He gestured with a sake bottle toward the others. “Welcome to the Kai-dan, our ‘little broken group,’ as the others call it. Eventually, you’ll learn everyone’s name—if you survive long enough, that is.” He leaned in to whisper in Ryuichi’s ear. “I’ll be honest though. Recently our prospects haven’t been so great on that front.”

Clearing his throat, Koichi straightened up and clapped him on the back. “But who knows? Maybe you’re the lucky charm we need . . . or not. Either way, this is where they send the students who are too undisciplined . . . or the ones they just don’t want to be bothered with.”

Koichi leaned in again, right next to Ryuichi’s face. Ryuichi could smell the alcohol on his breath. “I wonder which one you are.”

With him so close, Ryuichi could finally see his sharp features clearly. Koichi wasn’t like any samurai he’d ever beheld. His haphazard and filthy blue kimono barely concealed his athletic chest, and it was full of holes. He reeked of sake and body odor, making even Ryuichi, who was used to shoveling manure, choke at the stench. He couldn’t understand how someone like this was allowed on school grounds, let alone given the honor of teaching.

It made no sense.

Koichi let out a sinister laugh. “I do hope you’re ready. We’re not like the other spoiled brats cooped up there in the big fancy school, with clean floors and basic insulation. No, sir. We here at the Night Patrol do things dirty, and we do things quick . . . and dangerous. So leave your faint heart in the barracks. From here on out, your training is going to be hands-on. Practical. The kind of stuff that’ll make you want to break the rules.”

Never.

The only thing on Ryuichi’s mind was how to get back so he could be with his friends, Kato and Takara. All he wanted was to be by Kato’s side as he recovered.

He owed him that much.

Instead, here he was with a smelly fake samurai and these poor kids who’d done who-knew-what to be punished.

Maybe they were Toshi’s other victims.

Or maybe they were like their sensei—dishonorable, undisciplined, and unworthy through their own actions.

Kegare!

If that was true, then Ryuichi was nothing like them. He’d been cursed, but they would have chosen to be here. By word or by deed. They would lack all honor.

There was a world of difference between the two.

He would never willingly be like this sensei. Honor was everything to him.

Koichi wiped at his red nose. “Any questions?”

His anger over being put into the Kai-dan barely leashed, Ryuichi shook his head.

I’ll get out of this. And he would too. He really didn’t belong here. With them! By all the gods, he would not stay in this awful group.

I am a samurai!