Page 5
CHAPTER FOUR
Ryuichi groaned as he landed flat on his back. So much for learning to stand his ground.
More like he was learning to get his butt kicked.
Leaning against the spear he’d just used to trip him, Kato smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. You’re supposed to be doing your best. I only wish I were a better opponent for you. I feel bad that I’m not helping you to improve.”
Kato’s smile widened. “That’s okay. What you’re doing for my confidence is immeasurable.”
Awesome . Ryuichi snorted. “So long as I serve some purpose, I’ll tolerate the bruises. Both inside and out.” He retrieved his spear from the ground and sighed. This was beginning to feel much too familiar.
All he was learning to do was fall down creatively.
And without whining.
Much.
He watched as Kato twirled the bamboo spear effortlessly around his body.
“How do you make that look so easy?”
Kato paused, then shrugged. “Don’t know. Just do it. Kind of like breathing.”
Ryuichi looked around at the others as they sparred. They all appeared to be having an easier time of it than he did. And here he’d thought this was something he was actually good at.
Maybe I don’t belong here . Maybe Hattori had been wrong about him.
After all, he’d never belonged anywhere. Never been like anyone else. Why should this place be any different?
Ryuichi took a chance and cleared his throat. “May I ask you something personal?”
“I guess.”
He hesitated, as he knew the question was rude and that manners dictated he not ask, but he really wanted an answer. “Does it bother you?”
Kato raised his eyebrows. “What? Kicking your butt? No.”
Ryuichi laughed, then braced himself. “Not that. Being different from everyone else.”
This time, he saw the darkness gathering in Kato’s green eyes. The pain and hurt. “What do you want me to say, Ryuichi?”
“That you feel what I do... alone.” Because Ryuichi at least appeared to fit in with the others. It was only after they asked questions he didn’t want to answer that they learned he wasn’t the same as them.
With Kato’s red hair and freckled skin, he was obviously not like other students.
Kato snorted. “Trust me. As alone as you think you feel, it’s nothing compared to being foreign. You can always make up a name, and no one will know anything about you. I can’t hide who and what I am any more than Pim can.” He scanned the people around them. “We don’t exactly blend in with the scenery.”
The nail that stands out is hammered down.
“Oda Nobunaga has never been like anyone else. Instead of embracing tradition, he turns his back on it.” Such as promoting Kato’s and Pim’s fathers when no other daimyō would have. Others might have allowed them to serve, but they would never have been honored. “Nobunaga was hated by his own family—so much so that even his adviser committed seppuku to protest his rise to power over the Odas. You know it’s bad when your head adviser would rather kill himself than serve you.”
Kato smirked. “What do you think happened to my father? And why do you think I’m here?”
Ryuichi wasn’t sure what he meant. “Pardon?”
“My father’s first two advisers did the same thing to protest having to serve him. He lives in constant fear that my mother will not only take her own life but the lives of me and my brothers. Even though my mother loves him and us—and would never do such a thing—he cannot make himself trust her. There’s nothing she can say or do to take away his fear. Because of his fear of her harming us, we’ve all been sent to separate schools, far away from home.”
He felt for his newfound friend. How sad to be forced from home because one parent didn’t trust the other.
And why?
Because he was different? Why should that matter?
Nobunaga believed those differences should be your strength, not your weakness. Let go of hatred and turn it into something useful. Pain only makes you stronger if you grow from it.
That was why he wanted to be more like Nobunaga. To become more than what others thought he was. To prove to the world that he was honorable.
Worthy.
“I’m sorry, Kato. There’s wisdom in your words. It’s just not that easy to let things go.”
Kato shrugged with a nonchalance that Ryuichi was pretty sure he didn’t feel. “It’s all right. We all have pain to bear. It just wears different faces and attacks us in different places. The past is like a shadow. It’ll always be a part of us, but we control the shape it takes. At least that’s what my father says.”
Before Ryuichi could respond, he realized someone was coming up behind him. He whirled, weapon raised.
Takara stood there, frozen. “How do you do that?”
Ryuichi arched a brow. “Do what?”
“Know whenever someone’s behind you? It’s so eerie.”
Now he understood what Kato had meant before, about his spear work. Some things were just natural. “No idea. It’s like breathing. I just know.”
“Wish you could teach it to me. It’d save me so much pain from Mikito.”
Just as it had saved Ryuichi much pain from other boys over the years.
“Hai!”
Ryuichi paused at the fierce sound. In fact, everyone did.
Like thunder, the handful of Black Tortoise students rushed onto the field with astounding synchronicity. They moved like water. Fluid. Graceful.
And with force.
Mesmerized, he couldn’t take his eyes off them.
No wonder Mikito had spoken so reverently about their skills. “They’re incredible.”
Takara nodded. “And well they know it. Somehow they missed the humility part of their lessons.”
He couldn’t slight them on that. If he could spar while walking, like they were doing, he’d be arrogant too.
The tallest of them brushed past Kato with a hateful grimace. “Clear the area.”
Kato bristled. “It’s our time to practice.”
“Not anymore.” He grabbed Kato’s bamboo spear. Carelessly, he slung it backward, driving the tip toward Ryuichi’s face.
Acting on pure instinct, Ryuichi deflected it and swept his own staff around until he disarmed the boy.
His nostrils flaring, he turned on Ryuichi with a hiss. “What was that?”
Ryuichi sputtered.
Now I have skills? Seriously?
He’d been losing all day to Kato, but with this arrogant jerk, he suddenly remembered how to disarm someone.
Great . The boy hit him square in the chest with an open palm. “You trying to embarrass me?”
“No.” Definitely not.
“That’s right. You know better.” When the Black Tortoise moved to slap him, Ryuichi caught his wrist. Normally, he’d have let it go, but this was a new school.
A new day.
And he was done being slapped and laughed at by arrogant scum who thought they were better than him. “I’m not your practice dummy.”
More anger flared in the boy’s dark eyes. “Who are you?”
For the first time in his life, he lifted his chin with a newfound dignity. “Mahōtsukai Ryuichi.”
The boy laughed in his face. “Your real name.”
Heat scalded his cheeks as that all-too-familiar shame rose up inside him and began to shake his confidence.
I’m no one. Nothing.
Yesterday that would have sent him fleeing. But as he looked around at the faces of his newfound family, he refused to cower.
“I am Mahōtsukai Ryuichi.” He took a step forward and boldly met the boy’s gaze. “And I will not be embarrassed by you.”
Laughter rang out from the other Black Tortoises. “Teach him some manners, Toshi.”
Before Ryuichi knew it, all the other students had formed a circle around the two of them.
That familiar dread welled up inside him; he knew exactly what was coming.
Ryuichi gripped his practice spear and prepared himself for a duel to the laughter of the small Black Tortoise group and the other students.
Toshi sneered. “Everyone, look! The reject thinks he’s a samurai.”
Another round of laughter rang in his ears, filling him with the pain that had become a second part of him.
Two more Black Tortoise students stepped out from the crowd and joined Toshi.
Ryuichi grimaced at them ganging up on him. “Are you afraid of a challenge? Am I so threatening that you need all your friends to defeat me?”
Toshi smirked. “Oh, I’ll fight you all right. But it won’t be a duel. What honor is there in defeating a sad little rice farmer who was clumsy enough to lose both parents?”
Kato stepped forward. “That’s enough, Toshi.”
That only caused Toshi to laugh harder. “Leave it to you to find the only other loser in the school. Good job! This is why samurai are above everyone else. We may look like others, but beneath our skin, you can tell we’re different. It shows in everything we do and in everything we are.” Toshi smiled. “Except you, Kato. For you, it is sprinkled all over your skin.”
Fury snapped in Kato’s eyes and left no doubt that Toshi had found his weakness. The one thing that made him forget his training.
Anger is your enemy.
The key in battle was to always maintain a cool head. Never let anyone make you so angry you lose control.
“That’s it!” Kato grabbed his practice sword and summoned the yōkai spirit he controlled. It flowed from the small medallion around his neck and laid itself over Kato to form a glowing green silhouette.
Wincing over what his friend intended to do because he was an idiot, Ryuichi stared down the three Black Tortoise students. He and Kato were outnumbered and outmatched, but it didn’t matter. Even if it was hopeless, they couldn’t let this slight against their honor stand.
Standing against impossible odds was the true spirit of the samurai. Something pompous brats like Toshi would never understand.
Toshi was a bully who only understood force.
“It’s three on two. I hope your sword arm is better than your math skills.” Toshi smirked.
Takara stepped forward and joined Ryuichi and Kato. “Apparently, you’re the one who can’t count. It’s three on three.”
As soon as she spoke, all laughter and mockery stopped. Because the one thing they all knew...
If she or her yōkai didn’t kill them, her father would. No one with a brain would ever attack her. To go at her throat would be the same as going at her father’s.
And it would be punished severely.
It wasn’t because she was a girl. There were a lot of female students. It was because she was a Hattori. The offspring of their leader. It was one thing to spar against her and her brother. But to fight them...
That was grand stupidity that wouldn’t be tolerated.
There was a tense silence. One that made the hair on the back of Ryuichi’s neck stand up.
The Black Tortoise on Toshi’s right blanched, then leaned in to whisper to him. “Th-that’s Hattori Takara.”
“I know who it is, Ito. I’m not blind.” He raked a scathing glare over his friends. “Are you Black Tortoises, or are you cowards?”
For a second, they hesitated, which gave Ryuichi hope that their common sense would prevail.
But he was stupid for even thinking that.
The Tortoises braced and prepared for war. Ryuichi saw the way their eyes turned to soulless black as they merged with their yōkai.
With a loud, ringing kiai, Toshi charged Ryuichi, who barely had time to block, and no time to think or prepare for the powerful blow. It knocked him sideways so hard that he almost lost his footing.
Catching himself before he fell, he returned the blow. But it was as useless as he was.
Toshi, while merged with his yōkai, was fast. Blindingly so.
For a group named after a tortoise, they showed no turtle-like qualities whatsoever.
“Masaru!” he groaned between clenched teeth.
His companion completely ignored him.
Without pausing, Toshi swung his wooden sword into the right side of Ryuichi’s face.
Unable to block, Ryuichi gasped as pain rattled his senses and rocked him hard. The blow was so forceful that he lost his footing and hit the ground.
Hard.
“Ryuichi?”
He lifted his hand to assure Kato that he was still alive. Though, honestly, he didn’t feel like it. He could have sworn Toshi had just knocked the life and soul out of him with that one single blow.
As it was, his ears rang, and his vision dimmed.
With a nod, Kato turned just as Ito swung at him. Just like the Tortoises, Kato was using his yōkai in battle.
Where was Masaru?
Unlike Ryuichi, Kato ducked in the nick of time and swung at Ito’s leg.
His mark hit true. A sickening crack echoed. The tip of Kato’s sword split and broke as Ito howled in pain and rolled on the ground, away from Kato.
That blow caused the yōkai to pull out of Ito’s body and return to its usual place, in his sword.
Knowing he’d neutralized his opponent, Kato picked up Ito’s discarded sword to ensure his yōkai didn’t return to him, and he rushed over to Ryuichi, who was getting the snot kicked out of him.
It was as if Toshi or his yōkai could read Ryuichi’s mind and knew exactly where and when he’d strike next.
“Masaru!”
Still no answer.
The Black Tortoise who was fighting Takara held his ground.
Takara raised her blade high and was poised to strike, like a cobra after its prey. Intense. Steady.
Threatening.
Lethal.
That stance alone gave her opponent little room to maneuver. As strong and agile as Toshi was, Ryuichi was grateful that he was facing him, not Takara. She had truly mastered the union between warrior and yōkai, and she knew how to make the most of her spirit.
Like the combat master she was, Takara advanced on her opponent with a fearsome confidence. Every move was precise.
Perfect.
And her opponent was beginning to shake under the stress of trying to keep up.
If only Ryuichi himself could be so polished and perfect.
Instead, he felt the sticky blood running down his face. Warm and wet. His ears rang like an incessant bell, to the point that he feared he might never have normal hearing again.
How did I get myself into this?
More importantly, how could he get all of them out?
He was in a ball on the ground. A shameful ball that couldn’t rise up against the blows raining down on him. He couldn’t even protect himself, never mind his friends.
Kato’s kiai rang out as he rushed for Toshi.
Only then did Toshi stop hitting Ryuichi. With an evil grin, he turned to intercept Kato’s strike.
With one staggering blow, Toshi had Kato on his back.
Like Ryuichi.
Grinding his teeth, Ryuichi tried to stand, but his vision and senses were too groggy. He could barely think straight.
With a sickening glint in his eyes, Toshi stood over Kato with his foot on Kato’s throat.
Kato tried to dislodge him, but it was useless. “You made your point. I give!”
Takara pulled up short as she heard those words.
Ryuichi wanted to keep fighting, but he knew the same thing Kato did.
They were outmatched.
Outfought.
Bested.
Though it galled him, he knew Kato was right. They had to end this.
And Toshi had just won.
Or had he?
Ryuichi cursed as he realized it wasn’t Toshi or the others running the show.
Masaru was there—and he was controlling Toshi from the outside, like a puppeteer. In his true form, Masaru grinned fiendishly, urging Toshi on. No one else could see what Ryuichi did—his own yōkai, working against him.
Why?
Toshi slid his malevolent gaze to Ryuichi. “Are you paying attention, dog?” He pressed his foot harder into Kato, who was gasping and struggling to breathe.
“Enough!” Takara glared at him as she continued to fight her opponent. “You’re killing him!”
“Masaru! Stop!” Ryuichi did his best to break the demon’s hold. He tried to rush him, but there was an invisible barrier between them. So he pounded and kicked, trying to break through.
Nothing worked.
Toshi didn’t stop or relent as he waited for Ryuichi to meet his gaze. “One of the most important parts of being a samurai is finishing the job.”
Kato tried to pry Toshi’s foot off his throat.
They all knew what was coming.
With a series of sickening thuds, Toshi began beating him.
“No!” Ryuichi cried out.
Toshi—or rather Masaru—slung his arm out and knocked him back with an invisible blow.
Takara hissed before she swept her wooden sword against her tortoise and disarmed him so fast that no one had time to process her move.
In spite of the throbbing pain, Ryuichi forced himself to return to help Kato while Toshi continued attacking him.
“What is this?” That booming voice held the rage of a god, and it brought every student to a standstill.
Toshi paled as he realized who he’d angered. His fear was so great that he dropped his sword and tripped.
Even Masaru slinked away and vanished.
Hattori Hanzō approached their group with Kasumi and the Black Tortoise sensei two steps behind him. All three eyed Toshi and the others with fury and disgust.
The Black Tortoise sensei curled his lip. “In all my years, I’ve never seen a more disgraceful display in this house.”
Ryuichi winced. While he was grateful they were here to stop it, he had a bad feeling in his gut.
Takara touched his arm, steadying him. Comforting him.
Hanzō walked forward to close the distance between them. Those in his path split to make room, and to avoid his wrath. No one wanted to be in striking distance, as they all knew of his legendary temper.
Every sharp step sounded like thunder on the ground.
With his dark gaze that missed no detail, Hanzō took in the damage that surrounded them.
One Black Tortoise student was on the ground. Another was holding his leg, crying like a newborn. One of their star pupils had been using his sword to knock another student’s brains out.
Ryuichi, the worthless foundling he’d brought to his academy, was barely standing and trying to avoid his steely gaze.
And his daughter was holding her own bloody training sword.
This cannot be good . Ryuichi wanted to find a hole to vanish into.
He’d been cast in this role too many times to not know how the play ended.
With him as a villain.
Punished.
Please, let it be different here.
Terrified, he held his breath and waited.
Hanzō clenched his fists. Toshi bowed before his lord. “I-it was that boy, Ryuichi’s, fault. He challenged us to a fight as soon as we arrived. He was jealous of us. Kato and Takara joined him.”
Hanzō narrowed that menacing gaze before he pinned it on Ryuichi, causing his gut to tighten even more. “Is this true?”
A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Ryuichi swallowed hard. He wanted to deny it, but if he did...
It would be worse.
“Yes, sir. But not like that. I mean, I?—”
Hanzō held his hand up to cut him off mid-sentence.
Even though Ryuichi was desperate to explain what had happened, he knew better than to speak.
As did Takara. To publicly contradict their lord would be seen as a horrific offense. They would have to ride this out and pray for a miracle.
Hanzō sighed irritably. “Toshi, take the other two Black Tortoise students and wash off. Your blood is contaminating our arena.”
Toshi bowed and helped the other two students leave.
With his lip curled, Hanzō turned to the Black Tortoise sensei. “Get Kato to the infirmary. I’ll deal with him if he survives his wounds.”
If.
That word stabbed at Ryuichi’s heart like a dagger. His pride might have killed the only person who’d ever treated him like an equal.
What have I done?
Kato had only wanted to protect him, and now he was bearing the consequences of the fight.
It’s all my fault. All of it.
Sick to his stomach, Ryuichi couldn’t bear to watch as they callously dragged Kato away.
Like he was nothing.
Hanzō turned to face him with a gut-shriveling glare. While he was used to that countenance, it didn’t mean that it stung any less. “Since you seem to be incapable of behaving yourself around the other students, I’m assigning you to the Night Patrol.”
Night Patrol? It was the first time he’d heard of such. That didn’t seem so bad, but since it was a punishment, it couldn’t be good.
“Takara, come.”
She obediently rushed to her father’s side, but she cast a quick apologetic smile at Ryuichi.
Without another word, Hanzō led her from them.
* * *
Kasumi’s glower was every bit as hate-filled and menacing as Hanzō’s had been.
But not when she swept her gaze to the other students. “Now that this interruption has been taken care of, I would like everyone to resume their practice. Remember: You may rest, but the enemy doesn’t, so get back to it.”
When Ryuichi went to participate, she stopped him. “Not you. You get cleaned up and then practice there.” His sensei jerked her chin toward the straw dummies. “None of them can be harmed by your unfounded pride and arrogance.”
That verbal blow hurt worse than the wounds he endured from Toshi.
He’d harmed his friend. Shamed his lord. And for what?
Stupid pride?
You’re nothing. No one.
And that was all he’d ever be. Just a blight on the world. If I’m lucky, I’ll die and be as forgotten as my parents.