It was what people beat themselves against, in futile attempts to defeat it. It took the blows and remained what it always was. Unchanged. Unwavering. Indefatigable.
Invincible.
I am the rock. I will always be the rock.
Ryuichi murmured the words as the Hattori siblings led him through the first gate and onto a series of paths that seemed to be going away from the castle.
“Why is Maho-jo behind us when we’re supposed to be heading toward it?” he asked.
Mikito appeared right beside him, seemingly out of thin air. “Illusion,” he explained. “Illusion, distraction, and a keen mind are the tools of a shinobi.”
Takara appeared to his left. “You will learn them all, and more.”
Would he? Or would he become a brick on the ground for others to ride over?
I don’t want to be a brick. That wasn’t the same as being a rock. A rock was the metaphor he chose.
Those shining, sparking things under his horse’s hooves...
They were terrifying. And all too real.
Yet that was the cost of failure, and he’d always been a screwup. Even when he hadn’t been, somehow he’d failed. Success was always his most elusive dream.
Like family.
Panic began to swell inside at the reality that his usual luck would hold, but he tamped it down. It was an honor to be chosen.
He’d always wanted to be wanted.
Not as a brick, you didn’t.
Shush, mind. I need to think. And the panicked voice in his head wasn’t doing anything other than making him want to turn his horse about and run from here.
As if he had anywhere else to go.
You are Ryuichi.
This was a new start. A new place.
He wasn’t going to become another screaming brick to warn others...
I will change my fate. The Hattoris had seen something in him, and he would honor their faith. Prove himself to them.
His parents were warriors, and he would do them proud.
Just as they crossed through the second gate, they began heading toward the castle again.
In spite of all the scary things he was facing, it was beautiful to behold.
Amazed by his surroundings, Ryuichi didn’t say another word until they reached the large, clean stable. Dismounting, he watched as Takara placed her reins over a disembodied stone hand mounted on a stall.
It closed instantly to hold the horse in place.
Gasping, Ryuichi took his horse to one of the other hands and touched the rough, cold stone carving.How could it have?—
The hand closed around his.
With a sharp cry, Ryuichi jumped back.
