“Don’t worry, young master. I’m not going anywhere.” He patted Ryuichi’s head as he began to hum. It was a gentle lullaby he’d learned from Ryuichi’s mother. One she used to sing as she commanded her gates. He was sure she would have sung it to her baby had she lived to soothe him herself. Used it to lull Ryuichi to sleep.

Ryuichi relaxed at Masaru’s humming. He couldn’t recall ever having heard the song before, but it sent a familiar warmth through him. Like something from a dream.

A song full of a mother’s love. Haunting and sweet. It made his eyelids heavy.

In spite of everything he’d been put through—all the lies and secrets—that song made the weight of the world almost bearable, even if only for a little bit.

With one long, deep sigh, he let it wash him into the gentle arms of sleep.

Masaru couldn’t believe it when he felt the boy relax.

No one had ever trusted him like this—not even when he’d been a guardian. It was as if, even then, they’d known that one day he would betray his oath and those around him. That he would let the darker part of his nature seep into his soul and lead him astray.

He still didn’t know why he’d betrayed his oaths. It hadn’t been for love or any noble reason. Not even for money.

Basically, he’d been bored. And he’d spent eternity being punished for it.

In truth, he didn’t deserve a second chance. He was a scoundrel. A liar. Everything Keiko had accused him of. His heart was as black as Ryukage’s.

How could a boy who had no reason to believe in anything put his faith in a creature like him?

It made no sense.

Just as it made no sense for him not to hand the kid over to Ryukage and take what little freedom he could get. If he was smart, that was what he’d do.

Or use Ryuichi’s powers for himself.

It would be so easy to enslave a child so trusting . . .

Do it . . .

Koichi entered the room. “Masa⁠—”

Holding his hand up, Masaru shushed him. “The boy sleeps.” He pointed to his lap.

Koichi lowered his voice to a soft whisper. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” He gave a wry smile that made Masaru want to knock the samurai’s teeth in. “The Big Scary looks . . . dare I say? Gentle?”

He curled his lip. “Only if you wish to be breathing-impaired, and I won’t be gentle if you wake him.”

Koichi held his hands up in mock surrender. “Warning and irritation noted . . . as well as your sour mood.”

“Good.” Because honestly, Masaru was just as surprised as Koichi was to find himself in this situation, even if he would never admit it.