His shoulders are always ram-rod straight, like a commander in an army. He often walks with his hands behind his back, as if he’s just out for a stroll. On the outside, he looks like a harmless, unassuming Japanese man. A casual bystander would never recognize him for the ruthless soul that he is.
“He says”—Kurosaki draws near, and both my partner and the trainer step back and bow to him—“that you fight as if there are rules to be observed.” Kurosaki shakes his head. “But there are no rules in the real world, especially not in the world you will rule.”
My heart slams against my ribs. It happens every time Kurosaki speaks about me taking over.
“Who taught you how to fight?”
I keep my mouth shut. Outside of Zane, Dutch, Sol, and my mother, there is only one other person I treasure. And I will never give him up to Kurosaki.
Kurosaki’s eyes glint black. His lips inch up in a smile. “It is fine. You do not have to tell me.” He extends a hand to my training partner, and the man bows deeper before placing the knife in Kurosaki’s upturned palm.
I stiffen, preparing to duck if he swings the knife at me.
Kurosaki digs the point of the sharp knife into his finger and twists in a slow circle. “I do not want to hurt you, Finn. But in this world, I will be the only one who feels that way.”
I turn slightly when he walks around me.
“You must let go of that restraint. It keeps you bound. It will blind you.”
I jump back when he throws the knife. I don’t know if he expects me to catch it, but it slams to the mat at my feet.
Kurosaki nods to the slashing cut on my arm. “If you bleed, your opponent must bleed twice as much.”
A strange sensation hums under my skin. I can’t identify it. Panic? Glee? I don’t know.
“Go on,” Kurosaki encourages.
My chest tightens, holding my ribs hostage. I stare at the knife and then at my training partner who has both hands pressed tightly to his sides. He’s still bowing. Still completely subservient to Kurosaki.
I reach down to pick up the knife. Though I’m not watching Kurosaki directly, I sense his gleeful smile. My fingers curl around the handle. It has a surprising weight to it. Turning, I toss the knife into the wall in the corner.
Both the trainer and my sparring partner lift their heads. Kurosaki remains still, watching me with those dark, calm eyes.
I say nothing as I turn to stalk out of the training hall.
“Some children only learn when they feel pain,” Kurosaki calls at my back. “I do not wish for you to be in pain, Finn, but if I must… I will be the fire in which you are forged.”
Gritting my teeth, I storm out of the training camp and into the sunshine.
Once again, there’s someone waiting for me outside.
He’s wearing glasses and a lab coat and has a first-aid kit in his white-knuckled grip. I skid to a stop, recognizing him instantly.
“Dr. Kenji,” I say, recalling what J called him that night in her hospital room.
“Waka-sama.” Dr. Kenji bows his head and speaks in a reverent voice.
I glance in the direction of the exits and then change paths and approach J’s doctor instead. “This way.”
Chapter Twenty
FINN
Kurosaki’s property is outside the city, and it’s large enough that I haven’t found the end of it.
In the center of the main buildings is a large garden with a gazebo suspended over the water. While other members come and go freely, this space is reserved for Kurosaki and his invited guests.
We won’t be disturbed or overhead.
