Ryuichi said what he knew. “I’m a student.”
Masaru laughed bitterly. “So many titles and roles, yet none of them fit you. It must be tiring.”
“No more so than one of your ilk hiding in a samurai school. Did you have nothing better to do?”
That literally went over Masaru like a tsunami. He could see the yokai’s skin rippling as if he were a bird with ruffled feathers. “Careful, boy. Or there won’t be anything left of you.”
“I’m not afraid of your threats.”
Masaru snorted at that. “It’s not my threats that should scare you...” He rose up and transformed into an oni. “It’s my powers you need to kneel before.”
A flicker of fear went through Ryuichi, and then...
It stopped.
Without rhyme. Without reason.
He didn’t understand it. He should be terrified of the yokai’s powers. As an oni, Masaru was larger than a house, with tusks and red, fiery eyes. He was a sight to behold.
Yet Ryuichi felt nothing.
It’s a dream. Only that would explain his lack of fear. That made sense.
But it felt real. Not the muted emotions of slumber or the dim colors he experienced in sleep.
Do you know what you are?
Ryuichi grimaced at the disembodied voice. “I’m a samurai.”
Cruel laughter taunted him.
Still in oni form, Masaru moved closer. Ryuichi stood his ground.
Refusing to cower, Ryuichi swung out his left hand, and from the shadows, he drew a sword.
With a hiss, Masaru stepped back. “Kendo-kage,” he breathed. “It’s not possible.”
Ryuichi angled his sword at the yokai. “Anything is possible in a dream.”
Masaru moved to corner him, but suddenly a shadow appeared in his path, cutting him off so that it could protect Ryuichi.
“Stop!” it cried.
Ryuichi froze at the sight of a young warrior woman, dressed in full armor. He didn’t recognize her, but her voice was one he knew well. “Keiko?”
Flaming red hair fell over her shoulders from beneath her kabuto. Those familiar dark eyes stared at him. “This isn’t you, Ryuichi-chan. Put down your sword.”
He refused to believe what he was seeing. “It’s not real. You’re not really here.”
She ran her hand along the blade of his shadow sword, leaving a trail of blood in its wake. “It is real, child. Now put the sword down.”
He stared at the stark red against the shadowy black, mesmerized by it. It seemed familiar and strange at the same time. Like déjà vu.
The blood faded into the sword as if the blade was feasting on it.
His breathing ragged, Ryuichi turned his frown from her to Masaru. “I don’t understand.”
The expression on Masaru’s face as he returned to his usual form said he understood what was happening to Ryuichi. “He’s the Kage-taro, isn’t he?”
