'I still can't believe he hit you while you were bowing, Jack,' said Saburo
the following day as they relaxed in the Southern Zen Garden between
lessons. They had gathered on the wooden veranda overlooking the water
feature and standing stones. The garden was now cloaked in so much snow
that it looked like a miniature landscape of white clouds and snow-capped
mountain peaks.
Jack gave Saburo a pained smile and massaged his neck where the
bokken had struck.
'Sensei Hosokawa was the final part of the Gauntlet,' Akiko reminded
them as she played ohajiki with Kiku, flicking one coin-shaped pebble
across the ground at another, then claiming it as it was struck out of play.
'Would you bow in the middle of a fight?'
'No, but you have to admit it was rather sneaky of him.'
'Well, I still don't see why Jack got in and I didn't,' muttered Yamato,
moodily poking at the snow with his bokken. 'It's favouritism if you ask
me, just because he's gai–'
'Yamato!' exclaimed Akiko, glaring at her cousin. 'Jack got further
than any student in the history of the Gauntlet. He deserves to be entered.'
'Sorry,' said Yamato, offering Jack an apologetic smile. 'I'm still a
little sore about it all.'
Yamato pulled aside the jacket of his training gi to inspect the purple
mass of bruises spread across his right side. Jack realized he must have
been hit extremely hard during the Gauntlet. He also recognized his friend
was hurting badly from the shame of failing in the trials. Jack let the insult
go and hoped that their friendship wouldn't be ruined by the turn of events.
'I bet that hurts,' Saburo said, giving Yamato's side an explorative
prod with his finger.
'Oww!' exclaimed Yamato, shoving Saburo's hand away.
'You big baby,' teased Saburo.
'Well, see how you like it!'
Yamato began to pummel Saburo with his fists. The others laughed as
Saburo cartwheeled backwards off the veranda and into the snow.
'You forget, Saburo, I went through all that pain and training for
nothing!' yelled Yamato, jumping down and grabbing a handful of snow
before shoving it in Saburo's face.
'Leave him alone, Yamato,' chided Akiko, worried that Yamato's
anger at himself was turning nasty.
'That's easy for you to say. You and Jack are in the Circle. I'm not!'
'Don't forget… Yori,' spluttered Saburo under the continuing barrage
of blows and snow.
'That's a point. Where is Yori?' asked Kiku quickly, trying to divert
Yamato from the escalating fight.
Yamato stopped his assault. 'The ungrateful little genius is over there.'
He indicated the gnarled pine tree at the far end of the garden, its trunk
propped up by the wooden crutch.
Yori was squatting under one of its snow-shrouded branches, listlessly
pulling at the tail of an origami crane, making its wings flap. Despite their
best efforts to console him, Yori hadn't uttered a single word since the
shock announcement in the Butokuden the day before.
'Don't be such a sore loser,' said Akiko to Yamato. 'Yori hadn't
entered and didn't want to.'
'So why should he get to go? The sensei had said only five students
would be entered in the Circle. There are plenty of other students who
would give their sword arms for that extra place. And I'm one of them,'
said Yamato, releasing Saburo and dusting the snow from his kimono in
angry swipes.
'But he did pass a trial, Yamato. And I'm sorry, but you didn't.'
'I know,' admitted Yamato, slumping back down on the veranda. 'But
Yori wasn't even tested in the physical trials. How do they know he's
ready?'
'Are any of us?' said Jack.
'Well, you aren't. You were only just accepted,' Yamato was quick to
point out.
'Yes. That's why I have to take extra tuition from Sensei Kano,' added
Jack by way of an excuse.
'You'll need it.'
'You're right. I will. And I'll need your help too, if you're up for it.'
'What do you mean?' demanded Yamato, turning to face Jack.
'Sensei Kano said I needed a training partner. I was hoping it would be
you.'
Yamato deliberated before answering and Jack thought he would
refuse as a matter of pride.
'Come on. It would be like our old sparring days in Toba,' urged Jack.
Recognizing the gesture for what it was, his friend managed to muster
up a half-hearted smile. 'Thanks, Jack. Of course I will. You know I'd never
miss an opportunity to beat you up!'
Later that evening, Jack heard Yori sobbing in his room. Deciding that his
friend needed company, he knocked on his door.
'Come in,' sniffled Yori.
Jack slid back the shoji and stepped inside. There was barely enough
space for him to stand, let alone sit down, not just because the bedroom was
so small, but due to the fact that Yori's room was littered with origami
cranes. Despite this, Yori was still making more, and there was a feverish
anxiety to his labours.
Jack cleared a space and sat down beside his friend. Yori barely
acknowledged him, so Jack decided to help him in his task. After folding
his fifth crane, though, he could no longer contain his curiosity.
'Yori, why are you folding so many paper cranes? You've solved the
koan.'
'Senbazuru Orikata,' replied Yori sullenly.
'What's that?' Jack asked, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement.
'According to legend,' Yori continued, tetchy at being distracted from
his task, 'anyone who folds a thousand origami cranes will be granted their
wish by a crane.'
'Really? So what's your wish going to be?'
'Can't you guess…?'
Jack thought he could, but, since Yori was in no mood to talk, he let
the matter rest. As all conversation died, Jack stood to stretch his legs and
stepped over to the little window. He stared out over the courtyard and
gazed at the snowflakes floating through the night. If he had the patience to
fold one thousand cranes, Jack knew what he would wish for. It would be
the same wish he had asked of the Daruma Doll.
His thoughts wandered to Jess. What would his little sister be doing
now? He hoped she was getting up to have breakfast with Mrs Winters. He
didn't want to think of the alternative.
Not wanting to worsen the mood in the room with his own
melancholic thoughts, Jack returned to the task at hand. He picked up a
sheet of paper to fold yet another crane.
The pile of origami paper was soon used up, and Yori quietly thanked
him for his help and said he would get more the next day. While he couldn't
quite muster a smile, he did seem less despondent about his situation and he
had stopped crying, so Jack left and headed to bed. Sliding open the shoji to
his own room, he stopped dead in his tracks.
His bedroom had been ransacked.
The futon was unrolled and ripped open; his ceremonial kimono,
training gi and bokken lay discarded upon the floor; and the Daruma Doll
and bonsai had been knocked off the window sill, the little tree now lying
on its side, its roots exposed and earth spilt everywhere.
Jack's first thought was Kazuki. It was exactly the sort of thing he or
one of his Scorpion Gang would do. He scanned the room to see if anything
had been taken. To his relief, he found Masamoto's swords under the
ceremonial kimono and spotted his sister's drawing crumpled but intact
beneath the bonsai's pot, his inro carrying case discarded to one side. He
then looked under the futon and realized what was missing.
Jack stormed up the now deserted corridor to Kazuki's room and flung
open his shoji.
'Where is it?' accused Jack.
'Where's what?' replied an indignant Kazuki, who was in the process
of polishing a gleaming samurai sword of black and gold that his father had
presented to him upon the news of his acceptance into the Circle.
'You know exactly what I mean. Now give it back!'
Kazuki glared at Jack, his left eye still swollen and discoloured by the
bruising he had sustained during the Gauntlet. 'Get out of my room!' he
demanded. 'What sort of samurai do you think I am to steal from you? That
might be something a gaijin would do, but never a Japanese.'
Then a malicious smile spread across his face as he saw Jack's distress.
'But if you do find out who did it, remind me to thank them.'
Jack cursed. Despite Kazuki's arrogance, he seemingly had nothing to
do with the break-in. Perhaps it had been Hiroto, getting his own back for
Jack beating him in the trials. Jack glanced down the empty corridor and
froze.
Creeping out of his room was a figure dressed head-to-toe in white. It
held the leatherbound book in its grasp.
'Stop!' cried Jack.
The dark pebble eyes of the ghostly figure locked with his. It fled
down the corridor as silent as the falling snow and out of the Shishi-no-ma.
Jack flew after it. He raced past startled students, who had emerged to
see what the disturbance was, and out into the cold night air.
He spotted the figure sprinting across the courtyard and followed.
'Give it back!' Jack shouted, gaining on the intruder.
The figure reached the edge of the courtyard and launched itself at the
school walls. Jack clambered up after the thief, his hands grabbing hold of
the bottom of a white jacket. He wrenched back as hard as he could, but
was kicked in the chest for his efforts and sent sprawling into the snow.
Momentarily stunned, Jack could only watch as the intruder continued to
scale the wall with cat-like grace.
Then, without looking back, the white-clad figure disappeared into the
snowy night.