Chapter 7
Kaneko
The sky was still more black than blue when I slipped from Yoshi’s chamber. Morning practice would begin soon, and I’d forgotten my bokken in my room the night before—too distracted to remember something as simple as a practice sword.
The temple corridors were empty, my footfalls echoing off stone floors still cold from the night. A few early-rising monks drifted through the shadows, preparing for dawn prayers. They paid me no attention. I was simply another student fetching equipment before training.
I pushed open my door, already calculating if I had time to change into fresh clothes, when I saw it.
Another black crane.
Centered perfectly on my pillow, as if it had always been there.
My stomach turned to ice, and my hands trembled as I approached the bed. The paper bird seemed to grow larger with each step, its blackness absorbing the weak morning light, creating a void against the pale bedding.
I didn’t want to touch it, didn’t want to know what new chain the shadows were forging around my neck, but I had no choice—I’d never had a choice, not since that day in Bara when I’d traded my soul for survival.
The paper felt wrong between my fingers, too smooth and too cold. I unfolded it, the creases resisting like before. This time, there were only nine words in that shifting silver ink:
Return with the Prince to Bara. Do not delay.
I read it three times, letting its meaning sink in.
Return with the Prince?
But Prince Haru had only been here a month. Why would he leave? And why was I being ordered to accompany him?
My mind raced through possibilities, each worse than the last.
Had the shadows orchestrated something? Was Haru in danger? Was I meant to be his protector or . . . ?
And Yoshi—
My heart seized.
How could I leave Yoshi now, when his power grew stronger and wilder each day, when he needed me most? When we’d just found each other again? When our love shone so brightly it hurt my eyes?
I crushed the paper in my fist, then thought better of it and smoothed it out again.
Evidence.
Always destroy the evidence, Sakurai had taught.
I held the corner to the lamp’s flame, watching the black paper burn with an unnatural green edge, leaving no ash, no trace, as if it had never existed.
My bokken forgotten, I raced back through the corridors toward Yoshi’s chamber. I had to know what was happening, had to understand why everything was changing so suddenly.
I found him sitting on his bed, still in his sleeping clothes, his face pale. He looked up when I entered, and I saw shock in his eyes—mingled with grief and confusion.
“Yoshi? What is it?”
“The Emperor,” he whispered. “Master Chen just . . . The Emperor is dead.”
The pieces clicked together like a lock opening.
The Emperor was dead. Prince Haru would need to return for the funeral, for his brother’s coronation. The shadows wanted me in the capital during that chaos.
But why? What role could I possibly play in the Empire’s moment of transition?
“Dead? How?” I managed to ask, though my throat felt full of sand.
“Master Chen didn’t say, only that the dragon’s breath has stilled and Prince Haru must return immediately.” Yoshi’s eyes searched mine. “Everything’s going to change, isn’t it?”
I dropped beside him and pulled him into my arms, desperate to never let him go, though knowing that was exactly what I was about to do.
“Yes,” I said, because lying about that would be pointless.
Everything was already changing. I could feel it in my bones—the Empire needed something from me, something beyond my understanding. The shadows hadn’t trained me, marked me, claimed me just to watch from the sidelines. Whatever came next, I was already trapped in its web.
“I have to go with him,” I heard myself blurt out.
Yoshi’s head snapped up. “What? Why?”
My mind scrambled for an excuse that would make sense, that wouldn’t reveal the black crane’s command.
“Prince Haru has been helping us—helping you. We owe him protection on the road. These are dangerous times, and he’ll have few guards.
I . . . I trained in the capital. I know the roads, the dangers. ”
“He has guards, Kaneko. The temple will send their own Samurai, too.” Yoshi stood, reaching for me. “You can’t just leave. I need you here. What about my training? What about . . . us?”
I gulped back the rancid taste of betrayal, the bitterness of the lies I had told—was about to tell—and lifted Yoshi’s chin until our eyes met.
“This is bigger than us. If Prince Haru doesn’t make it safely to the capital, if something happens to him on the road . . .” I let the implication hang.
“But why you?” Yoshi’s voice was growing shrill as panic overcame rational thought. “You’re just one man, a boy, really. What can you do—”
“I have special skills that could help. You know I do.” My heart shattered as his eyes widened, then filled to overflowing.
He blinked a few times, tears streaking down his unlined face.
I watched him struggling, wanting to argue but recognizing the logic.
In times of crisis, duty came first. Every student at Suwa understood that, even if we hated it.
“How long?” he asked quietly.
“I don’t know.” Another truth. The shadows hadn’t given me a timeline, just an order.
“You’ll come back?”
“If I can.” It was the most honest answer I could give, and it broke something in his eyes.
I pulled him against me then, fierce and desperate, memorizing the feel of him—the way he fit against my chest, the soap and sweat scent of his hair, the tremor in his breathing that said he was fighting tears.
His arms came around me just as tightly, as if he could keep me there through will alone.
I wanted to tell him everything—about the black cranes, the shadow training, the vow that bound me to masters I’d never truly seen. I wanted to confess that I was walking into something terrible, that the shadows had plans within plans and I was just a blade to be wielded.
Instead, I held him and wondered if this was the last time I’d ever do so.
Because my heart knew it might be so.
And if the gods allowed us to return to one another, would I still be Kaneko, his friend and lover? Or would I become something else—the shadows’ tool, the Empire’s weapon, a stranger wearing familiar skin?
Would he remain the same? Would he still want me if I changed?
“Be careful,” Yoshi whispered against my shoulder. “Whatever happens, be careful.”
“You, too. Don’t let the power control you. Remember what Haru taught you.”
We stayed like that until the morning bell rang for practice, until duty called us both to our separate fates.
When I finally pulled away, I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t bear to see what I was leaving behind.