Seven samurai nocked their arrows, drew their bows and aimed through the loopholes. With the humans crowded on their end of the bailey, the samurai had a clear line of sight to Yumi.

Yumi stepped back and hit the wall. No where for her to hide. “Coward!”

Kuro glanced from Yumi to Ren’s disappearing back, but that was all the time he had as the samurai released their arrows. The arrows whistled through the air. Kuro leapt in front of Yumi, his back to the samurai.

Two arrows pierced Kuro’s body, one in his shoulder, the other in his leg. He gritted his teeth against the pain when it flared.

“Kuro,” Yumi breathed.

He checked on the arrows. They hadn’t buried themselves too deep. Even with the barb, he was able to yank them from his flesh. Blood trickled from the wounds, but that wasn’t too bad either. He’d suffered worse in the attack on the Imperial Palace.

Yusuke sneered. “Get down there,” he ordered the samurai.

Kuro grinned, wincing as he waited for the pain to die down. What did Yusuke expect them to do? Jump down from the wall? They’d break their legs.

The three of them were safe for the moment, but he couldn’t leave Yumi to run after Ren. Yusuke could just be pretending to be an idiot to lure Kuro into a false sense of security.

The samurai disappeared from the loopholes.

Kuro wanted to yell after Ren. But if the Shogun hadn’t noticed that Ren was there, Kuro wasn’t going to alert him by screaming.

The samurai reappeared on the platform carrying a ladder over their heads. Oh, so that was how.

Two samurai ordered the Undesirables away from the ladder as the others descended. Kuro cursed. He couldn’t fight samurai. Maybe he could hold them off in his fox form — he shook his head. Terrible idea, just terrible. The last time the Night Parade had glimpsed his fox form, they’d destroyed the Imperial Palace. He couldn’t risk his form somehow affecting the barrier, the only thing holding back the Night Parade.

But he also couldn’t take the chance that he could somehow hold his own against the samurai. He needed Ren.

The samurai shoved through the humans when they were too slow to duck out of their way. Kuro bit his lip. Didn’t they realise that if the samurai won, they would die?

Kuro straightened. Perhaps they didn’t. Humans were stupid that way. “Oi!” he yelled. “If the samurai hurt this girl—”

“Woman,” Yumi muttered.

“—woman, the barrier falls and you’ll be eaten by demons!” Kuro paused, then added, “What’s a worse death? Samurai sword or demon fangs?”

Perhaps mentioning that the samurai might kill them instead was the wrong motivation tool. Kuro could admit that.

But the crowd rippled, heads turning to the samurai. The samurai made one fatal error — they hesitated. They showed weakness. Any spirit knew better.

The closest humans streamed in, blocking their way. The samurai shoved them, but more humans crowded behind them, creating an impenetrable wall.

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Grinning cheek to cheek, Kuro grabbed Yumi’s arm and dragged her into the crowd.

She ripped herself from his grip.

“Don’t give the samurai a clear shot,” he told her. “Use them as a human shield.”

“Kuro.” She didn’t seem happy.

“If you die, we all die. Sometimes we have to sacrifice a few to save the many. Or so you believe, since you’re always throwing yourself head long into danger.” Kuro turned to push forward into the crowd.

Yumi grabbed his shoulder. When he glanced back, at least she was bending her knees and keeping her head down. “Where are you going?”

“You need a guardian.” And only one human fit that description.

Ren had almost reached the ladder. The humans’ urgent need to stop the samurai had slowed his progress as the humans kept sweeping him to the side. But they also slowed Kuro. He groaned to himself. In his fox form—

He shook his head. Still a bad idea. But while the samurai hadn’t yet drawn their swords to hack their way through, judging by the humans’ triumphant cries, they would soon. Yumi needed Ren before then.

And Ren needed his sword. But that was step three of Kuro’s plan.

“Let me through,” Kuro snapped at the humans. “Our lives depend on it.”

If they recognised his voice or just the truth of it, the humans shifted away. With a sigh of relief, Kuro ran forward, catching up to Ren mere yards from the foot of the ladder.

He grabbed Ren’s shoulder to haul him back. Ren whirled. One hand gripped Kuro’s wrist, the other placed itself on Kuro’s elbow, ready to break it.

“Wait!” Kuro screamed. He needed his arm!

Ren paused. He made a frustrated sound, and released Kuro. He turned back.

“Ren, stop!”

“I need to face him,” Ren snarled. “I need to make him pay.”

“I know—”

“Shut up!” But at least Ren whirled back to him again. “My family died. Because of you, because of him!”

“Mostly him,” Kuro couldn’t help but add.

“He stole everything away from me,” Ren said. “My family, my sword, my inheritance — the only thing my father could still give me. He stole it, and I’m going to get it back.”

“With interest, I’m sure.”

He tried to drag Ren back, but Ren slammed his hand into Kuro’s forearm. Not hard enough to break, but enough to make him let go.

“Ren!” He needed to stop him. Somehow. “This isn’t — you’re not the Ren I love.”

He used the word specifically, even as admitting out loud that he liked Ren, admitting a vulnerability that others could use to destroy him, grated the knot in his belly.

But the word stopped Ren in his tracks, a look of confusion flickering across him, before it was replaced with pure scorn. “You mean someone who knows who his enemy is? Who doesn’t moon over the man trying to kill him like a puppy? That’s how you described me, right? A stupid puppy about to get beaten, but can’t help but wag his tail.”

Kuro raised his hands. “That Ren is okay, in parts. But I meant I liked the Ren who cares more about protecting others than revenge.”

Ren shoved him. Actually shoved him. The crush of humans behind him kept Kuro from going very far, but Ren stepped into Kuro’s space, snarling down at him. “As if I’d believe that! After all the hours you railed against me caring about strangers. Risking myself for strangers. Well, I’m not. This is about me!”

“Hours?” Not the point, Kuro. “No, this is about Yumi. Who’s not a stranger. You know her. She agrees with every one of your stupid ideals, and she’s risking her life right now so you can, what, let her die, let the humans die, all so you can skewer yourself on the Shogun’s sword?”

“It’s my sword!”

“She needs you,” Kuro said. “You’re the only one who can fight toe to toe with the samurai and win.”

Ren shook his head, but ended up staring at where the samurai’s helmets stuck out above the crush. While they’d been arguing, the samurai had gained another six yards, and their swords flashed. The humans pressed closer, trying to pin the samurai’s arms down so they couldn’t fight.

“And yes, I do like you being suspicious,” Kuro said, “but only if it makes you live longer. That’s what suspicion is for. Not dying. Not running faster toward death.”

Ren tightened his shoulders. He didn’t look at Kuro, not yet.

“And if you really want to stick a sharp, pointy disobedience up the Shogun’s arse,” Ren couldn’t help but turn to look Kuro in the eye, startled at the crassness, “then nothing says, ‘fuck you, traitor’ than protecting the one person stopping the Shogun’s plan.”

Kuro didn’t wait for his words to sink in. He darted forward, pecking his lips on Ren’s nose.

“Kuro…” Ren didn’t seem capable of saying anything else. His hands came up to grasp Kuro by the shoulders. “I—”

“Should be more suspicious of others,” Kuro finished. He headbutted Ren square in the forehead.

Ren stumbled, fingers loosening. Kuro grasped him by the elbows and spun them, putting himself between Ren and the Shogun.

“Go protect Yumi.” He shoved Ren toward her and ran for the ladder. “I’ll get your sword back.”