While it was one thing to repay whatever debt of honor her father owed to Koichi-sensei, it was quite another to just hand over their students to die.
“Father, please...”
“Not another word, Takara.”
She winced. Ryuichi was a fast learner, but he was woefully unprepared for the horrors of what was out there. “I just don’t understand.”
His gaze softened. “As I said earlier, the decision was made. To regret one’s actions is to show weakness. Once a decision is made, it must be followed. I will not have that nameless boy be a black mark on our family’s honor. He will fulfill his obligations, or he will perish while trying to do so. He’s meant to become a samurai, not play at being one. His training has commenced. You know our code.”
She did indeed. But never had it tasted so bitter.
If ever there were a time for an exception to be made, Takara believed this to be it. There was something about Ryuichi that made him special. Different.
She’d felt it the moment he’d first collided with her at Hiero’s stables.
Her father clearly saw the boy’s latent talent. The fact that he couldn’t sense the striking difference in Ryuichi showed just how dull he’d allowed his own senses to become.
“May I ask one more question, Father?”
With an irritated sigh, he reached for his tea. “Of course.”
“Is that my father, Hanzo, talking, or the head of the Hattori clan?” Sometimes it felt as if the man in front of her was no longer the father who’d trained her, but rather a mere vessel for the ghosts of the Hattori family.
Fury darkened his gaze. “That’s enough. Get out!”
Heeding that common sense, Takara bowed and quickly made her exit. She’d said her peace. All she could do now was pray for Ryuichi’s safe return. And hope for some miracle.
* * *
Night Patrol wasn’t at all what Ryuichi had expected. Though honestly, he wasn’t sure what he’d thought it would be.
Definitely notthis.
A light rain began as he stood with six other kids.
Seven total, including himself.
Misfits all, by the looks of them.Maybe I’ll finally fit in with this group. A pathetic thought, really, but it seemed to be true. Ichiro stood off to his left, a tall fellow with an upturned nose and a scar across his left brow. He was talking to Katashi, who had heavy eyebrows and was almost equal in height to Ichiro. They were probably around Ryuichi’s age.
Next to them was Masa. Short and thin, he had a ragged kimono and a broken wooden sword. Though why he’d carry around a wooden sword, never mind a broken one, was anyone’s guess. Shigeru, a stout, sharp-eyed boy with short hair and a quick wit, kept picking on Masa with the help of Toru, who was the sloppiest-looking of them all. Even his hair was unkempt and shabby.
That left silent, irritable Taka, who eyed them all with disdain.
Ryuichi only knew Taka’s name because Ichiro had greeted the boy when he’d arrived.
Taka’s response had been an incomprehensible grunt.
No one had spoken a word to Ryuichi, but that was all right. He hadn’t tried speaking to them either.
Mostly because he was still upset over what’d happened earlier. First, Masaru had completely vanished and refused to heed his summons, which made him furious to no end. Second, he had no idea how Kato was doing. And that made him sick to his stomach.
The last thing he wanted right now was to make any more friends he might endanger. The less said, the better.
But he was curious about one thing...
“Should we be patrolling?”
They stopped talking to eye him.
