And Toshi had just won.
Or had he?
Ryuichi cursed as he realized it wasn’t Toshi or the others running the show.
Masaruwasthere—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 yokai, 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 Hanzo 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.
Hanzo 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, Hanzo 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.
