On the opposite side of the street was a large rectangular building constructed out of dark cypress wood and white earthen walls, crowned with two tiers of pale-russet tiles. Jutting out from its centre was an intricately carved entranceway bearing a large phoenix kamon. Masamoto stood beneath its flaming wings, waiting for Akiko, Yamato and Jack to join him.

‘Welcome to my school, the Niten Ichi Ryū,’ said Masamoto magnanimously.

Akiko, Yamato and Jack all bowed, and Masamoto led the way into his ‘One School Of Two Heavens’.

Even before Jack had set foot inside the Butokuden, he could hear the shouts of ‘Kiai’ emanating from the dojo.

There was a sharp cry of ‘Rei’ as Masamoto entered the great hall and the entire group of trainee warriors instantaneously ceased their practice. The room became so quiet that all Jack could hear was the sound of their breathing. As one, the entire class bowed and held their bow as a mark of utmost respect.

‘Continue your training,’ commanded Masamoto.

‘ARIGATŌ GOZAIMASHITA, MASAMOTO-SAMA!’ they thundered, their salutation rolling and rebounding around the dojo.

The forty or so students returned to their various activities of kihon, kata and randori. The late afternoon sun filtering through the narrow papered windows gave an almost mystical quality to their movements. As the warriors sparred, their shadows fought in unison across the honey-coloured wood-block floor that defined their training area.

Jack was overawed. From its rounded pillars of cypress wood to the elevated panelled ceiling, and the ceremonial throne set back in a curving alcove, the Butokuden radiated an aura of supreme power. Even the students kneeling in orderly lines round the edge of the dojo exhibited complete focus and determination. This was truly a hall of warriors in the making.

Slowly, like the sound of a receding storm, the dojo fell silent again. Jack wondered who had entered this time, but with increasing alarm he realized that every student had stopped their training and was now staring at him. They met his gaze with a mixture of amazement, disbelief and open contempt at the blond-haired gaijin who had intruded upon their dojo.

Masamoto, his back turned, was conversing with a stern-looking samurai with a sharp spike of a beard.

Jack could feel the hard stares of the students impaling him like arrows.

‘Why have you stopped?’ demanded Masamoto as if unaware of Jack’s presence. ‘Continue your training.’

The students resumed their activities, though they continued to steal furtive glances in Jack’s direction.

Masamoto addressed Jack, Akiko and Yamato. ‘Come. Sensei Hosokawa will show you to your quarters. I have business to attend to, so I won’t see you again until the reception dinner tonight in the Chō-no-ma. ’