And with that, the two of them left him alone with these strangers.

Ryuichi didn’t like the feeling of being so exposed. Of all the others staring as if he were some kind of unwanted yōkai beast.

Suddenly, he wished himself invisible again. Funny how he’d never appreciated that ability before. Now it seemed like a superpower.

One he wanted back desperately.

The full weight of his isolation struck him hard.

A boy walked over and bowed in front of him. He was unlike anyone Ryuichi had ever seen. His skin was pale and freckled, his eyes a bright green. Even stranger, he had short, curly red hair. He smiled as Ryuichi bowed. “I know what you’re thinking. Everyone stares at me because of how different I look. I’m Kato. My father’s Sir Walter.”

One of Oda Nobunaga’s famed retainers. Ryuichi knew the story well, as it was whispered often among those around his old home. Sir Walter had come from Europe as a trader. But he’d proven himself as an invaluable translator and warrior for Nobunaga. So much so that the great Nobunaga had made him a samurai and given him lands to rule. That was what Nobunaga was known for. He thumbed his nose at tradition, shocking those who followed and protected the rules of the past.

That was what Ryuichi loved best—that Nobunaga didn’t care what anyone thought. He followed his own path, regardless of criticism. Regardless of enemies.

Oh, to have that kind of strength.

That kind of confidence.

Ryuichi couldn’t even begin to imagine it.

“Kato is one of the best archers we have.” Another boy moved to bow in greeting. He was almost as tall as Ryuichi. With deep-set eyes and a square chin, he had a pleasant smile. “I’m Jiro.”

Ryuichi bowed to them both. “Nice to meet you.”

Jiro motioned him toward the far wall. “There’s an open bed next to Pim. But he doesn’t talk much.”

“Pim?” He frowned at the unusual name.

Jiro leaned forward to whisper. “His father’s also from Europe.”

“I’m Dutch.”

Ryuichi gasped as the boy appeared at his side. But that wasn’t as startling as his curly white hair and vibrant blue eyes that rivaled a summer sky for their color. And his skin . . .

Never had Ryuichi seen anyone so very pale. “What’s Dutch?”

The boy rolled his eyes. “I’m from the West. A place called the Netherlands.”

The two bowed to each other.

Again, it was well known that Nobunaga didn’t follow traditional Japanese customs that required samurai come from the bravest families. He made samurai and warriors out of all manner of people, including peasants.

Another thing Ryuichi had been mocked for at his old school, as many of the boys there had sworn his father was a peasant, hence why no one knew his father’s name.