They’re getting closer. The ninja frowned as he retrieved his dagger from the body of his pursuer. The other two had already been dealt with, and Taiki let out a tired sigh as his sharp gaze swept around. It was nearing dawn, and darkness enveloped his surroundings, making it hard to see.

When he was sure no one else was in the vicinity, he pulled down the mask covering the lower half of his face and breathed in the crispy air. He closed his gray eyes for a moment and dragged a hand through his short, black hair, thinking back to how he ended up in this situation.

Not long after he left his old master, the Kitayama daimyō, and while he was doing his next job, he encountered a lone shinobi. He didn’t know if it was a spur-of-the-moment or planned action from the other party, but Taiki was almost assassinated.

Three days later, two more ninja appeared, and this time, Taiki was sure he was specifically targeted. It seemed his location had been exposed and reached the ears of the elders. It didn’t matter that the warrant for him had been issued fifteen years ago; it was indefeasible.

They still haven’t given up on exterminating me, he concluded as he crouched down to wipe his dagger in the black uniform of his victim. His thoughts turned to the comfortable years spent in Shirotatsu castle. For some reason, his kin had never found him while he worked there. But as soon as he parted with that place and its people, he was already being pursued.

He glanced at the Easter horizon, which was just starting to get brighter. It was time to head back to his master. When Juro had contacted him after all those years, he’d felt conflicted for the first time after his desertion of the hidden village. Truthfully, he owed his life to him.

***

He jumped down from the rooftop as soon as he felt a wave of dizziness. Little Taiki shook his head to get rid of the sensation, but that only made it worse. He careened and plopped down on the dusty road, leaning on his fists. He shivered from cold but could see drops of sweat land on the back of his hands.

Poison, he thought before remembering a prick on his wrist when he had run into that woman near the festival and she had grabbed him briefly. She must be one of them.

Taiki pushed himself to his feet and stumbled as soon as he took a step. He landed on all fours as his breathing became harsh.

“You’re pretty resourceful for a brat,” a man next to him spat.

“Don’t underestimate him,” the woman from before remarked. She sounded nearby, but Taiki had trouble focusing. “All the others previously had died.”

The man huffed.

“Still, doesn’t this make you uneasy?” another man said. Taiki tried to lift his head, but it felt too heavy, and he tumbled forward. He collapsed on his stomach. “I mean, three of us against a skinny little brat?”

Someone nudged his side with the tip of their footwear.

“How despicable indeed,” a new voice agreed.

“Huh?”

“Wha—?”

“Who are—?”

Taiki’s three pursuers exclaimed at once before their voices jumbled together with shouts and screams.

Who is it? The boy silently wondered. He felt a rush of threatening energy prickle his skin as he his consciousness slipped. Are they here to kill me, too?

He didn’t know how much time had passed in the darkness, but suddenly, all his senses came back and he sat up, gasping for air. His brain was in overdrive as he tried to get his bearings.

The futon under his fingertips felt bumpy and rough, but it smelled freshly washed. Taiki looked around the small room. Other than a low table and a dresser in the corner, it was void of furniture. The wooden planks outside the room creaked as someone arrived.

The door slid open before he could come up with a plan, and a man with sharp features and indistinguishable age stood there, looking at him. Taiki gulped and tensed his muscles, ready to fight at any second. The man’s calculating gaze gave him shivers.

“No need to be so wary. I did save you, you know,” he said. His smooth voice seeped into Taiki’s ear and spread out. His body relaxed and he immediately calmed down.

Taiki narrowed his eyes as soon as he realized his unnatural reaction to the stranger’s words. The man’s clothes and weapons indicated he was a samurai, but his appearance was rugged and Taiki felt something off as he observed him.

“I’m not going to ask what a young boy like you did to have those assassins on your heels.”

In Taiki’s opinion, that was even more suspicious. “What do you want?”

“Ah, he speaks.” The man chuckled as he sat a few feet away from Taiki’s futon. “I would be lying if I said a little gratitude wouldn’t be nice.”

“What else?” the boy continued to interrogate him. Then he cleared his throat, and the man held out a gourd for him.

“It’s water. Drink it.”

Taiki eyed the gourd. He had no idea of the mysterious man’s intentions. Eventually, he took the flask and screwed the top off. He smelled the liquid inside, and it didn’t look suspicious. Still, as a ninja, Taiki knew there were undetectable poisons.

He had used them himself on several occasions.

He had to survive.

“Why did you help me?” he asked instead of drinking.

“Well...” The man scratched the back of his head, seemingly embarrassed. This made his short, tousled black hair stand on end, and he looked away for a moment before fixing his ebony gaze on the boy. “You reminded me of myself.”

The gourd slipped out of little Taiki’s hands.

“What—?”

Taiki snatched at the gourd, spilling the water a little.

“A child left alone in this harsh world to fend for themselves. You and I are alike,” the samurai explained.

“I can take care of myself,” he replied, and the man fixed him with a skeptical look. Unawares, Taiki sipped on the water. By the time he realized what he was doing, it was too late. He froze at that, waiting for the aftereffect.

But none came, no matter how long he eyed the flask in his hands.

“As I said, it’s clear water. No need to be so on guard,” the man reminded him before sighing. “Although I can understand your wariness.”

“What do you want in exchange for helping me?” the boy asked, his voice small. Defeated.

The samurai smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Still, it was the first friendly gesture Taiki had had ever since his friend died at the shinobi exam and he fled the village.

“Just a friend.” The samurai reached out to pat Taiki’s head, but the boy recoiled. The man froze before he put his hand back down on his knees. “Call me Juro.”