Ryuichi grimaced at them ganging up on him. “Are you afraid of a challenge? Am I so threatening that you need all your friends to defeat me?”

Toshi smirked. “Oh, I’ll fight you all right. But it won’t be a duel. What honor is there in defeating a sad little rice farmer who was clumsy enough to lose both parents?”

Kato stepped forward. “That’s enough, Toshi.”

That only caused Toshi to laugh harder. “Leave it to you to find the only other loser in the school. Good job! This is why samurai are above everyone else. We may look like others, but beneath our skin, you can tell we’re different. It shows in everything we do and in everything we are.” Toshi smiled. “Except you, Kato. For you, it is sprinkled all over your skin.”

Fury snapped in Kato’s eyes and left no doubt that Toshi had found his weakness. The one thing that made him forget his training.

Anger is your enemy.

The key in battle was to always maintain a cool head. Never let anyone make you so angry you lose control.

“That’s it!” Kato grabbed his practice sword and summoned the yōkai spirit he controlled. It flowed from the small medallion around his neck and laid itself over Kato to form a glowing green silhouette.

Wincing over what his friend intended to do because he was an idiot, Ryuichi stared down the three Black Tortoise students. He and Kato were outnumbered and outmatched, but it didn’t matter. Even if it was hopeless, they couldn’t let this slight against their honor stand.

Standing against impossible odds was the true spirit of the samurai. Something pompous brats like Toshi would never understand.

Toshi was a bully who only understood force.

“It’s three on two. I hope your sword arm is better than your math skills.” Toshi smirked.

Takara stepped forward and joined Ryuichi and Kato. “Apparently, you’re the one who can’t count. It’s three on three.”

As soon as she spoke, all laughter and mockery stopped. Because the one thing they all knew . . .

If she or her yōkai didn’t kill them, her father would. No one with a brain would ever attack her. To go at her throat would be the same as going at her father’s.

And it would be punished severely.

It wasn’t because she was a girl. There were a lot of female students. It was because she was a Hattori. The offspring of their leader. It was one thing to spar against her and her brother. But to fight them . . .

That was grand stupidity that wouldn’t be tolerated.

There was a tense silence. One that made the hair on the back of Ryuichi’s neck stand up.

The Black Tortoise on Toshi’s right blanched, then leaned in to whisper to him. “Th-that’s Hattori Takara.”