“I’m not—”
He hooked my ankle with the same move that had beaten me when we were children—thatexactsweep that had humiliated me on the docks all those years ago.
“Point. Victory to—” Master Hachan began, but hesitated.
“Again,” I demanded, pushing myself up.
Something hot was building in my chest.
Not just embarrassment now.
Anger. Real anger. Raw fury.
My eyes flickered—I felt them change, saw Kaneko step back in surprise, but then they returned to normal.
“Yoshi,” Kaneko said, and there was questioning in his tone. “Maybe we should—”
“Again!” I demanded.
Practice weapons still on racks began to hum, vibrating against the wood.
Then the ground cracked around where I stood, and steam rose from my skin despite the cool morning.
The assembled students took a step backward. The masters stiffened. Even Master Giichi stepped down from the stairs, then stopped, as if waiting for something only he knew would happen.
The air grew heavier.
Cherry blossoms began falling from the trees, then some driftedupwardinstead of down.
“Rise!”Nawa’s voice boomed in my head, now urgent and commanding.
Kaneko, eyes wide, shrugged and reset his stance.
Movement at the edge of the yard caught my eye—Prince Haru and Esumi arriving.
This time I attacked first, pouring everything into it.
Mybokkensplintered in my grip, and blood dripped from my nose before we even connected. I moved in a blur, a smear of light and shadow darting across the ring. I’d never moved that fast, never dreamed of doing so.
Kaneko dismantled me anyway, redirecting my force, using my momentum against me, always exactly where I wasn’t expecting. When he swept my legs—thatsamebloody childhood move again—and raised hisbokkenfor the winning strike, something inside me shattered.
The temple bells began to hum without being struck, an eerie sound somewhere between a moan and song. Masters’ heads turned this way and that, seeking the disturbance of their peace.
“Fight properly!” I snarled, scrambling up.
“Iamfighting properly.” He wasn’t even breathing hard. “You’re being predictable.”
He was right. I knew he was right, but the way he said it—the samepityingtone he’d used when we were children, when he’d beaten me in front of everyone, when he’d tried to let me win out of kindness—
“Now!”Nawa’s voice roared.
The weapons on the racks clattered louder.
Students shuffled back.
The spiderweb beneath my feet spread until it reached outside the ring.
And then Kaneko made a mistake.
