The Way Of The Dragon (21 page)

‘Glowing coals

melt away the icicles –

Ah! I have hands.’

A serene smile spread across the poet’s face at his composition, and so light and feathery was his voice the
haiku
seemed to float on the air.

Sensei Nakamura initiated a polite round of applause, which quickly spread throughout the hall. The clapping was enthusiastic, mostly because it provided an opportunity for the students to warm their own numb hands.

‘We shall commence the
kukai
,’ said Sensei Nakamura with solemn ceremony. ‘Those who consider they have a
haiku
of merit may step forward. Each of you in turn will present your poem to our esteemed guest. Saigyo-san will deliver his verdict and announce the winner once all the
haiku
have been heard.’

Several students rose to their feet and began to form an orderly line down one side of the hall.

‘Are you coming up, Jack?’ asked Saburo, wielding a crumpled piece of paper in his hand.

‘You must be joking,’ replied Jack. ‘You know what Sensei Nakamura thinks of my efforts.’

Saburo laughed. ‘Well, wish me luck. I think you’ll like mine!’

As Saburo eagerly joined the queue, Yori crept past.

‘Good luck!’ whispered Jack.

‘Thanks,’ replied Yori in nervous excitement and joined the queue.

‘Let the first poet deliver their
haiku
,’ announced Saigyo, rubbing his thighs in eager anticipation. ‘May it be a drop of dew in an autumn pond.’

Sensei Nakamura beckoned Akiko forward. Bowing low in respect, she took her
haiku
out of the pocket sleeve of her kimono. Jack thought Akiko looked even more anxious than when she’d shot the arrow at Sensei Kyuzo.

‘Winter was my inspiration,’ she began.

‘The purple iris

beneath the white blanket sleeps –

there sprouts hope!’

Having read her
haiku
, Akiko bowed again and awaited the poet’s verdict. Saigyo took a deep breath and gazed out of the window at the falling snowflakes. Akiko glanced in Jack’s direction, her brow furrowing in concern at the poet’s lack of response. Jack smiled back, trying to comfort her, then realized she was looking past him to the end of the
haiku
line where Takuan was nodding his head earnestly. Akiko seemed reassured. Jack felt a pang of envy at the exchange.

‘Like spring, your
haiku
is fresh, clear and promises much,’ spoke Saigyo eventually, much to Akiko’s relief. ‘Yet will it be the best blossom of the day? We shall see.’

He gave Akiko a polite clap, then beckoned the next contestant over. Akiko sat back down as Emi took her place before the poet. Saigyo listened attentively before giving an equally profound response to her poem. Two more
haiku
were heard. Then it was Saburo’s turn.

‘This one is about love,’ he declared.

‘ “She may have only one eye

but it’s a pretty one,”

says the go-between.’

A burst of laughter broke from the class. Jack grinned at his friend’s humorous verse, while Akiko rolled her eyes in despair. The amusement was silenced by a stern look from Sensei Nakamura.

‘
That
was not an appropriate entry,’ she fumed, wiping the smile from Saburo’s face.

‘Sensei,’ interrupted Saigyo gently, ‘the verse may have been somewhat coarse, but our young poet here is certainly novel. His entry amused me. Like a plant needs sun as much as rain, so a poet needs laughter as much as tears.’

Sensei Nakamura inclined her head in acknowledgement of his judgement. Saburo returned to his place beside Jack.

‘You’ll be writing that one out
two
thousand times, at least!’ hissed Akiko over her shoulder.

Saburo grinned as if he didn’t care.

Jack gave his friend a wink. ‘I thought it was great.’

The following entries proved to be less inspiring and, at one point, Jack thought the old poet had gone to sleep. Then Yori shuffled up. He nervously flattened the piece of paper in his hands and, in a voice so soft even Saigyo had to lean forward to hear it, he said:

‘Squatting by the tree

an old frog observes the faces

hidden in the clouds.’

The poet’s face lit up like the dawn, his sleepy eyes bursting awake. ‘Why, that’s a
haiku
worth waiting for! My favourite topic is frogs!’

Yori bowed and guiltily whispered, ‘I’ve always admired your
haiku
about the frog jumping into the old pond. I wished to write one like it.’

‘And so you have,’ said Saigyo, beaming at him. ‘You have spirit, little poet. And so does your
haiku
.’

Yori, looking relieved, sat back down next to Jack.

‘Well done,’ said Jack, patting him on the back. ‘You’ve won.’

Emi leant forward and hissed, ‘Takuan has yet to read his
haiku
!’

Takuan bowed to Saigyo and in a clear, confident voice recited:

‘Temple bell

a cloud of cherry blossom

Heaven? ‘Hanami?’

Emi applauded loudly and the rest of the class soon joined in.

Saigyo nodded appreciatively, a deeply satisfied smile on his face. ‘Your style is pure like white jade. Without ornament, without carving, you get straight to the heart of the moment. This is
haiku
at its finest.’

Takuan bowed his gratitude at the poet’s praise and returned to his place next to Emi. Sensei Nakamura’s characteristically sombre expression softened for a moment as she glowed with pride at her son’s achievement.

A growing sense of excitement filled the room while Saigyo conferred with Sensei Nakamura. A few moments later, Sensei Nakamura turned to the class.

‘Saigyo-san has deemed the winner to be…’

‘... impossible to decide,’ Sensei Nakamura announced.

‘Like peas in a pod, we have two poets of equal worth,’ explained Saigyo.

The hall was instantly abuzz with excited chatter as to who could be the most likely
haiku
candidates. Jack hoped Yori was one of them. It was just the sort of confidence boost his friend needed.

Once the news of a draw had sunk in, Saigyo continued ‘I propose a
maekuzuke
between the two best entrants.’

The class sat rigid, no longer from cold but with anticipation.

Sensei Nakamura stepped forward to explain the rules.

‘Our honoured guest will provide a short two-line verse to which the participants must add a
haiku
of their own, and so form a complete
tanka
poem. The joining verse will be judged on its originality and relevance to the given phrase. The participants must compose their contribution on the spot.’

The difficulty of the challenge triggered an astonished gasp from the students.

‘Yori-kun and Takuan-kun, step forward.’

Yori froze, looking startled as a rabbit caught out in the open.

Jack whispered, ‘Don’t worry. You’re a natural with words.’

Takuan jumped up and strode to the front. The class waited patiently while Yori, finding his feet, reluctantly joined him.

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 to Akiko. She had given him a black pearl. He saw this
haiku
as his personal gift to her.

‘Have you heard the announcement?’ said Saburo, bursting into the room.

Jack and Yori shook their heads.

‘Akiko, Emi and Takuan have been selected as the riders to represent our school at the forthcoming
Yabusame
competition.’

‘Great,’ mumbled Jack to himself, putting down his writing brush. ‘Takuan will be spending even
more
time with Akiko.’

‘I don’t know what you’re complaining about,’ retorted Saburo, suddenly defensive. ‘You spend most of your time training with my brother!’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You should hear yourself at breakfast. Taro this. Taro that. I’m sick to death of hearing about how great he is!’

‘Sorry,’ said Jack, shocked by his friend’s sudden outburst. ‘I didn’t know you were… jealous.’

Saburo gave a tired shake of the head. ‘My apologies, Jack. It’s what I have to put up with from my parents.
Taro’s done this and he’s achieved that. When are you going to do something worthy of a samurai, Saburo?
I’m tired of having to measure up to my brother all the time.’

‘You shouldn’t worry about that. You need to stop comparing yourself to your brother and have your own ambitions,’ said Jack. He spotted Yori silently laughing at hearing his own advice being repeated. ‘Taro may be skilful with two swords but, if I’m honest, he can be a bit dull. It’s all he ever goes on about. He’s not funny like you.’

‘Thanks’ said Saburo, the smile returning to his face as he picked up a discarded
haiku
. ‘What’s this? I thought you hated writing
haiku
.’

‘Give it back!’ said Jack, panicking that Saburo might read the poem and guess it was for Akiko.

He snatched the paper from Saburo’s hands, pushing his friend out of the way so he could gather up the rest of the
haiku
. Saburo stumbled backwards, accidently stamping on Yori’s foot in the process. Yori let out a sharp cry.

The singing bowl pinged.

Jack and Saburo stared in amazement at Yori and then at the bowl.

‘I did it,’ whispered Yori in awe of himself. ‘I really did it.’

‘It’s certainly a hive of warrior activity in here,’ commented Kazuki, poking his head through the doorway. ‘Are we in the girls’ corridor? Squabbles, poetry and a
kiai
only a moth would be scared of. We’d better watch out, boys, they’ll be asking us to join their flower-arranging class next!’