‘Sometimes what you seek is right in front of your eyes,’ the monk replied, lifting the hat from his face.

Dumbstruck, Jack and Saburo could only stare open-mouthed at the little monk with bright eyes and a smooth shaven head.

‘B-b-but you’re supposed to be at the Tendai Temple in Iga Ueno … with Sensei Yamada,’ Jack finally managed to gasp.

‘And you’re supposed to be on a ship bound for England,’ replied Yori.

Back at the storehouse, Neko brewed a pot of sencha while Jack, Saburo and Yori caught up on each other’s news. Yori couldn’t believe all the trials and tribulations Jack had suffered; and Saburo was stunned to learn of Yori’s gruesome escape from the Red Devils at the Battle of Osaka Castle. All three of them mourned the tragic closure of their school, but Jack and Yori were pleased to learn from Saburo that Sensei Kano, their blind bōjutsu master, had safely returned the surviving young samurai to Kyoto before going into hiding himself. To Jack’s disappointment, there was no further word of his guardian Masamoto’s fate, following his banishment to a remote temple on Mount Iawo. But sorrow turned to laughter when Yori learnt of Saburo’s uneventful musha shugyō.

‘No point taking unnecessary risks!’ explained Saburo, archly raising his eyebrows. ‘What brings you to Okayama anyway?’

‘Sensei Yamada sent me on a pilgrimage too,’ replied Yori. ‘But a religious one.’

‘Is Sensei Yamada here?’ Jack asked, eager to see the Zen philosophy master who’d been his closest mentor at the Niten Ichi Ryū.

Shaking his head, Yori gave a sad smile. ‘I think something died in him during that last battle in Osaka. Sensei Yamada’s been teaching me everything he knows, as if he expects to depart this world soon.’

Jack and Saburo exchanged worried glances.

‘Then why aren’t you with him now?’ asked Saburo.

‘Life is the greatest teacher, he told me. That’s why he sent me on this pilgrimage, asking that I deliver a message to an old friend at the Okayama Temple.’

Neko, a steaming teapot in hand, approached the raised platform with deference and poured out three cups of sencha. Saburo raised his cup in a toast.

‘To the Niten Ichi Ryū!’ he said, hoping to lift their spirits.

‘To friends!’ said Jack, still reeling from the fortuity of meeting both Saburo and Yori but overwhelmingly grateful to have them once more at his side.

‘To friends, gone but not forgotten,’ agreed Yori, his eyes reddening with tears.

The reunited young samurai drank in their friends’ honour. A moment of respectful silence settled between them, Saburo choking up at the memory of his brave brother Taro, and Jack mourning the loss of Yamato, who’d sacrificed himself to save him and Akiko from the ninja Dragon Eye.