“I know who it is, Ito. I’m not blind.” He raked a scathing glare over his friends. “Are you Black Tortoises, or are you cowards?”

For a second, they hesitated, which gave Ryuichi hope that their common sense would prevail.

But he was stupid for even thinking that.

The Tortoises braced and prepared for war. Ryuichi saw the way their eyes turned to soulless black as they merged with their yōkai.

With a loud, ringing kiai, Toshi charged Ryuichi, who barely had time to block, and no time to think or prepare for the powerful blow. It knocked him sideways so hard that he almost lost his footing.

Catching himself before he fell, he returned the blow. But it was as useless as he was.

Toshi, while merged with his yōkai, was fast. Blindingly so.

For a group named after a tortoise, they showed no turtle-like qualities whatsoever.

“Masaru!” he groaned between clenched teeth.

His companion completely ignored him.

Without pausing, Toshi swung his wooden sword into the right side of Ryuichi’s face.

Unable to block, Ryuichi gasped as pain rattled his senses and rocked him hard. The blow was so forceful that he lost his footing and hit the ground.

Hard.

“Ryuichi?”

He lifted his hand to assure Kato that he was still alive. Though, honestly, he didn’t feel like it. He could have sworn Toshi had just knocked the life and soul out of him with that one single blow.

As it was, his ears rang, and his vision dimmed.

With a nod, Kato turned just as Ito swung at him. Just like the Tortoises, Kato was using his yōkai in battle.

Where was Masaru?

Unlike Ryuichi, Kato ducked in the nick of time and swung at Ito’s leg.

His mark hit true. A sickening crack echoed. The tip of Kato’s sword split and broke as Ito howled in pain and rolled on the ground, away from Kato.

That blow caused the yōkai to pull out of Ito’s body and return to its usual place, in his sword.

Knowing he’d neutralized his opponent, Kato picked up Ito’s discarded sword to ensure his yōkai didn’t return to him, and he rushed over to Ryuichi, who was getting the snot kicked out of him.

It was as if Toshi or his yōkai could read Ryuichi’s mind and knew exactly where and when he’d strike next.

“Masaru!”

Still no answer.

The Black Tortoise who was fighting Takara held his ground.

Takara raised her blade high and was poised to strike, like a cobra after its prey. Intense. Steady.

Threatening.

Lethal.

That stance alone gave her opponent little room to maneuver. As strong and agile as Toshi was, Ryuichi was grateful that he was facing him, not Takara. She had truly mastered the union between warrior and yōkai, and she knew how to make the most of her spirit.