“But how? Why?”
“I do not know the why. As for the how . . .” He smiled, and for the first time since arriving at Suwa Temple, I saw Prince Haru not as the disappointing third son or the Emperor’s castoff, but as something else entirely. Something powerful. Something dangerous. “We will figure that out together if you are willing to put in the work.”
“Yes,” I said immediately. “Yes, please.”
Kaneko bumped my shoulder. “You’re going to be likethat,” he said quietly. “Like a hero from the old stories.”
“Good. Then we start tomorrow at dawn, before your regular training.” Haru glanced at Esumi, who had recovered enough to stand straight. “We will need to be discreet. This gift . . . not everyone understands it. Most will fear it. They may . . . come to fear you.”
“They certainly wouldn’t approve of anyone outside Haru’s family possessing it,” Esumi added quietly.
“Everyone saw when this thing woke up,” I said, unsure how to describe the spectacle of magic exploding from my frail body a few weeks earlier. No one had seen that coming—especially not me.
“They sawsomething, but I doubt they know what it was. Few truly understand.” Haru dipped his head. “For now, this stays between us four. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Kaneko and I said in unison.
“Go get something to eat,” Haru said. “You will need your strength for tomorrow.”
As we bowed and stepped away, I caught bits of Haru and Esumi’s conversation that followed.
Esumi whispered, “That was the right thing . . .”
“I hope so,” Haru replied. “He reminds me of . . . lost . . . powerful . . . not understanding why.”
“You . . . father and brother.”
“Now Yoshi has us.”
Chapter 4
Kaneko
The dining hall was nearly empty by the time Yoshi and I stumbled through its doors. Only cold rice remained in the serving bowls, the good portions long since claimed by students who hadn’t spent their entire day being thrown around like a rag doll.
“Even the pickled radishes are gone,” Yoshi groaned, scraping the bottom of a ceramic dish.
“Here.” I found half a steamed bun someone had abandoned, probably because it was hard as stone. “Soak it in the tea. It might soften.”
We collapsed onto a bench, too tired to maintain proper posture. My shoulders ached, my legs burned, and I hadn’t even been the one training. Just watching Yoshi struggle with his gift had been exhausting enough.
“Prince Haru moves like water,” Yoshi said between bites of rock-hard bun. “Like wind. Like—”
“Like something not quite human,” I finished quietly.
Yoshi nodded, his eyes distant. “And he saysI’llbe like that.”
The evening bell rang before I could respond, its bronze voice echoing through the temple grounds.
Meditation.
We both groaned.
“Maybe we could skip it,” Yoshi suggested hopefully. “Say we’re ill.”
“And have the master check on us personally? He already dislikes that Haru monopolized your training today.”
We hauled ourselves up, leaving our barely touched meals, and trudged toward the meditation hall. The other students were already arranged in neat rows on their cushions, backs straight, hands folded. We slipped into our places near the back and tried to be invisible.
