Mamoru stood alone in the middle of the dojo with his hands covering his mouth until he heard the shuffle of Takeru and Setsuko’s footsteps leaving the compound and the thud of the sliding door closing behind them. Then he moved his hands, waking his jiya. Misaki watched in surprise as he drew the blood from his face and clothes then formed a scab over his split lip. She knew that as a child, he had shown promise in blood manipulation, but she hadn’t realized that he still remembered the little she had taught him all those years ago. Not only that, he had clearly taken the time to get better
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