Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Aki province, Shikoku region, 1562.

The weather had threatened to turn bad since dawn. Thick, dark clouds blanketed the sky, and blustering winds made it particularly bad as in recent days, storms had been battering the city.

The middle of the rainy season was never pleasant.

As the droplets began to fall, people scampered into nearby shelters, and those who were too far from their destinations ran, careful not to slip. It was only once the streets were almost deserted and a layer of water covered the pathway, a pained grunt was heard alongside the slamming of a door. A small boy was thrown out, the rain soaking his silver locks and the dirt muddying his clothes.

“Never come back, I won’t be so nice next time, beggar prince.”

The man spat at the boy before slamming the door to his now empty restaurant. He had been punched, hair pulled and then thrown out onto the streets for simply asking for food. He had gone days without anything to eat.

He thought of how foolish he was to get lost.

Leaving his crumbling estate, he had wanted just a quick walk outside; all by himself. ‘What would be the harm?’ He innocently pondered. How he regretted it now. The shame he felt was crushing. Those that passed by simply stared at the boy who was now completely drenched, giving him odd glances or looks of disgust upon realising who he was.

The boy of the disgraced Mouri clan, Motonari.

He felt a burning rage, clenching his fists as he steeled himself to walk back in and beat the shit out of the man, until the overwhelming feeling of crushing hatred vanished. The moment of clarity struck when the heavy droplets stopped falling on his head. A small straw hat had been placed upon his head, not big enough for full coverage but enough to shield his face.

His first instinct was to attack the one who dared to touch him, but before he could react, a warm haori of some thick fabric wrapped around him in a nostalgic feeling akin to a hug. He looked up to see the face of an almost expressionless young woman, her [e/c] eyes seeming to peer into his very soul.

Usually, he would’ve felt the urge to yell, scream and defend himself, but something about the sad expression on her face seemed to hypnotise him, where he found himself whispering a faint,

“Why…?”

…

You now sat under some cover in an alleyway, completely drenched. While the young boy was also soaked from the rain, you knew that the dry haori and hat would provide some extra protection from the elements. No words had been exchanged between you two. You simply sat in silence. You thought of where you could travel to next. This city had no clues as to where he could be.

You had little to no belongings, and you had hoped to gift that crudely-made haori to him, but it had been 2 months, so you decided to use it instead for the poor boy you had witnessed get tossed onto the streets. Saving up to buy more fabric would take a while, but the odd jobs you did and countless hours you had were enough to replace it.

Out of curiosity, you gave a quick glance to the boy, who had himself curled up into a ball, head buried in his knees. Wind gusts were beginning to pick up in strength, messing up your already unruly hair. No matter, you’d fix it later.

“Why aren’t you going home?” You bluntly asked, unsure of any other way to prompt him to leave.

You were met with silence.

After giving the haori and hat to the boy, you simply left to find shelter, but he followed you, sitting down a good five meters away from where you were. For 20 minutes you had tried waiting out the storm, but it seemed to only get worse. The wind bashed the droplets into your face, making the little alleyway you found useless in avoiding the storm.

“...Aren’t ya cold?”

Your gaze met the saddened gaze of the boy, his eyes a colour akin to blood.

“Somewhat.”

Silence once more.

There wasn’t any need to say anything. You were simply waiting to leave the city once the weather improved. Giving the haori to the boy would help you lighten your load, making walking to the next city easier. Plus, it would be advantageous for him if he finds himself in a similar situation in the future. You had completely thought through the advantages of parting with the haori before approaching the boy.

The sound of the rain continued. The winds died down, leaving the sound of peaceful rain tapping the rooftops. It could’ve been a few minutes, an hour or a few, but you continued to sit in silence, watching the ripples of the puddles on the ground.

And more time passed.

It was now completely dark outside. You combed your fingers through your hair, at the very least moving it out of your vision. It didn’t matter. The clouds had parted revealing parts of the starry sky, reflecting peacefully onto the partly flooded streets. You stood up, getting ready to leave before feeling a somewhat drenched haori hit your back, naturally hanging on your shoulder.

You turned around, your usual blank expression unchanging as the boy had thrown the garment at you. The two of you stared at each other for a bit, but you relented, sighing. Perhaps he didn’t get the point. You took a step forward towards him, but the boy’s expression suddenly changed and he also took a step back, looking ready to run. You stopped, waiting until his expression changed. As a hint of confusion appeared, you continued your approach and draped the haori over his shoulders.

“Keep this. I won’t need it anymore.”

“...?”

“...You don’t care?”

You blinked.

“About what?”

“About who I am? It seems yer kind of stupid.”

You blinked again.

“It doesn’t matter to me.”

The boy looked up to you in shock, but you simply turned away, beginning to walk down the alley. Your feet sunk into the puddles, but such small inconveniences didn’t bother you. It was your entrusted mission to find him.

“Make sure not to get lost again.”

Unbeknownst to you, the young boy continued to stare, his attention only leaving you as he heard a familiar voice in the distance calling his name.

…

Kyoto, Japan. 22XX.

The lab glowed from the light of various machines, sounds of beeping and the scratching of a pen across paper filled the room. A consistent humbuzz of the fluorescent lights filled your ears. You sat on the opposite end of a table in the middle of the lab, with the scientist that created you focused on writing. She quickly put the pen down, and slid the paper towards you.

“What do you think? See any that catch your interest?”

You blankly looked down upon the list, various names quickly written off the top of her head. Most were common, some were traditional, but none stood out to you. It wasn’t an order. As you continued to stare at the list with no expression, the smile that once rested upon the woman’s face fell, and she sighed.

“Still no good, huh?” She twirled a strand of her long, brown hair around her finger, resting her head on her other palm as she tried to think of some way to get you to show any interest in the list in front of you. This was the 39th attempt, and her patience was wearing thin.

“Okay. Fine. I’ll choose one for you.”

She snatched the paper, had a quick glance over it, and came to a compulsive decision.

“From now on, you’re going to be known as [Y/N]!”

“[Y/N]?” You repeated, asking for confirmation.

“Yes, your name, instead of being MA-024, is now [Y/N]!”

You didn’t really care for the fact that you now had a different name. You simply nodded, replying with a curt “understood.”

The woman across the table had looked spirited, but she then hung her head in defeat. She had really tried to get you to be excited in any sort of way, but it really did seem useless.

You were not a real human, after all.

Simply composed of a mix of organic and inorganic parts, you had full capability to reason and make decisions, but emotion was a foreign concept. The scientist that had created you, Mizasaki Mai, was one of the smartest and respected inventors in Japan, who had made many other revolutionary inventions in the past. Many other scientists in Kyoto university also made mind-blowing discoveries, but to you; it really didn’t matter.

Mai seemed dispirited, sticking her hands into her pockets. Her expression suddenly changed from sad to surprised, and from out of her pocket, she pulled a small locket necklace. You simply observed her expression as she traced a thumb over the edge of the small, intricate design. She had a small smile.

Mai then redirected her gaze to you, the small smile still present.

“[Y/N], I have a task for you.”

“Yes, Mizasaki-san?”

She held out her hand, and dropped the small locket into your outstretched hand.

“I want you to deliver this to Sasuke Mikumo, the astrometeorologist that studies in ward 8.”

“Is this related to a project?” You asked.

“No… just, give this to him for me, please?”

“Understood.”

You promptly stood up, ready to leave the lab, but Mai’s voice from behind stopped you briefly.

“And one more thing… Don’t open the locket. At all. Okay?”

You stared at her for a moment, finding it strange. You had never overstepped her boundaries, but you dismissed it, replying with another monotone “understood” before closing the door behind you.

It was only after you left that Mai’s gentle smile disappeared, and she leaned her head on top of her arms. Closing her eyes, a single thought crossed her mind.

‘I hope you can be happy in my place.’

…

You were informed that Mikumo-san had gone to visit the Honno-ji monument. It was sunny, crowds of people happily chatting and doing business. You would’ve blended in naturally if it weren’t for your unnerving blank gaze. The sun began to set as you neared the site, the traditional streets of Kyoto juxtaposing the jumbled mess of machines and lights that the rest of Japan was. Getting the locket out of your pocket, you turned the corner to see him, staring intently at the stone carving in front of the historic site.

In his hand was a small tablet with countless calculations, and live graphs of data swirling in the mess of layers of documents open in the software. You calmly walked towards him, calling out his name.

“Mikumo-san.”

The man was snapped out of his reverie, his gaze meeting yours. You instantly memorised his calculating yet gentle eyes, the way his lips were slightly parted in surprise. The way that his hair was organised, and the general vibe of professionalism that he exuded.

“I brought–”

Before you could say anything more, a droplet of rain fell from the sky, hitting your forehead. You recalled checking that the weather would be fine, and your gaze moved up to see dark clouds suddenly forming, hiding the once amber sky away from view. The next few moments seemed to go by in a blur, as Sasuke suddenly ran towards you, hand outstretched in attempts to grab onto you, but it was for nought. A bolt of lighting hit the ground in front of you, instantly obscuring both of your visions.

The next sensation was one of falling, and you blacked out.

When you awoke next, you vaguely remembered the feeling of smoke surrounding you, but it had vanished. You pushed yourself off of the ground, and looking around, you found yourself at the front of a forest, with a small village of traditional architecture in the distance. The rain eventually subsided, and without the faintest idea of what happened, you pocketed the locket that still remained in your hand, and you headed to the settlement.

This is how you found yourself in the middle of the Sengoku.

Chapter Text

The border of Kai and Sunpu province, Kanto region, 1564.

Two sets of hurried footsteps resounded throughout the dark forest, the moon as the only source of light. A man no older than 19 followed by his relative, searched for any sort of sanctuary, a place of refuge from the corrupted world that they knew as Japan. They ran, weaving past trees and jumping over logs to come to a halt at a small clearing. One of the men, with dark-blue hair and covered in clothes only fit for a noble, fell to his knees, his dim gold eyes peering into the never-ending sea of stars. 

“Yoshimoto!” A voice called out from behind him, where Yoshimoto met the gaze of someone only a few years younger than him.

“Why did you follow me?”

“Do I even need to answer that?”

The second young man, who had chestnut hair and grey eyes, took a seat next to Yoshimoto, joining him in looking at the stars.

The two shared a moment of solidarity, the growing grief overwhelming Yoshimoto. 

“Shingen… Don’t look at me.”

“...Got it.”

Shingen turned away, Yoshimoto’s quiet sobs joining the cries of distant owls and the chirps of crickets. Shingen didn’t know how to console him. There was nothing that he could’ve done to prevent what happened. Despite his composure, deep down, Shingen wanted to cry as well; but he held back his tears. He felt undeserving of that privilege, knowing that Yoshimoto needed the relief more than he did.

Shingen knew the delusion that Sessai had. But he never thought that he would go to the extent of assassinating Yoshimoto’s brother. Following this, Yoshimoto would be made the new head of the Imagawa clan. However, both him and Yoshimoto knew that he held no true power. It was Sessai’s schemes, plots and madness that had trapped Yoshimoto into the role. There was no turning back.

Shingen could only sit close to Yoshimoto as he cried. Fists clenched and his expression of anger, the only way they could get rid of their emotion was through suppression.

Time passed and the two remained in silence. Shingen turned around to look at Yoshimoto, who looked back at him with the face of a man who had simply accepted the cards that fate dealt him. It didn’t stop the resentment they felt, but the moment of understanding that the two shared was more than enough. 

Their focus went from each other into the forest, where the snap of a twig and leaves crunching was heard. 

“Footsteps!?” Shingen exclaimed, immediately drawing his katana. Yoshimoto followed, drawing his own blade. They stood ready to strike, but only confusion took over when a woman emerged, a bundle of fabric in her arms. She had been looking at the ground, until her own [e/c] eyes met that of Yoshimoto and Shingen’s.

…

Surprised, albeit only briefly, you quickly scanned the two men in front of you. Despite the katana they held, you could tell it was in defense. The way they looked closer to being ready to run than to lunge at you meant that you had simply startled them. Perhaps looking for herbs and mushrooms in the middle of the night wasn’t the best idea. You looked down at your little bag, snuggled in your arms and filled with various plants, and back at the men. Their caution heightened, brandishing their weapons once more to warn you to back off.

“I apologise. I was simply gathering herbs.” You stated, bowing deeply. 

You stood up straight again to look at their confused faces. Shingen stepped forward, his katana still in hand.

“That doesn’t really sound like a valid excuse, who in their right mind does that now of all times?”

Indeed, it wasn’t normal. But that fact didn’t bother you. 

“I see,” you spoke, “then I shall take my leave.”

You turned around, but before you could, the other man spoke.

“Let us escort you.”

“Wha– Yoshimoto, she just–”

“Don’t worry. I can tell she isn’t dangerous.”

Yoshimoto gave Shingen a gentle smile, which Shingen frowned at, but eventually agreed to. You blinked at their neurological communication, wondering what they thought of you. After disregarding that concern, you turned to face the two again, and said;

“That won’t be necessary. I can find my way back.”

“If I may object… it looks as if you’ve been lost for a few days.” The man named Yoshimoto said, gesturing at your dirtied and ripped kimono. 

Yes, it was true that you were lost. But it didn’t worry you too much. What mattered was that you kept on moving, covering as much ground as you could to find him. 

“Thank you for the concern. But please don’t worry. Farewell.”

You bowed for courtesy, and began to walk past them. 

“Please wait.”

Yoshimoto seemed to glide in front of you, with the other man standing not too far from you both.

“I don’t want to see you in this state. At the very least, please let us bring you back to the nearest village.”

“...The state you're in isn't fit for a lady.” The other man said, though in a low tone. 

You stared at Yoshimoto, and then at Shingen. Your blank gaze was slightly unsettling, causing Yoshimoto to look at you in concern and for Shingen to take half-a-step back. Figuring that it would be more trouble to shake them off you, you agreed, and the three of you set off towards the village.

…

It was awkward. With Yoshimoto leading the way, you in the middle, and Shingen behind you, you finally arrived on a pathway. Yoshimoto wanted to forget what was happening in his life, to run away from the responsibilities. He had hoped that helping you would’ve helped to keep his head occupied from thinking about it, but the silence only helped to amplify the noise. The stress of living up to the expectations of Sessai, the devastating grief that ate away at his heart for the death of his brother, the fear of what was to come. He closed his eyes, covering his ears with his hands, but the voices in his head refused him any reprieve. 

It was in this state of mental torment when he had failed to recognise the tree branch on the pathway, and his foot got stuck. He snapped out of his confusion, the sensation of falling turning into horror as he realised he had begun to fall into a steep ditch. There was nothing he could grab that would stabilise him. The world turned into slow motion, and in the corner of his eye, he saw Shingen’s panicked expression. If he were to fall, this would cause major injuries. The rocks at the bottom glinted in the moonlight, and before Yoshimoto made peace with his future; he felt a gentle grasp around his waist.

It was you.

You seemed to fly. With the same blank expression on your face, you grabbed him and placed yourself between him and the ditch, your feet barely gripping onto the edge. At first, he was shocked, and then the confusion on how you had all that strength washed over him. But those sensations wouldn’t ever compare to the enchantment he felt as he stared into your eyes. The world stopped for that moment, but for that moment, Yoshimoto felt that he wanted to stare into those eyes for eternity.

Time resumed when he heard Shingen’s voice.

“Yoshimoto!”

He snapped out of his state of shock. After helping him stand on his two feet once more, Shingen grabbed his shoulder and began to berate him. He flashed Shingen a sheepish smile, looking back at you only to see an expression of wonder. You were… looking at his clothing?

“The embroidery...” You noted.

Yoshimoto felt himself freeze. In the years he had lived, he hadn’t ever seen someone with the same wonder and curiosity that you held in your expression. You knelt down to admire the gold, the depiction of the landscape that patterned his clothing, and when you said;

“It’s beautiful.” 

The small smile on your face made his heart leap, a small blush covering his face. He immediately composed himself, and chuckled a bit.

“I admire the craftsmanship that went into this piece, I had requested–”

“Is this the time for this?” Shingen interjected, putting his hand on Yoshimoto’s shoulder. 

Yoshimoto wanted to continue talking, but you had already stood up and continued to walk down the path, where he turned around to see your herbs had been scattered across the ground, sadly falling into the mud. You abandoned your stuff just for him? He called out to you.

“I’m sorry, if I’d paid attention, your herbs–.” He said, but was interrupted.

“That doesn’t matter. I got something more important.” 

You refused to elaborate and continued on. By now, there was a fair distance between you two, so Yoshimoto ran to catch up, with a confused Shingen in tow.

…

“Thank you.” You said, bowing to them once more.

You had eventually ended up in the nearby village. You stuck your hand into your kimono, pulling out a few coins to repay them, but they both refused. 

“No need, but I appreciate the offer.” Yoshimoto said, smiling wearily. Shingen remained quiet beside him, but nodded, as to agree with him.

Shingen couldn’t help but let out a loud yawn, and began to head in the general direction of the Imagawa estate. Knowing that they would be reprimanded regardless of what they said, Shingen walked slowly, hoping to extend the time before they were found. Yoshimoto was about to follow when he felt the urge to ask you before you left;

“May I ask what was more important?”

You gazed at him, your blank expression that was once somewhat threatening turning into one more of someone who was interested. 

“The embroidery.”

“But why?”

“I want to make something beautiful like that as well.”

Yoshimoto was slightly taken aback, and even more confused when he saw you take out a blue cord covered in shining beads, which wasn’t perfectly woven, but had its own charm. 

“I want to give him something nice.” You flatly said, but behind that monotone voice, Yoshimoto felt a yearning, but something that he couldn’t completely pinpoint.

“But I doubt I will be able to for now.” You then moved towards him, gently grabbing his hand and placing it in his own.

“Since you refuse financial repayment, I hope this may suffice.” You said, before bowing once more. Yoshimoto felt confused, looking down at his hand. He admired the beauty of the decorative cord, and before you vanished into the nearby inn, he asked;

“What’s your name!?”

You hesitated, but responded. 

“[Y/N].”

It felt like eternity that Yoshimoto stood in silence, staring at the gift that had been imparted unto him, only being brought back to reality as Shingen called his name.

Chapter Text

Definitions

Tanegashima: Japanese matchlock gun
Wakizashi: Smaller version of the katana, carried as a back up if warriors lost their katana in battle.
Obijime: A rope wrapped around the obi for decorative purposes
Obidome: A decoration attached to the obi.
Kaki shibu: Traditional Japanese bag

—-

Mino Province, Gifu Prefecture, 1565.

Another nuisance. A young white-haired man sighed, securing a tanegashima to his belt. Such were the problems of clan relations, with the current one being of marital concerns. One of the minor clans in the province were looking to get Nohime as their wife, to establish relations and secure their legacy to the Mino Province. He and his clan's leader knew that they wouldn’t last, as they had no history other than the dream of an arrogant man who believed he deserved to rule Mino with an iron fist.

Despite this, they had decided not to fight. The Dosan, the clan that Nohime belonged to, would hold a meeting that would discourage the ronin from causing further trouble. The young man, named Mitsuhide, would act as one of Dosan’s guards and as a third party during the meeting. It would take place at Gifu castle, but he would be greeting the ronin at the entrance of the town.

Mitsuhide left his estate and mounted his horse, riding towards Gifu castle. Once arriving, he met with the Dosan leader, and caught a peak at Nohime, who sat behind a folding screen. While only being able to see through the small gaps, Mitsuhide felt a strong sadness from the sorrowful gaze Nohime had. The two briefly met eyes, causing Nohime to divert her gaze away. Mitsuhide continued his discussion with the Dosan leader, composed until a sudden suggestion unexpectedly came out of left field.

“Nohime will accompany you to greet them.”

Mitsuhide’s expression turned into one of surprise, his eyes widening. His smile turned into a small frown, but he dared not question his logic.

“Understood.”

Nohime and Mitsuhide, along with a few other guards, left the castle, making their way through the surrounding town. The locals started at the ethereal Nohime, her soft yet distant gaze entrancing those who dared peek. It was in the moment that Mitsuhide realised that the one he was escorting wasn’t the real Nohime, but the one who hid in the shadows. He slowly approached the side of the horse ‘she’ was riding, and gave a quick tap to ‘her’ side.

“Be sure to play your role, Kicho.”

The mention of his name caused Kicho to look surprised, but he averted his gaze ahead to ignore Mitsuhide. It wasn’t that Kicho hated Mitsuhide, in fact, he was one of the only individuals who knew of the two-faced lie that ‘Nohime’ was. Mitsuhide knew the differences between him and his twin sister from their subtle mannerisms, showing that Kicho could, and would never be able to perfectly emulate his sister. As if he could read minds, Mitsuhide gave a small pat to Kicho’s back with the faintest smile.

Kicho stared at Mitsuhide as he moved back to his position, looking forward once more. Kicho felt neither comforted nor angry, but a paradoxical happiness and sorrow of being acknowledged as both Kicho and ‘Nohime.’ If only Nohime hadn’t been sick, he wouldn’t have needed to do this.

It wasn’t long until they met the ronin. Their presence felt imposing, the smirk of the young clan leader oozing narcissism. His goons were large men, covered in head to toe with traditional armour. In his mind, Mitsuhide cursed these fools. The Dosan and Akechi were on the verge of wiping them off the map. They posed an annoyance more than a threat to the clans. Their consistent bothering of the villagers for ‘protection tax’ meant the Dosan began to struggle financially, and with time, it would both ruin the Dosan’s reputation and weaken their forces.

Despite the hatred Mitsuhide had for the ronin, they were annoyingly powerful in combat. The Dosan’s leader planned to propose a marriage to one of their distant cousins, a compromise between what the greedy ronin wanted and an addition of a strong force to the Dosan clan.

“Sato-dono. I see you’re well.” Mitsuhide greeted them, giving a brief bow.

The leader, the same age as himself, stepped forward. His smirk morphed into an expression of anger, as he yelled- “That’s Sato-sama to you!”

Mitsuhide felt his brow twitch, but remained amicable.

“My apologies. We are here to escort you to Gifu Castle.”

Mitsuhide stole a quick glance at ‘Nohime,’ who seemed unfazed other than the tight grasp ‘she’ had of the horse’s saddle.

“I see you’re even considerate enough to bring my fiancee here.” Sato sneered, an unsettling smile appearing on his face.

“Discussions of that matter will be left with the Dosan leader.” Mitsuhide quickly said, earning a growl from the ronin leader.

“Whatever. You’re just being arrogant, and clearly you don’t understand how great I really am, lowly Akechi.”

“Insulting me will result in nothing. It’s quite a waste of time.” Mitsuhide rebutted.

“You mutt! Who said you could talk to me in that manner!?” The ronin leader unsheathed his katana, brandishing it towards Mitsuhide. The guards accompanying Mitsuhide and Nohime quickly positioned themselves in front of him, protecting the Dosan princess. The ronin’s lackeys also took to their weapons, the townsfolk, previously observing, retreated for safety.

“Oh dear, how will you be able to ask for a marriage into the Dosan family now? Threatening me is making a horrible impression.”

“You bastard! Lowlifes like you have no respect!”

Mitsuhide saw no future where the ronin leader would marry into the Dosan clan. His provocation proved Mitsuhide’s impression of him, Sato Riku was just an immature child. His simple emotional manipulation was all Mitsuhide needed to provide a reason for the Akechi and Dosan to simply drive them out with violence.

“I suggest you leave. This has simply proved you’re unsuitable for the Dosan clan.” Mitsuhide said.

“You… you!”

The enraged ronin leader gripped his katana, overwhelmed with rage.

“You really are stupid.”

It was only then when Mitsuhide recognised his mistake. The light footstep behind him, the gentle breeze that caressed his cheek signaled that someone was behind him. He swiftly turned around, only to see Kicho being grabbed off the horse, the man covering his mouth with a fabric before booking it for an alley. The townspeople made no effort to stop him as the dagger in the ninja’s hand would’ve slashed at whoever got close.

“Fend them off! I’ll retrieve Nohime!” Mitsuhide yelled at the soldiers.

He ran with all his might, the sounds of clashing steel and the maniacal laugh of the ronin leader echoing in his mind.

…

How could’ve he been so stupid? His own overconfidence and blatant ignorance to an ambush from his back put Kicho in danger. Mitsuhide was hot on the man’s trail, Kicho struggling in the ninja’s grip. They ran through the streets, but the man was too fast for Mitsuhide to catch. His thoughts raced, and he suddenly remembered the tanegashima by his side. He quickly gripped it, aiming for the retreating ninja. The ninja seemed almost telepathic, quickly shifting Kicho from his front to his back, using Kicho as a shield.

“Shit!” Mitsuhide resumed his chase, finger on the trigger, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot. Other Dosan members attempted to give chase as well, but the ninja was simply too fast for any of them to catch. It wasn’t long before they would need to continue the chase into the nearby forests, where they most likely lose sight of Kicho. If only he hadn’t been overconfident. If only he had paid attention to his surroundings better. This would’ve never happened.

Only a few more streets, then the forest wouldn’t be far. The commotion caught the attention of merchants entering the town, who cowered as the ninja yelled at them to move. Mitsuhide gritted his teeth, quickly assuming the stance to fire. The ninja’s rapid movements made it hard for him to guess where he would go next, and the danger of hitting Kicho made him hesitate. He couldn’t do it. Mitsuhide couldn’t shoot.

The ninja jumped from cart to cart until he landed on the ground, ‘Nohime’ on his back. He landed not far from a random traveler. He readied his blade, yelling at them to move, but was instead met with the glint of steel. Time seemed to slow as he realised his mistake. A young woman with [h/c] hair had pulled a wakizashi hidden behind her, and threatened to slash at his stomach. There were no visible weaknesses to her form, so in a split second decision to save his own life, he dropped ‘Nohime’ and jumped backwards.

‘Nohime’ met the ground with a thud, a pained gasp exiting ‘her.’ The mysterious woman stepped in front of ‘her,’ reading her wakizashi to defend the young princess. The ninja began to approach them, and lunged, but fell to the ground as a splatter of red from his shoulder made him fall to the ground.

“Nohime-sama!” Mitsuhide yelled, his tanegashima still smoking from the shot he took. He quickly kneeled down in front of ‘Nohime,’ scanning ‘her’ for any injuries. ‘Nohime’ shook ‘her’ head, and was helped up by Mitsuhide extending a hand. The two turned to the woman, who had gotten her obijime and tied the ninja’s hands up. The ninja grunted as she fastened the knot, but she paid no mind to his pain and looked back at Mitsuhide and ‘Nohime.’

She gave a quick nod to the two and continued to walk towards the town, as if nothing happened. Mitsuhide was in shock, but ‘Nohime’ had gotten up and ran to her, grabbing her kimono. The woman’s [e/c] eyes looked down at ‘Nohime,’ whose appearance was now disheveled, yet shone with the most beautiful eyes. ‘Her’ mouth opened up multiple times, as if struggling to get the words out of ‘her’ mouth. The woman quickly came to understand what ‘Nohime’ was saying, and knelt down, putting a black spider lily obidome in ‘her’ hands.

“It was nothing.” She said briefly, and she stood to continue her walk into town.

Mitsuhide was about to call out to her until the Dosan soldiers finally caught up to them, surrounding both Mitsuhide and Nohime. They bombarded the two with questions and blocked their fields of view, and as the two finally reassured the other Dosan members that they were alright, the woman was nowhere to be seen.

…

The sun had now set. The Sato ronin were executed. ‘Nohime’ had been treated at Gifu castle, and Mitsuhide roamed the lonely streets. The few that were out gossiped about the abduction of the princess, which would definitely turn into an issue that the Akechi and Dosan clan would need to address. Mitsuhide melted into the shadows once more, and after roaming the streets a little longer, he found her. The one who had saved ‘Nohime.’ She was simply sorting through some things in her kaki shibu, standing by the side of the road.

Despite her bland appearance, one of a light brown kimono to blend seamlessly into a crowd, somewhere she had hidden a wakizashi and used it to defend ‘Nohime.’ Mitsuhide simply approached her, the footsteps catching her attention.

“Come with me.”

The woman with [h/c] hair simply obliged, and soon, found themselves alone in a back alley.

“Who are you?”

“A simple traveler.”

“No ‘simple traveler’ would be able to stand against a ninja. Are you from a clan? And how–”

“My name is [Y/N]. That’s all.”

Mitsuhide felt himself get annoyed at her bluntness.

“...Well, [Y/N]-san, I told Dosan-sama of your role in saving Nohime-sama, so you are being invited to meet Dosan-sama to ask for your reward.”

“No thanks.”

‘What?’ Mitsuhide momentarily couldn’t believe what he had heard.

“Did you just–”

“I don’t need anything.”

Mitsuhide’s gold eyes were open with surprise. The blank gaze of [Y/N] was proof enough that she was completely serious. She had no indication of lying, no body language that even hinted at the possibility that she was simply being humble. She really wanted nothing in return.

“You really don’t need anything?”

“Thank you, but I will be okay.”

[Y/N] bowed.

“I will get going–”

She was suddenly stopped by Mitsuhide who outstretched his arm to stop her from exiting the alley. Their gazes met, and Mitsuhide pulled out a small bag of coins.

“At least take this. If you’re traveling, you’ll need money.”

[Y/N] hesitantly took the bag of coins and bowed deeply.

“Thank you for your generosity. I will be taking my leave now.”

“One more question.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you rejecting the offer to get a reward personally from Dosan-sama? You do realise you’re turning down something only a few people will ever experience in their lifetimes?”

“I’m searching for someone. And he isn’t here. So I need to keep searching.”

[Y/N]’s reply made Mitsuhide want to ask more questions, but he knew that there was a deeper story behind her motivations.

“Thank you.” Mitsuhide simply said, and [Y/N] nodded, disappearing into the many streets of the town.

Mitsuhide was left alone to contemplate his thoughts.

It was only because of fate that [Y/N] happened to be there to stop that ninja. Otherwise, Kicho would’ve been seriously injured or even killed. He blamed himself even more, especially because he didn’t consider the possibility of ‘Nohime’ being taken as a hostage to force the Dosan to accept the rogue ronin. He simply needed to get stronger; to ensure this would never happen again.

Mitsuhide made a promise to himself that he would never falter again.