OK, Hayate was right. She was definitely a girl.

And there was no way Ryouma was letting a girl out-man him.

He straightened his shoulders with a little jerk, and dropped his hand down to his side. The angling scar throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Haruichi had healed him, knitting sliced and salt-rubbed flesh and skin, but it took deep muscles a long time to forget. He did his best to ignore it, anyway.

"My guts aren't falling out, so I think I'm good. That a new taijutsu style? 'Cause I think you'd do some real damage." He glanced back at Hayate. "I bet you'd be good at it, too. What's your specialty, anyway?"