Year. Jack had discovered that the Japanese celebrated New Year, not on the first of January like most Western countries, but according to the Chinese calendar several weeks later in anticipation of the arrival of spring.
It had been Sensei Yamada’s honour to strike the temple bell for the final time to mark midnight, and he now knelt before the Buddha shrine in order to bestow blessings upon the school.
Robed in their finest kimono, the students formed a line that coiled round the hall like a bejewelled dragon. Jack wore the burgundy silk kimono that Akiko’s mother, Hiroko, had given him on leaving Toba. It bore Masamoto’s phoenix kamon, picked out in fine golden thread so that it caught the light every time he moved. That though was nothing compared to Akiko’s attire. She had a purple orchid in her hair and was dressed in a glorious yellow, green and blue sparkling kimono that appeared to be woven out of hundreds of butterfly wings.
‘So why was the bell tolled exactly one hundred and eight times?’ Jack asked as they waited in line to receive their first blessing of the year. The rituals of Buddhism were still bizarre to his Christian way of thinking.
Akiko didn’t respond. When Jack looked, her attention was elsewhere, her eyes far away, and her face appeared