'CALL YOURSELF A SAMURAI!'
Masamoto could no longer contain his wrath.
He had kept a cool head when they discovered Jack and the others in
the reception room. He had calmly organized a search party for Dokugan
Ryu as well as extra protection for the daimyo. He had held back while
arranging the students' safe return to the Niten Ichi Ryū. He had even
maintained his composure while Jack had explained the reason for hiding
the rutter in the daimyo's castle.
But now he bellowed at Jack, who lay prostrate on the floor of the Hall
of the Phoenix. Jack quivered with every forceful word Masamoto uttered,
each one cutting as sharp as a katana blade.
'You sacrificed your friends, violated my trust and above all
endangered the daimyo's life, all for the sake of your father's rutter!'
Masamoto glared at Jack, fuming with pent-up anger, seemingly
unable to express the fury he felt. With each passing moment of raging
silence, the scars on Masamoto's face grew redder and redder.
'I could forgive you for the lie, but how can I overlook this? You made
the daimyo's castle a target for ninja!' he said, almost in a whisper, as if he
was scared the violence in his voice would lead to violence in his hands. 'I
thought you understood what it meant to be samurai. Your duty is to me and
your daimyo. You've broken the code of bushido! Where was your loyalty?
Where was your respect? Had I not proven by my guardianship that you
could trust me?'
Masamoto had tears in his eyes. The idea that Jack couldn't trust him,
and might not respect him, seemed to disappoint the great samurai the most.
'OUT OF MY SIGHT!'
Jack sat upon the bough of the old pine tree in the corner of the Nanzenniwa. Hidden in darkness, he kicked despondently at the tree's wooden
crutch, lashing out harder and harder until the branches shook.
He looked up at the night sky, wishing it would swallow him up, but
the stars gave him no comfort either. They just reminded him of how lonely
and lost he was. The tide was turning in Japan and foreigners like him were
no longer welcome. Not only was he being alienated by the country he lived
in, but he had estranged himself from his only protector. He had turned
Masamoto against him.
He had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
Dragon Eye had finally got his hands on his father's rutter.
Jack cursed his stupidity. His failure.
He had failed his father's memory, for the rutter was no longer his.
He had failed his little Jess, for he had lost their only heirloom, the one
thing that could help him return home and secure their future.
He had failed his friends, for he'd proved incapable of protecting them.
Jack had lost everything most precious to him.
With his head in his hands, sobs wracking his whole body, Jack
wondered whether he should leave the school now, or wait until the
morning.
'All is not lost, young samurai. Don't despair.'
Jack glanced up, still weeping. He hadn't even heard the old man
approach.
Sensei Yamada leant upon his walking stick, gazing at Jack with
concerned affection while pensively twirling the tip of his long wispy beard
around one bony finger.
'A storm in the night, that's all,' he said, the gentle kindness in his
voice seeking to allay some of Jack's grief. 'In time, his anger will pass and
he will see you for the samurai you are. All will be forgiven.'
'How can that be? I've betrayed him,' lamented Jack, the words
cutting so deep into his heart he swore they drew blood. 'I've disrespected
him. Broken his trust. Gone against the very bushido spirit he lives by.'
'Jack-kun, you breathe bushido.'
The old Zen master laid a hand upon Jack's arm and patted it lightly.
'Come with me,' he said, guiding Jack out from the darkness of the pine
tree and into the pale light of the waxing moon. 'A walk will clear your
mind.'
Jack followed blindly by his side as if he were a ghost, not really there,
but listening nonetheless to the counsel of his sensei.
'I cannot condone your lying to Masamoto-sama about the rutter, but
you've proved your honesty by confessing of your own free will,' began the
Zen master, flicking a stone from the path with his stick. 'It was unfortunate
that you chose the castle in which to hide your precious logbook. You
hadn't thought through the consequences of that decision properly.'
Jack solemnly shook his head.
'However, I'm perfectly aware that your decision to put it in the castle
was not done out of malice or with the intention of harming the daimyo.
Your loyalty to your guardian and your respect for his life led you to believe
that the lie was safer than the truth, and the castle more secure than the
school. However misguided your intentions, you were trying to protect him,
to do your duty. This is what Masamoto-sama will undoubtedly come to
realize.'
As they reached one of the larger standing stones in the garden, Sensei
Yamada rubbed its smooth surface.
'You are headstrong like this rock, Jack-kun. Your boldness in your
plans and belief in your ability to deal with problems by yourself is
reminiscent of Masamoto-sama's own youth. He too was a fiercely
independent spirit.'
Sensei Yamada gave Jack a hard look, which Jack found difficult to
meet.
'This is why his emotions are so strong. Masamoto-sama sees himself
in you. He's not angry. He's afraid. Afraid that he will lose another son to
that demon Dokugan Ryu.'
Sensei Yamada led Jack out of the garden and across the deserted
courtyard of the Niten Ichi Ryū. Each pebble reflected the moonlight,
transforming the square into a great ocean that appeared to ripple as they
drifted across its surface towards the Buddha Hall.
'You believe you broke the code of bushido?'
Jack nodded his head, too upset to speak.
'Well, you are wrong. What you accomplished tonight, and in every
previous encounter with that ninja, proves you are a samurai beyond all
doubt. Your courage in the face of such danger can only be applauded. The
benevolence you show to others, alongside the compassion you have for
your friends, is what binds you together, protects you. It is what keeps you
fighting against all the odds. This is a truly honourable principle. The very
essence of bushido.'
They began to ascend the stone steps of the Buddha Hall, and Jack felt
heartened by his sensei's wisdom, each step he took seeming to atone for
another of his failings.
'You have always done what you thought was right. This is the first
virtue of bushido, rectitude. The goodness in your heart is the one thing
Dokugan Ryu can never take from you. As long as you possess this, he can
never win.'
'But I've made an unforgivable mistake,' protested Jack, 'and I can't
take it back.'
'There's no such thing as a mistake, young samurai.'
Sensei Yamada ushered Jack inside the Butsuden. The great bronze
Buddha sat silent in prayer, surrounded by a ring of flickering candles and
the tiny red glowing tips of burning incense sticks. The temple bell hung
motionless above the Buddha's head like an ethereal crown, and Jack
wondered whether one hundred and eight chimes would ever be enough to
absolve him of his sins in the Buddha's eyes. First, though, he had to
answer to his own God.
'Mistakes are our teachers,' explained Sensei Yamada, bowing before
the Buddha. 'As long as you recognize them for what they are, they can
help you learn about life. Each mistake teaches you something new about
yourself. There is no failure, remember, except in no longer trying. It is the
courage to continue that counts.'
Jack bowed and, in his despair, prayed for both Buddha's and God's
blessing.
Sensei Yamada motioned for Jack to enter a side room of the Butsuden.
'You may see her now.'
The small room was aglow with candles. Jack bowed his head and entered
alone, the richly aromatic smell of white sage and frankincense wafting in
the air around him.
Akiko lay upon a thick futon, dressed in a fine silk kimono of cream
and gold, delicately embroidered with pale-green bamboo shoots.
Jack approached quietly and knelt by her side.
She looked to be asleep. He took her hand gently in his. It felt cool to
the touch.
'So your first dream did foretell our fortunes,' she whispered, her
voice hoarse but resilient.
'You're lucky to be alive,' Jack replied, squeezing her hand
affectionately.
'Mount Fuji, a hawk and the leaf of a nasu,' she laughed weakly.
'Sensei Yamada was right, they brought us all the luck in the world. What
more could we have asked for?'
An explanation, thought Jack, but he let it pass. Now wasn't the time to
ask about her miraculous survival.
Jack had overheard Sensei Yamada and Sensei Kano, as they laid her
in the Buddha Hall to recover in peace, discussing dokujutsu, the ninja Art
of Poison. The two sensei had both agreed that someone had helped her to
build a tolerance against ninja poisons. Jack suspected the monk from the
Temple of the Peaceful Dragon was responsible. He recalled how Akiko
had appeared ill at New Year. She had told Kiku that it was something she'd
drunk and then had gone straight to the monk for help. Had her condition
been caused by trying to build up a resistance to such poisons? Akiko had a
lot to explain, but for now Jack was just glad she was alive.
'I'm so sorry, Akiko. I should've listened to you. Whatever Sensei
Yamada says, I made a stupid mistake in not –'
'Jack, it wasn't your fault,' she interrupted, softly putting a finger to
his lips. 'The only mistake was Dragon Eye's – he let you live.'
Akiko beckoned Jack closer, drawing his face towards hers.
Their cheeks touched and Jack felt her warm breath grace his skin. For
that brief moment he experienced total peace, safe within her arms.
Whispering in his ear, Akiko said, 'You have to get back the rutter.
You must follow the Way of the Dragon.'