#ikemenfics

You, however, were greatly missing home this holiday.  Christmas was that time of year for joy, family, gifts, and love.  Instead we both were mired in cold, pain, tension, rations, and alienation.  A wormhole swallowed us both and Sasuke, who ended with the Uesugi (another thorn of sadness that our brethren of the modern era was forced to the other side of the war) and I could see the toll it was taking to see you missing your homeland now more than any other time since coming here.

The sengoku family huddled around the campfire, doing what warcamps generally did.  Told stories, boasted accomplishments, commiserated about missing their loved ones.  I warmed my hands at the fire, watching you as we listened to the great unifiers of Japan.

“So I challenged, ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’,” The One-Eyed Dragon reenacted his fight from earlier that day.  A glorious victory, one could be sure.  “And sword in each hand, I went for it.  No one, not even The God of War would have been able to keep up at that point!” “You’re right,” Ieyasu lamented, gulping down the last dredges of the stew Masa had made for the soldiers, “My bandages can scarce keep up.  Can’t even see how you do it.” “Ha!  I’m just that good,” Masa’s smile was wild and flamboyant as he quite deliberately misconstrued Ieyasu’s chidings, a feat Ieyasu himself noted and rolled his eyes to.

“Mm, but I was quite impressed with our little princess actually blocking an arrow as she flailed about the battlefield,”  Mitsuhide always knew how to fluff my feathers, darn it. “Look, it was YOUR idea to have me on a blasted horse after I told you I specifically did not want to be near a horse,” I replied, my back stiff as it recalled the terror of my little adventure today, “The block was sheer luck and I am grateful to the gods for it.” “Still looked cool to me,” Masa offered. “It was reckless.  Be more aware next time,” Hideyoshi chided.

“Ok, but what about after?”  I pointed to you, my ears burning and wanting the attention off of me, “The way you handled those blades to get me to safety.  Where did those come from?” “Oh yes, do tell,” Mitsuhide’s flaxen eyes watched you for your response as well. “They’re mine,” you stated, matching Mitsuhide’s entertained expression with a calm one of your own, “Lord Nobunaga even said I could keep them when I found them.  Take it up with him.”

It was nice seeing your face lose its gloominess, but it was not to last.  Soon, conversations drifted back away from the two of us and the shadows of homesickness returned once more.

[If only there was something I could do...hmm]  You stood, seeking your way to the supplies tent, an idea coming to your head, “Just need some…”

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”  I jumped, finding Ieyasu staring at me.  “Planning on throwing our supplies to the wind like yourself earlier?” “No,” I held up a finger, “Do you have lemons or oranges?”

“And those are..” [Oh yeah right…]  “Uh...like...yuzu..or kan?

“We have yuzu for the onsen, but we have those packed until we reach Kiyosu.” “We’re leaving?” Ieyasu sighed, “Yes.  That Motonari is interfering too much and it looks like every side is stretched too thin to deal with everyone at once.  We’re withdrawing.” I nodded, turning back to the supplies, “Could I have one or two?”

“Braincells?  That might be too much,” Ieyasu retorted, “Otherwise I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mikan or yuzu.” “Why” “Something…”

Ieyasu gestured but approached one of the carts food.  He plucked up four yellow fruits and handed them to me.  “What do you want these for?” “A gift.  There’s…” I hesitated.  While it was generally accepted we’d come from another village- and shoot I from a whole country entirely given my western looks- how it came that we shared traditions and knowledge was always a bit of a slippery slope.  I attempted to keep my words careful, “a holiday where I’m from.  And with us both,” I indicated camp, implying you, “so far from home...I was just hoping to share something of my home...to make it easier.”

Ieaysu nodded and said nothing else.  I took it as my signal to flee and escape.  Next, I took my way to the food tent.  With Masa already having fed everyone, I was sure the tent would be empty.

I was wrong.  “Something you need, kitten?”

I smiled, though I’m sure I still looked quite like a mouse in front of the playful cat.  Also, I’m quite sure Mitsuhide would love to have heard that comparison.  [No giving the marksman anymore ammunition, me.]  “Was hoping to find a knife...to cut these,” I held up the yuzu for Masamune to see.

Tool obtained, I set to work, splitting the fruits in half and gouging out the center parts, trying to leave as much of the white pith behind as possible.  Part of the juice, I let flow back into the bowls I’d created and put the rest into an actual bowl, stating, “If you add a little sugar and water to this...you can make refreshing juice for the soldiers.  Makes for a great revitalizing drink.” “Noted, kitten.”

[And now I’ve introduced lemonade almost 100 years too early.  Sasuke please don’t be mad...but I mean you kept Kenshin alive...pretty sure my sin is a lot smaller in the eyes of Gallifrey.]

I peeled up a bit of pith, standing it straight up from it’s little yuzu bowl.  I smiled at my handiwork, “Kinda wish I had wax, but this will have to do.” “Not sure why we’d have wax on a military campaign since we’re not Buddhists here, but I’d be delighted to hear why you want it, little mouse,” the tent moved aside and the silver fox of azuchi was there.  “And what this has to do with yuzu fruits.”

 [Of course he’d investigate.  The man, I swear, can detach his eyes and have them float around like little moons, I’m sure.]  I held up my little bowl of pith and citrus juice.  “I’m making a gift for someone.  Ieyasu-sama gave me two, but I only really needed one.  One for me and one for my friend.”

“And you need wax because?” Now Masamune was back into the conversation, his single sapphire eye alight with curiosity. “I’m making makeshift candles,” I stated, quite proud of myself. Mitsuhide smiled and I could tell he was laughing at me, “Such effort for such a tiny thing.”  I puffed my cheeks like the little gerbil I was in the face of the fox and Mitsuhide was unfettered, “There are plenty of ways to get candles without all this effort.  Ieyasu had almost thought you were going to bathe yourselves.  Pity he was wrong.”  

I bit my retort as my face was already scorching and I knew my voice would never cooperate after such a devastating strike to my armory of wit.  

I took my candles and thanked Masamune for his help and Mitsuhide for his lack thereof and set out to find you.  

You were helping put the majority of the fires for the night, some staying lit for the watchmen taking up their nightly guard.  I called and you glanced up, finding a tiny decimated citrus fruit being presented.

“Come...it’s Christmas.  They’re not beeswax but they’re better than nothing.”

We stepped to the back of camp, out of the way and hopefully well out of any danger that might come.  The sky was barren of stars due to the blanket of cloud threatening more snowfall.  It was a shame.  A star or two would have made this much nicer.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” You asked, holding your little gift in question. “Well, I thought we could light it and sing Christmas songs.”  It was only after the words left my mouth that I realized I forgot something instrumental in my plan.

“With what?”  You noticed the flaw as well. I laughed, I mean what else do ya do?  It wasn’t the end of the world, but embarrassed I still was.  “I obviously didn’t get that far.”

“Obviously,” you agreed.

So, we stood, staring at a bunch of cloud, the white of the snow gleaming on the ground.  The nighttime world was changed into a whole new realm when the snow falls.  That period that’s not dark, but clearly not day and certainly not a twilight.

“Still...be a waste to ruin the night, huh?”  I asked.  My mouth opened and the snow provided the perfect sound barrier to keep my song from carrying too far into the night.  

Adeste fideles laeti triumphantes

“Your Latin is terrible,” You laughed.  I stumped over the next few words, small bits of laughter almost overtaking my song.  But still I sang.  Eventually, even you joined in, our imperfect pitches doing little to stop us from enjoying our little bit of caroling.

“Maybe instead of kittens, you should be songbirds,” a voice chimed in.  We turned, Masamune, holding a hollowed out yuzu half behind us.

“We could call them cuckoo birds,” Mitsuhide offered, holding a makeshift candle of his own.

“Well, don’t let us stop you from keeping everyone in the camp awake,” Ieyasu, holding a candle of his own, waved his hand, “Go on.  We’ll wait.  Not like we got anything better to do.”

I laughed, resuming singing.  Noticing that you weren’t singing along.  I elbowed, and poked, but you were not having it.  [No matter] I though, letting lose my inner Mariah Carey [I’ll sing enough for all of us].  Mitsuhide approached, lighting our candles, the citrus scent wafting from the heat of the flames.

Silent Night broke out into Holy Night and we Veni’d Emmanual for what seemed like forever and no time at all.  

“Hmm,” a new voice approached as Nobunaga appeared, holding his own little bowl of candle.  “I heard voices and found this.  I am curious what my vassals and charms are doing.”

“Caroling,” You responded, your cheeks red from cold but eyes bright with merriment.

“It’s tradition,” I quipped, prepared to sing the next number.

“And does Emmanuel,” Nobunaga pronouncing the name Emmanuel in his accent was an event I’d cherish forever, “know of the tradition.” “You know Latin,” you blinked at him in surprise. “Enough to know you’re not singing anymore. Now,” Nobunaga, holding his candle to Mitsuhide to light, “Continue this caroling of yours.  I demand to hear more.”

“They went aft th' Uesugi Takeda alliance, too?”  The white haired man leaned back, looking all but flabbergasted hearing the recent events regarding the Oda and Takeda incidents.  “They mad?  That’s madness.”

The messenger nodded, agreeing with the pirate warlord, “There were no casualties though.  That’s the strangest part…”  They sat, contemplating their sake as they spoke.  

“So ye're tellin' me that a lone figure broke into th' Oda 'n Uesugi castles.  Nah only that, they went aft th' warrior monk, too.  Hmm..."  an idea spawned into Motonari’s head.  If he could get ahold of the geniuses that broke into the castles AND got to the warrior monk, that could spell complete chaos on all sides.  Motonari’s face broke into a grin at the thought, dismissing his subordinate.  

"Now all that's needed be gettin' th' apparent trespassers t' come t' me."

Elsewhere, around a table sat figures playing cards.  One perked his head up, gave a nod, then excused himself from the game.  Another figure reached to peek at his cards but found his hand smacked away before he could eye the hand.

Motonari had wandered into the woods.  His intention was to question Kennyo himself, as an “ally”, about the recent drama.  After all, Kennyo had also failed to take the town he had planned to raid.  There was definitely suspicious intelligence at work and if it was against Oda, Takeda/Uesugi, and Kennyo...they were people he definitely wanted to see.

His vision warped and he nearly fell over as his mind tried to reorient itself.  A point pierced reality, slicing cleanly downward.  A figure in white stepped from the tear in the world, giving a bow of flourish.

“Pardon me,” the man said, raising from his bow, “My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to bring you this.”  A small bag appeared in the man’s hand and was tossed towards the pirate warlord.  “You are to use this to bring joy-”

[Now’s me chance] Motonari didn’t let Edgar finish.  He charged towards the man, hitting him near his midsection, knocking him off balance.  The two tumbled into the tear in reality, Motonari already standing to dash away into the realm behind the tear.  Edgar stood and considered giving chase. “It seems, I must notify the king of my failure.”

Figures at the table started placing their cards down. “Straight.”

“Gay!”

“I got nothing.”

“Pair...10’s.” “Two pair, queens and aces.” “Go fish.” “Wrong game, but good try.” “What did Edgar have, though…” another hand reached for his cards.  “Royal Flush..ace high.  How?!” Before the conversation around the table could continue, a figure burst into the room, rushing past the players without a word.  Several pairs of confused eyes followed him as he left, Edgar close behind. “My king…” Edgar panted, “we have a breach.” 

Chaos erupted as everyone stood, dawning back their full uniforms, preparing to apprehend the man. “Wait.”  The red king glanced in the direction Motonari had gone, “Reinforcements might be needed.  We can’t risk the citizens.” “Agreed,” the black king nodded.

Orders were given and soon the members all split in two directions, some towards the border of reality, others into Cradle.

You were walking through the halls, delivering various repaired garments to their respective owners when the world warped. “AGAIN?!” Was all you could cry before familiar aqua hair appeared. “Yoohoo~!”  Seth stepped into reality, followed by a figure you’d never seen before.  His companion was tall...very tall.  You craned your neck to get a good look at him.  He stared down at you and you were sure he started hunching so you wouldn’t have to look up so far.  “We need your help,” the man said, “Where is your king?”

You and your new guests arrived at the war room to alert Nobunaga and co.  There wasn’t a meeting and messengers had to be sent, leaving time for introductions between you, Sirius, and Seth Hyde. “A queen?  But you’re a...?” You trailed off, letting the question hang lest you accidentally offended someone. “Not that kind of queen, little lady.” “More like a queen in a deck of cards, second to the king, as it were.”

The war room doors slid open with a loud thwack as men charged into the room.  “Motonari has done what?!”  Hideyoshi’s cry preceded him as men filed into the room.

You explained, “They said that Motonari walked through the tear that the strange man with the chocolate had made.  They are asking for help in tracking him..” “I can track him easily.”  Mitsuhide turned to Nobunaga, awaiting his orders.

“You can’t track him in another land, Mitsuhide,” came Hideyoshi’s response, “Even you aren’t that talented.  Damn that thrice cursed cur for causing all this trouble!  Nobunaga-sama, let me lead men into the realm and we will bring him back for your justice.” “Hey, now,” Sirius interrupted, “Calm down.  We have armies, we need someone who knows the pirate to help us track him.  We don’t need more war on our hands.”

“I will *not* calm down.  Not while that lunatic pirate heathen is out there causing trouble.” “So you’re just going to make more trouble for everyone trying to stop his?  Great plan,” Ieyasu crossed his arms, watching Hideyoshi fume.

“If we’re sending people out to track, I can help,” Masamune said, “I got speed to go with Mitsuhide’s intelligence.  We’ll bring him back in no time.” “And probably with half your parts missing, too,” Ieyasu muttered to no one in particular. “I haven’t lost any yet!” “Care to adjust that eyepatch?  I think it’s blinding your good eye.” Nobunaga raised a hand, all bickering coming to a halt.  “I will send Mitsuhide and Masamune.”  He stood, intending on leaving the war council when a thought struck him, “You’ll take my lucky charm with you.  I can’t risk losing two of my best to this task.”

Meanwhile, in a tower, two men sat and discussed a possible alliance. “YOu are telling me you can rid me of both armies and all I have to do is give you lodgings?  You can’t be serious.” “I be perfectly serious.  I needs them in chaos as much as ye do.”

Amon sighed, moving a bishop across the board, “Then it seems I have little choice as you already ransacked much of our stash.  Where did you learn to fight like that?”

“A scallywag has t' throw away all th' rules o' fightin' if he hopes t' survive th' sea.  Thar be no honor outside o' yer crew among pirates.  Even then…”

And so it was that you, Masamune Date, and Mitsuhide Akechi found yourselves in Cradle.  It was a wonder to your eyes.  You’d read about the elaborate rose gardens of Europe, but nothing quite correctly encompassed what assaulted your senses.  The roses were perfectly red and bushes all but made a wall around you.  There was a large table, a red and black table cloth covering the wood.  You found other figures and a shocking sight. “Shingen-sama?!  Yukimura-kun?  And Sasuke-san?!” Yuki blanched but Shingen was quicker, “Ah, so they have acquired the aid of a goddess.  I do not have to worry so much about being out of my element, for surely we now have luck on our side.”

“Masamune,” a man whom Sirius had been speaking with while you gawked approached, “You will work with Luka and Fenrir, my jack and ace.  I’m told you make a rather formidable ace yourself.” Masa nodded his agreement to the team, moving to join them. “Luka, first we need to prepare rations for the search parties.  Fenrir, get the gear ready for them.  Masa can help with either.” “I’ll cook,” the one eyed dragon stated. “Roger that,” came Luka’s response. “On it,” Fenrir’s.

“Oh...I was told to give you this..” Ray lifted your hand, placing a small kiss in it.  This kiss was different than previous kisses, for this one’s wrapping was brown with lighter tan stripes.  A caramel Hershey’s kiss.  You glanced up confused and all Ray said was, “I don’t know.  I was just told to give it to you.  I’m sure you’ll find out why later.”

Parties split, each moving to their respective headquarters, leaving you to follow the black army somewhat helplessly.  You moved from the garden to a place called Central Quarter and from there to the Black Army Bridge.

You, however, didn't get to cross it.  An arm shot out, your mouth covered as you were dragged away.  In an alley, figures in white examined you.  They seemed to be confirming something before a flash of light found you in a new place.

“I did warn ya nah t' let me catch ye, once, seamstress.”  Your eyes widened as you met Motonari’s.

“How did you even get here?”  You had a million questions but you had to keep calm, buy time, the others would find you, right?  In that time, you needed to get Motonari to spill all you could get from him. “Doors don't jus' open one sided, seamstress,” Motonari said, “When th' scallywag wit' th' thin cutlass sliced th' world, I jus' stepped into his side o' it.”

You pressed more, trying to ask where you were, who the people in robes were, but Motonari was done with talking.  He held up a bag that you recognized.

“Wha' th' heck are these?  th' metal be lame 'n doesn't make decent bullets, but th' brown stuff underneath be too soft fer anythin'.”

“They’re...kisses…” you said, weakly, realizing what your task was going to wind up being.

He eyed the bag, questioning your sanity or education regarding displays of affection.  It was a familiar conversation.

“Strange thin' t' call these.  But I didn' make 'em so I don't much care.  Take 'em.”

You shook your head, realizing what you had to do.  “You can’t just thrust them at someone.  There’s an order to things.”  You removed the caramel kiss from your kimono, holding it out to him. “It’s diff’rent.” He took the sweet and you leaned, kissing his jaw.  Motonari’s entire body went stiff at the touch, the man turning into an almost human statue.  Moving back you held out your hand. “Now you can give me one kiss.  That’s it.”

Motonari eyed you in shock.  He silently took a kiss from the bag, flicking it at you.  You caught it, almost fumbling trying to hold onto it.  You closed your eyes, waiting for the kiss but none came.

Opening your eyes, you found him smirking at you.  “Didn' realize ye were that way fer me..”  He took the bag, placing the whole thing in your hands.  Your hands holding the bag, he took the opportunity to seize your face in his own.  “Now, where's me kisses?” His mouth pressed against yours, his tongue already invading.  It was passionate, him breaking on occasion to nip and lick, before pressing his lips to yours again.  You moaned at the attention before he finally parted.

“Was that a bag's worth o' kisses?”  You stared at Motonari, nodding in response.

The tower rumbled, panicked voiced filling the areas around you.  Motonari took your hand, both of you leaving as the world seemed to stretch and strain against some chaotic movement.  You traveled to the garden, through the tear and back into the woods that Motonari had once occupied.  You panted, catching your breath, and glanced back to the pirate, only for him to cover your eyes.

“Don't stare at me anymore wit' those eyes.  They look too deep.  I don't like that.  Go galleon.  Ye're nah far from th' Oda.” You stumbled home, finding everyone had made it safe.  The rips in the world had been repaired, everyone back where they belonged.  You, though, found yourself staring again at the forest where a pirate seemed a little honest to you.

“Huh...bag’s worth, indeed, Motonari.”

“Sugar?” “Of course.” “How much?” Shingen grinned answering that he’d take a typical amount.  This earned him a chuckle as Blanc suggested two for starters.  Of course, Blanc preferred four sugars and milk with his tea, but it seemed Shingen was new to this style of taking tea.  Handing Shingen a cup, Blanc set about making his own.

Shingen’s hand reached for a puffed ball on the table, examining it with interest, “We have round dangos, but this is-” he tapped the pastry, little flakes crumbling under his finger, “is more like a fried bread.  Is fried bread that good?” Again, the pale man smiled, taking one of the cream puffs himself, “I haven’t fried bread, so I wouldn’t know.  A cream puff, though, is more like a filled pie ball.”  He took a bite, his pink eyes on his guests all the while.  He turned, showing the white cream that filled the ball.  “They are quite sweet.  I made them, myself.” “In that case,” Shingen’s eyes crinkled as he watched Blanc watching him take a bite.  Shingen all but moaned as a sugary explosion filled his mouth.  Blanc lips curled, his eyes lowering to pluck a tea biscuit from a plate, pleased with his efforts.

Shingen also picked up his tea, sipping the hot liquid gingerly.  He preferred sake himself, but who could have turned down such an invitation from such a curious creature the likes which sat in front of him.  When the dainty man first appeared before Shingen, he almost took his delicate features for a woman and when Blanc didn’t seem averse to his words, Shingen was more than willing to explore more of the man’s mysteries.  

As for Blanc, it was rare for Blanc to allow himself the indulgence of self interest, but as Shingen was not part of this world, nor was he connected to its struggles as Alice the Second was, he didn’t see the  harm in entertaining a moment’s selfishness this time.  Shingen himself seemed quite an easy fellow and calm fellow, providing Blanc a kind of peaceful quiet that also provided great distraction.  After all, one could not exactly ignore a man as large as Shingen and his flirtatious demeanor was sure to draw one’s attention.  An excellent way to pass time, if Blanc did say so himself.

“This tea is quite nice,” Shingen mentioned, taking another sip, “I had no idea that you could flavor tea with more than simple honey.  Rather divine.” “It’s a simple black tea, but you do flatter me.”  Blanc’s white lashes fluttered as he gave Shingen a coy look, “I do prefer sweetened milk with my tea myself.  Perhaps you’d like to try?”  He extended his hand, indicating Shingen’s cup.  The man complied, handing his cup and saucer to Blanc.  “It is customary for the host to serve the tea and snacks.  But I’ll make an exception just for you, since you’ve never had these sweets.”  Blanc’s eyes closed slightly, his smile making them smaller.

Shingen took the milk tea, bringing it to his lips, “Much like Chanyou.”  He took a sip, sighing in bliss as the sweet liquid warmed his belly, “Perhaps, if the universe permits, I shall treat you to a tea ceremony with me as a host.”  This earned the warlord a soft huff in response, Blanc’s coy smile facing Shingen’s welcoming one head on. “Perhaps…” was all Blanc responded before, his pink gaze lowered as he set to filling Shingen’s plate with more sweets.  His tone had turned somewhere between nostalgic and promising and it left a small bittersweet taste on his tongue.  One that Blacn was determined to get rid of with the army of sugar before the two of them. They sat in companionable silence a while, each thinking their own thoughts as they drank and partook in the confectionaries before them.  The silence was filled with their own contemplation, but the air remained light and clear.  Almost as if the presence of the other with no expectations helped keep things from traversing too deep into the realm of the other’s darknesses.  Either way, it was nice to have a break from the world for a while.

Shingen broke the silence first, “Are you not worried what Motonari might be up to?” “Of course.” “And yet you are here with me.” “So I am.” They glanced at each other a moment, Shingen sipping his tea, “Not that I’m not grateful for the respite.  I am just curious and in a foreign realm.” “Ah…” Blanc’s eyes turned sad for a brief moment, “it is not my place to meddle in the affairs of this world…”  He trailed off, Shingen nearly regretting his question until Blanc asked, “And what of you?  You are also here with me.” Shingen nodded, “I believe Kenshin will handle the fights well enough.  My only goal is Nobunaga.  I am, after all, a dead man.”  He gave a rueful smile, Blanc nodding in understanding. “It seems, then.  We are suited quite well to each other,” Blanc’s voice was low and soft. “So it does.” A voice interrupted the pair, surly and dour at the events he apparently saw unfolding, “Was it really necessary to do this here, puff for brains?”  Oliver had entered the living room, eyeing the tea for two, sniffing slightly, “It is interrupting my concentration.  Tracking devices with crystals are hard if you don’t have an aura of your target.”

Blanc smiled, apologizing lightly and Oliver rolled his eyes. “Oliver,” Blanc continued to smile, “Did you want to join us for tea?” “No,” Oliver protested, making a face, “I got work to do.  Just...keep it down.”  With that, he walked away. Blanc chucked, looking back to his companion of the day, “It seems dear Oliver is jealous that I am not enjoying tea with him.” “Oh?  Is that what jealousy looks like?”  Shingen’s voice had turned somewhat sultry. “Oh…” Blanc gave an almost giggle behind his hand, “It isn’t that form of jealousy, I’m sure.  Oliver just has trouble making friends.”  His amusement calmed down and Blanc resumed watching his newfound mate, “Now...let us enjoy our tea as before.  Now that Oliver is tracking that person -Motonari you said?- you can relax again.  Unless your Kenshin gets to him first.” Shingen took a drink, his face turning almost dramatic in response, “Let us hope young Oliver gets to him first.” In another room, a voice could be heard, “I am *not* young.”

You sat up, stretching your arms above your head, working the last vestiges of sleep from your system.  You glanced, seeing light from outside bathing your quarters in a golden glow.  “A pretty day,” you mused, “I wonder what I’ll be doing today.”

SUDDENLY

The room seemed to warp as a tear appeared in the fourth wall, a figure decked in white stepping forth.  He gave a bow, a gloved hand moving towards his chest in an elegant flourish.

“Pardon me,” he said, his face all smiles as emerald eyes glimmered at you, “My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to bring you this.”  He reached into nowhere and pulled out a bag, handing it to you, stating, “I was told that this will bring joy to this day.”  With that, he stepped back into the tear he had created, and brandishing a rapier, used the tip to zip up the tear, leaving your room just as it was before his appearance.

(That...was odd) You glanced down at the bag he’d given you, turning it over to read the label, “Hershey’s….” you murmured, utterly confounded.  (He said it’d be joy...I think I should take this with me)  You stood and dressed, tucking the bag of chocolatey goodness into your bag.

Walking the halls, it wasn’t long before you found a member of the new family you had been blessed with for your Sengoku stay.

“Mornin’, lass,” his easy voice greeted you with a grin.  You smiled and greeted him back, your treat bag scrunching as you moved into your formal bow.  “Whatcha got in there?”

“Oh,” you paused, opening the noisy purse a little, showing him the candy bag underneath, “I was given this.”  You decidedly did not mention who or how said this was given.  “It’s to bring joy to this day,” you offered cheerfully.

His brow quirked as he examined the contents of your purse, “How’s that, lass?”

You smiled, reaching into the bag, and pulled out one of the teardrop pieces, “The village I come from, they’re called ‘kisses’.”

Masamune nabbed the small bit of Hershey’s from your fingers, examining the shiny wrapping.  “Lass,” Masamune’s voice sounded disappointed but patient, almost like he was explaining a concept to a stubborn child, “this isn’t a kiss.”  He leaned forward, his singular eye glittering as the cat-eyed the mouse, “Let me demonstrate a kiss-”

Your hands were up, pushing his face away, “No.  Nope nope nope nope.  Not gonna do it.”  Masaume frowned down at you, miffed you spoiled his opening, “They’re called kisses, not because of that, but because they’re small ‘kisses of chocolate.’  You eat them.”

Masamune eyed the chocolate, then you, and said, “Your village sounds stranger and stranger, kitten.”  

“No, wait!  You have to unwrap the foil off them first!”  You cried, the image of Masamune eating aluminum.  Masamune looked at the alien food again a moment longer.  An idea struck him, then.  He grinned then, snagging your purse, and the Kisses, from your unprepared hand.  The sapphire storm was halfway out of sight, calling behind him, “Thanks for the kisses.  I’ll put them to good use, lass.”

(Th-that…..one eyed dragon!  Wait...Good use?) You took off after him, ready to call a protest, and rounded the corner finding two more warlords.

“Look at her,” the blond one stated, his eyes full of what you had come to realize was mock awe, “Just charges on without looking.  How are you still alive?”

“You shouldn’t run in the halls,” Hideyoshi chided.  

Your eyes frantically found Masamune, watching you from his sparkly orb.  “Hey, Hideyoshi,” he called, “got something for ya.”

Hideyoshi frowned, “You sound like Mitsuhide.  First, tell me what it is?”

Masamune’s face looked about the same as when he hit the battlefield.  (That face doesn’t bode well…)  “It’s from the lass.  Got enough for everyone.” (Ok...that’s...not so bad.  But I don’t think Hideyoshi will take to sweets)

Hideyoshi’s gaze turned towards you, eagerness almost surfacing before he snuffed it down deep, “Alright.  If it’s from the Princess, I won’t refuse.”  Masamune placed a drop in Hideyoshi’s waiting hand, leaving the latter warlord to look at it in confusion.  “What is that?”

“It’s this,” Masamune responded, grabbing the other warlord and pressing his lips to Hideyoshi’s.  Your eyes nearly fell from your head as you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.  Hideyoshi’s expression practically mirrored yours, his lids wide open and shock freezing him a moment before he forcefully shoved Masamune away.

“MASAMUNE, HOW DARE-”

Masamune had already moved, his aim the grouch whose proverbial jaw landed on the floor.  As soon as he realized the warlord of Oshu was gaining on him, he shook his head, “Don’t even think about i-”

Masamune chucked the snack at Ieyasu, the latter’s movements shifting immediately to catch it, leaving him entirely open.  Masamune used the distraction and his larger size and seized Ieyasu in a kiss of his own. Muffled protests met your ears and the kiss was suddenly over.  

“I am rubbing poison ivy on your bandages from now on!”

You ran between the two fuming men, shouting apologies, but couldn’t stay to explain as the veritable tiger man was already prowling for his next victim.

(Oh no...Mitsunari...run…) You pleaded, your tongue apparently no longer working in the current state of affairs.

“Good morning Masamune-sama,” the cheerful voice greeted.  “Oh, and Hideyoshi-sama, too.”  Mitsunari bowed to his lord.  “Ah, Ieyasu-sama, good mor-”

“It is certainly NOT a good morning,” el porcupine announced, “and you should run before THAT menace does something you can’t understand.”

“Understand?”  Mitsunari blinked.

“Got something for ya.”

Mitsunari held out his hand, all innocence and smiles, and received his present.  “Oh-” was all he got out before Masamune lips were on his.  Mitsunari didn’t move, the kiss ending and Mitsunari’s nervous laughter filling the hall.  “Oh dear, Masamune-sama.”

“Masamune,” Hideyoshi strode, “what is the meaning of all this?”

“Ask her,” Masamune thumbed your direction and started laughing, “she said she had these things.  They’re kisses that you eat.”

Eyes blinked and you shuffled feeling a bit on the spot.  “They’re kisses of chocolate…” you murmured, bashful.

“How do you eat a kiss?  Do you use your teeth?”  Mitsunari pondered.

“You’re special, you know that?” Ieyasu muttered.

“Nah, that’s biting.  It’s like kissing, but there’s a winner,” Masamune answered the angel in purple.  

Hideyoshi snorted at that, “Ok, but why are you running around assaulting everyone?”

“Because, I told you,” Masamune answered as if it were 100% sane and sensible, “she has kisses for everyone.  So I’m giving you kisses.”  Groans met him.

“Who is giving who kisses?” A low voice interrupted.  Everyone turned, finding the snowy-haired warlord viewing the spectacle with amusement.

“I am,” Masamune announced, taking Mitsuhide’s hand to press a chocolate into it.  Mitsuhide didn’t even look at the item before Masa’s mouth was firmly against his own.  Hideyoshi fought, Ieyasu protested, Mitsunari just took it, all the while Mitsuhide seemed to be studying, and you were faint with a weird sense of either hysteria or giddiness, you weren’t sure.

Masamune backed off and found Mitsuhide’s watching him in quiet bemusement.  “Kisses you say,” Mitsuhide brought the confection up to examine, “well, allow me to return your gift.”  Mitsuhide nabbed Masamune and both found themselves locked in embrace again, Masa grunting in surprise but offering no resistance.

“Mitsuhide,” Hideyoshi interjected, clearly about to announce he was done with the nonsense, “don’t encourage him!  We have to attend a war council.”

The M’s parted, but Masa pressed the chocolate to Mitsuhide’s chest once more, snagging another peck before sauntering away, “No takebacks!”

“Ugh,” Ieyasu pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’ve got three headaches and all are M’s…”

“Least he’ll be on time for today’s meeting,” Hideyoshi grumbled.  (Silver linings, I suppose)

The meeting was like all meetings, much of it worrying you, scaring you, and then going over your head.  It was easy to tune it out to contemplate your own issues, like getting home, Sasuke, did you still have a job waiting for you.

“That sounds like the best strategy,” Nobunaga was saying, you almost going back to your thoughts when he gave the ending question, “Anything else we need to discuss?”

(Yay, meeting’s over!)

“I have something,” Masamune proclaimed.  Velvety blue turned to stare at you and your heart sank.

(Oh.  My.  God.  No...we’re all gonna die…)

You were trying not to heave as Masamune reached into that accursed bag, “I have a gift for you, my lord.”

Cinnamon eyes warmed in anticipation, “There is no ceremony that demands a gift to me.” (Yes, Nobunaga, tell him no!)  “But,” your heart fell somewhere beneath the floorboards (If only my ceiling ninja could be under the floor to save me!), “I will not deny a present from my subject.”  He held out his hand, expectantly.

Masamune moved close, placing the foil-wrapped item into Nobunaga’s hand.  Nobunaga glanced at it, dubiously.  “What’s this?”

Masamune looked almost as evil as the devil himself as he went for the kill-I mean kiss.  He tilted his head, fitting his mouth fully over the devil king’s and the entire room seemed to explode into action.  

“How dare you assault our lord, Masamune!”

“I always knew you were suicidal…”

“So how is this eating kisses?”

“I will miss him so.”

Your lungs constricted, but Nobunaga seemed to just go with the impromptu makeout session, his eyes open as he examined the One-Eyed Madman.  

Masamune backed away, Nobunaga carnelian orbs assessing his general, “That was a brave move, Date Masamune.”  You held your breath, praying to anyone listening that Masamune not die or be horribly maimed today.  After all, this was the man that beat a maid over a stick and killed a man over rice.  “But that doesn’t answer the question of what this is.”

Masamune smirked, “According to the lass it does.”  Six men were suddenly staring at you and you were sure your whole body was probably red.  “She calls them kisses.  So I gave you a kiss.”

“This is not a kiss, Masamune.”  Nobunaga held up the sweet.

“I told her.  I’ve been spending the day showing her what kisses are.”

“Is THAT why you’ve assaulted everyone today?”  Hideyoshi’s outburst went ignored.

Nobunaga’s gaze bored holes into your very soul and set it on fire.  “My lucky charm really doesn’t know what a kiss is?”  He smiled then and you knew you were entirely done for if something didn’t happen, quick.

“They’re…” your words were breathy and you were light-headed, this whole fiasco turning you sheepish, “called chocolate kisses.  Because it’s like a kiss of milk chocolate.”

“Come,” that singular command.  You did your best not tremble as you approached the dais.  Nobunaga shifted, leaving his cushion to pull you up, settling you onto the vacated spot.  Warmth seeped in through your knees from the previous occupant.  Fingers grabbed your chin, forcing your head upward.  His head drew near, while his hand moved to grab your, placing something small into it.  

Your mind barely registered that he’d given you the chocolate kiss Masamune had previously awarded before Nobunaga’s lips sealed over your own.  You gave a questioning, “mmph.” Your eyes wide, but surprise had you unable to move.  

His kiss ended, leaving you flustered all over.  “Well, for treating Masamune to all these kisses for him to spread,” Nobunaga announced, gesturing to the others, “Everyone who has received a kiss in her honor now gets a chance to return the favor.  You all may approach.”

Of course, Masa was first, “Since I got the first kiss…” Masamune didn’t finish, lips snagging yours even as the denial that he was given that type of kiss could even fully rise from your throat.  It was rough, just like the man giving it, and you could feel his teeth pressing into you before he withdrew.  He grinned at you, and you swore if he had two eyes, one would wink at you.

Ieyasu came second, “Don’t get me wrong.  I’m just getting this over with.”  Ieyasu’s kiss trailed over your top lip, then your bottom, before taking you full-on, leaving you to whimper in its wake.  When it was over, jade stared at you, a smirking triumph gracing Ieyasu’s features as he stepped away.

Hideyoshi followed suit, “As my lord commands.”  When his tongue probed, you opened your mouth, your logic far far away -probably jettisoned 500 years into the future at this point- leaving you to just revel in all of it.  The hot appendage traced over the roof of your mouth, your moan low and guttural.  (I knew he was a ladies’ man, but holy cats he’s a great kisser).  You almost fell over as Hideyoshi left, his own cheeks ruddy as he whispered something your ears couldn’t catch.

Mitsunari stepped up, his visage about the same shade as you were certain yours was.  “Please accept this,” he bowed formally, his lips ghosting over your own.  Sensations lit your senses on fire as his tongue traced your shape.  That tease was all you got before he backed away, “Please excuse me…”

A silver fox was all that was left.  His lips were shaped in what could only be called utter glee as he observed your discomforts.  “Don’t think that I’ll go easy on you just because everyone got to tease you today, Princess.”  You closed your eyes, giving a soft whine of you weren’t quite sure you were going to allow yourself to identify what emotion as Mitsuhide closed in on you.  The scene behind your eyelids darkened as he moved close, warmth pressing to your forehead.  (Oh thank goodness…)  Mitsuhide gave a soft grunt of mirth and Mitsuhide was gone.

You were moving to also leave when a heavy hand fell on your shoulder.  Oda Nobunaga held up the Hershey’s Kiss to your eyes and you realized  (oh no...he stuck it in his mouth).  He demanded, “How are you supposed to eat this?”

Your voice was weak, all the roller coaster of the day leaving you in a state of odd euphoria as you answered, “You’re...supposed to take the foil...off.”

And that, Sasuke, is how I wound up being kissed by six warlords.

“Your intense face tells me the news from Azuchi is serious,” Shingen all but purred, the idea that his great enemy was in a bind filling him with joy.

“His army marches, then?  We are going to war?”  Kenshin, smiled as well, stroking the sword that scarce left his side.

“Sasuke,” Yukimura called, “Hey Sasuke.  You aren’t answering…”

The green ninja in question’s face was unreadable, as always, leaving the other three to question incessantly as he stared at the letter you had sent him.  He stood, excusing himself before leaving the room, Yukimura close behind.

“What’s gotten into him?”

“The army is marching, Tiger.  It’s the only time he gets like this,” Kenshin pouted, “Why must I have such a war hating ninja?”

“Oi, Sasuke!”  Sasuke stopped, still saying nothing, but allowed his friend to catch up to him.  “What’s wrong with you?  Boar woman hurt?  She finally charge headlong off a cliff?  She decide to come here or something?”

Sasuke handed him the letter, the red warrior reading it over.

“If I had only known it would have taken chocolate to win over Ieyasu,” Sasuke whispered.

Yuki didn’t hear. Instead, his brows furrowed in confusion, “The warlords ate her?!  How do you eat kisses??”

All of a sudden, the world seemed to warp, a point of a rapier piercing as if from behind a screen.  The blade moved downward, sliding a neat slice into the scenery.  A gentleman decked in white stepped into the courtyard Sasuke and Yukimura stood in.  He gave an elegant bow, smiled, and said, “Pardon me.  My name is Edgar and I have been commanded to bring you this.”  His hands reached into nothing and pulled a bag into existence.  Handing it to Sasuke, he continued, “I am pleased to hear that joy has been brought earlier today.  I will now bestow the same to you, to bring joy to your day.”  And with that, he stepped back into the hole in reality, using his blade to seal the cut he had previously created, leaving the world as perfect as before his arrival.

“What the…” Yukimura had his weapon out, but with no enemy to attack and the stranger completely gone, he seemed at a loss on what to do next.

Sasuke held up the bag, reading aloud, “Hershey’s kisses.”  The light of the sun reflected off his glasses, making his already indiscernible face impossible to decipher.

“Hershey...kisses?”  Yuki parroted.  He looked at the bag, seeing the small chocolates inside.  He reread over the letter, realization dawning.  “Hey, Sasuke…”

“Yeah.”

“.....You’re not giving me one of those.”

---------~~-----

Writer, what did I just read?

……...crack

Writer, why is Edgar here?

Well, you see...I figured I was gonna have to shoehorn why and how the kisses survived...why not really shoehorn the plot in.

Ok, but why Edgar?

Cuz he’s the most likely one to have Hershey’s Kisses

But he can’t cut through canons like that

Yeah he can...there’s a thing...during the anniversary.  Loki did too

….Fine.

^.^

Are you gonna write a Sasuke sequel?  I wanna see if Sasuke kisses Kenshin!

Well, you see...about that...LOOK, A DISTRACTION!

“Pardon me.  My name is Edgar and I have been commanded…”

(Now...what am I supposed to do with that??!)  You stared at the smirking fox.  Your insides were buzzing with nervous flustering and you weren’t sure you were going to survive this challenge of his.  (Honestly...this man...th-this...FOX)

And still he stared while your mental faculties fired in a panicked uproar.  (Is this what Sasuke feels like when he’s meeting with Ieyasu?)  You were certain your synapses were frying as a comet of energy was spelling out your imminent doom.

Snowy lashes lowered but his smile never changed, “Now.  I shall leave you.  I look forward to your results.”  And before you could even think to respond in kind, he was gone.  (Oh lord...what do I do?)  You found yourself moseying back to the castle, unaware that your visage reflected all the abject horror of your intended task.

“Dummy, what do you look so afraid of?”  You glanced up, finding green staring at you from a puff of fluffy blond locks, “Your face looks like Wasabi’s when she hears even the slightest sounds.”  His complaint was not lost on you.  (I do NOT look like a deer in headlights….do I?)

“What did you see?”  Hideyoshi’s voice was all concern, his hand already moving to his sword, staring at the offending whatever behind you.  “I’ll make the call to search the perimeter.  What did the intruder look like?” 

“N-no...nothing like that,” you waved your hands, feeling entirely too silly now that you got the concern of Azuchi’s mother warlord over something so silly as teasing Mitsuhide, “It’s just…”

“...Just…?” Hideyoshi prodded, his brows knit in a way that meant that someone was probably getting cuffed later.  That someone probably already smirking in the knowledge that said cuffing is most likely coming for him.  You started to feel bad for the slickest man in the Sengoku.  (this is why I can’t tease him…)

“Hey, Hideyoshi and Ieyasu,” you started, clapping your hands together in a pleading gesture, “what kinds of things does Mitsuhide dislike?”

“THAT’s what your stupid expression is for?”  Ieyasu was incredulous, at best.  You tried to smile, explaining that Mitsuhide’s birthday was coming and the challenge that he’d given you for his birthday wish.

“I’m not sure that guy dislikes anything,” Hideyoshi said, his profile still all one hundred percent seriousness.  His statement was followed by a muttered, “Except, maybe, honesty…”

You deflated.  It truly seemed you were given the impossible task.  You thanked that warlords, assuring Hideyoshi once more that nothing was amiss, save Mitsuhide’s birthday.

(I could feed him something bitter...oh wait...he doesn’t have taste buds, really.  I could make him a gaudy outfit...then again, he’d probably wear it and tell everyone just who made it...my Sengoku career would be ruined…) You ticked off and promptly shot down every idea that hit your head as you walked.  (If I could get close enough, I have hair chalk to turn his hair pink...IF I could get close enough...Maybe slip something into his sake, like he does Masamune?.....No, he’d catch on to that too quickly and turn it on me…)

You were still thinking when something warm and both soft and hard met your nose.  “Hey kitten,” the owner of the soft, warm, and also hard body all but purred at you, “keep walking like that and you’re going to have a very short life.”

Lifting your head, you were met with one amused sapphire eye.  Apologizing, you stepped back, Masamune making no move to put additional space between the two of you.  Instead, he grinned at you, “What’s got our lass looking so far away for?  Is he any good?”

You tried to ignore that, but your ears burned with heat anyway.  You looked away, attempting to compose yourself, “Hey, Masamune,” you finally muttered a greeting.

“Yo,” came the reply.  You glanced again, Masamune still smiling as if the world were little more than the greatest roller coaster ride.  “So, what’s got you looking the way my soldiers do when they’re about to spar against me?”

When you told him of Mitsuhide’s birthday wish, he laughed.  You were probably sure people in the town heard the volume of his mirth at your predicament.  (Thanks for the vote of confidence, my dude.)

“Sorry, sorry,” his apology was filled with barely controlled chuckles.  Your cheeks were so hot you were sure you could scorch something with them.  “Getting that guy is gonna be hard.  But I like this idea.  Whatcha got in mind, kitten?”

Now, there was the caveat, “Um...I can’t think of anything.  Is there anything he dislikes?”

“Yeah,” Masamune all but snorted, his eye full of amused concern for his fellow warlord, “his health.” “...I don’t think I can work with that…” you laughed back.

Masamune adjusted his pose, his mug taking on a look of contemplation, “I think the only thing Mitsuhide probably dislikes is being beaten at his own game…” Masamune commented.  

(Of course.  Now, let’s find out how to tackle such a task, mm?)  You chose not to say that out loud.

“Think he’d go for a sword fight?  I bet I could take him,” Masamune was busy musing away.

“You could,” you pointed out, “But I’m the one that’s supposed to be trying to beat him.”

“Hmm,” Masamune seemed to analyze you, “good point, lass.  But I’ll admit I’d pay to see you take him on.”

He reached, patting your head before walking away, “Whatever you come up with, kitten, will be good.  I’m sure he’ll appreciate anything you give him for his birthday.”  And with that cryptic statement, the whirlwind known as the One-Eyed Dragon had disappeared.

You sighed and went to your room.  Maybe you could make him a consolation haori if you couldn’t think of anything else.  You went fishing for your sewing notions, suddenly wishing you had the plush fabric you used to make Bearsace.  You searched your bag, looking for the picture you’d taken of the masterpiece, Nobunaga having taken the original.  Your hands found a rectangular object and you pulled it out, surprised when you found yourself staring at a package of sweets.

Your mind traveled 500 years into the future where this biscuit treat originated.  Recalling how people used them for everything from alternate candy cigarettes to cute romantic games.  You smiled at the nostalgia the oblong box had given you.  You remembered young couples, sneaking each other little moments of PDA using the little sticks.

(The Pocky Game….OMG THAT’S IT!) 

You hugged the precious pink box to your chest, elated that you had it.  Mitsuhide would never see it coming…(or he probably will but that’s not going to stop me!  Ok, but how are we gonna do that?  You gonna assault him?  That’ll be the day)  A deviant smile appeared as proverbial horns grew from your head (No...I’m gonna do this…)

“You realize every year Hideyoshi does the same and he never attends,” cinnamon orbs stared at you and you did everything you could not to shuffle while they bored holes into you, “what makes you think this will be different?  Because you’re doing it?”

“No...because…” you did your best to show a placating smile, “you’re going to?”

“Oh?”  his brow arched and you thought to yourself just how handsome the Fool of Owari was.  Too bad a fox snatched you a long time ago.  “I gather you have some sort of plan for this occasion that I’m not yet aware of?”

You told him your idea.  Of everyone in this era, only Nobunaga was privy to the details of where you came from and how you ended up in this wartorn era.  You discussed what Pocky was and the game that you could play with the cookie-esque treat.  You even showed him the unopened box so he could see the confectionary in question.

He smiled, The Devil King’s horns probably matching your own.  “Hoh, I think I like this idea.  BUT…” his features turned serious and your heart nearly dropped into the floor, “I demand these pocky as payment”

(WHAT, NO!) You panicked, “B-but!  I need them for the game!”

Nobunaga smirked, looking boyish and you were sure many a maid and warrior fell for it every single time, “But you only need one, right?  For the game, you said?  Did I hear wrong?”

The question set off warning bells in your head, “N-no…” you conceded to the first unifier, “But if you take them, I won’t have them for the party…” you tried to argue.  You already knew at this point, trying to win over Oda Nobunaga was futile, but dammit you needed this for your plan!

“Don’t worry about that, fireracker,” the man assured, raising the box in what could only be called schadenfreude which made you very very worried, “you’ll have your game with Mitsuhide.  I will handle everything.  You may go.”

You stepped out, your mind reeling.  It was great that Mitsuhide’s lord was on your side, but what did that devil man plan to do?  (How is it that I went to the devil for the sake of outsmarting the fox?)  Alas, there was nothing you could do for the moment but wait and see what Nobunaga had in store for Mitsuhide’s special event.

The answer came in the form of a missive the day of Mitsuhide’s birthday.  You read it, almost cackling at the contents, “Ok sir.”

You found the birthday boy walking the halls, “Mitsuhide, can you come with me?”

He arched his brow but agreed to come.  You were sure by the look on his face that he was expecting some great prank.  What he got instead…

“SURPRISE!”

“I was misinformed of a war council today,” Mitsuhide was saying, his body already moving to excuse himself.

“NOT SO FAST,” you cried, holding up the weapon Nobunaga had given you.  “Today, Akechi Mitsuhide, I am determined to make you stay and enjoy your birthday.  As chatelaine, I have that authority.”  You beamed in triumph.

The celebration went by, Masamune serving food and Hideyoshi trying to control the sweets intake.  People chatted and drink flowed.  And yet…

Mitsuhide sat in his own lonely place, quietly taking in his sake.  (Well, we can’t be having that!)  You were about to move towards him when you remembered, (oh yeah...Nobunaga took my coup de grâce)  Your gaze traveled to the red gems, only to find they were watching you too.  As if on some unspoken cue, Nobunaga called for you, “Come, chatelaine, pour me a drink!”  

You took your place next to Nobunaga, pouring him some sake.  You dared a glance at the hall, finding golden eyes watching you.  Your heart sank at that, knowing that despite your plan to get him to enjoy his birthday and give him a special piece of your world, that Nobunaga’s command sadly had to come first.  

“Look at him. Notice he’s watched you all night?” Nobunaga was murmuring, his voice and countenance every inch the warlord he was.  You didn’t dare look at Mitsuhide again, but you shook your head anyway, noting that his mask was always unreadable to you.  Nobunaga huffed, “He always watches people, but he’s never so obvious about it.  I would know, he’s been with me for a long time.”  You glanced at the Lord of Azuchi, wondering what he was getting at.  

He slipped something out of his robes, a pink frosted stick was then placed between his lips as he looked at you.  (Oh no….nonononono...that was meant for him.  Mayday mayday) Your eyes widened at the man as he ridiculously smirked around the stick.

“Let’s see about this game of yours,” Nobunaga looked at you expectantly and you had to work really hard not to let the pricks in your vision lead to actual tears.  You leaned forward, nipping a small piece of the pocky, your eyes never leaving his all to smug ones.  You took a second nip, then a third, almost to his lips.

“Nobunaga-sama!” Hideyoshi cried.  (Is it bad I’m disappointed it’s him that stopped this?  Though...I *am* glad it stopped…) You and Nobu turned, a tiny bit of pocky still sticking out of his mouth.  “I know that’s a sweet.  Please, my lord, your health…” You felt so bad for the poor man always having to worry over everyone.  (It’s likened to being the mother of five unruly children.)

“How do you know it’s a sweet, Hideyoshi?” Came the challenging question.

Hideyoshi blanched, “Mitsuhide mentioned it.  He lied, didn’t he?  That son of a-”

“He’s not wrong,” Nobunaga was saying, the final bit of the baked good disappearing as he chewed thoughtfully.  “Though, konpeito is sweeter.  This wasn’t so bad.”  His eyes found yours while butterflies did a number in your stomach, “I thank you for these.  Your payment.”  He handed you a singular stick and you took it with numb fingers, nodding to the man.  “I believe a certain someone is waiting.”

With that, you strode towards the someone in question.  You didn’t dare look up while you walked, unsure you wanted to see what Mitsuhide’s face might say.  You sat next to the silver fox, staring far too hard at the cup set that had mysteriously appeared.  (Why does he have two cups if he’s drinking alone?)

“Little seamstress,” he voice brought you out of your reverie, “if you stare any harder at the china, I will have to replace it.  Hideyoshi will throw a fuss.  It’ll be quite amusing, but I fear for anything else you might set that scary look on.”

You looked up, finding Mitsuhide uncharacteristically serious.  The man who could always smile was definitely not smiling at you.  Your heart hammered as you were struck dumb by what you were seeing.

The look was gone, the familiar smile settling in its place before you could even attempt to analyze it, “It is evening and my birthday is near over, Princess.”  His grin turned what you considered deadly when given to his enemies and yet your cheeks heated all the same.  “Where’s my birthday gift, hmm?  Or was your game with my lord my gift?  I admit, it was something to watch.”

(SHAAAAAAME) Your mind called and your hands shook.  (Now or never…) You tried to smile, sure you looked more like, how did Ieyasu put it, like Wasabi hearing uncertain noises?  You shook your head, denying Mitsuhide’s claim, “No…” you breathed, constricting lungs making normal speech impossible at this point, “my gift is...this!”

You stuck the stick in your mouth and all but dove for the man.  Your lips pushing the other end of the pocky into his with the force of your movements.  He own did open, which made you thankful (This would have been horrid if he didn’t open his mouth and the stick broke) but teeth had you stopping before the poor game could continue and you choked the poor guy (That’s ok...I can play this game too).

You pressed your advantage, taking bites all down the stick until warm wetness met your lips.  They didn’t return your kiss but you stayed there, just enjoying the feel of him.  Your world narrowed to the man in front of you so you didn’t hear the cheers that erupted in your moment.  You were sure you’d probably have died if you did. Eventually, though, you had to back away, sneaking in a glance to the Warlord of the Bellflower.  

His appearance...was not amused.  You winced, lowering your head.  (Did I go too far?  I should say something).  You were about to apologize when you were swept up by a nighttime storm.  “Ey, lass!”  Masamune cheered, pulling you to him, “Interesting game.  Wanna play with me?”  You hesitated, shaking your head, explaining you had no more sticks.  Masamune considered, “I’ll swipe one.  Gimme a minute.”

“You will not!”  Hideyoshi called and a cacophony of noise arose as warlords discussed your game, you kissing Mitsuhide, commentary on Mitsuhide’s mien, and Mitsuhide did seem to be a lot happier with you around.  Your whole body was surely scarlet at how the subject jumped from Masamune wanting to steal you away to suddenly Mitsuhide looking like a happier man.

You tried to look over to him, finding his spot empty.  (Where did…?)  You untangled yourself from Flirty McEyepatch and slipped out of the party.  You didn’t see where he’d gone and it took some wandering, but you found him outside, staring at the autumn leaves.

“Mitsuhide…” you called, feeling unsure.  His head turned towards yours, his expression careful and unreadable.  You approached, standing next to him.  The silence was awkward, so you turned your gaze towards the leaves, “The leaves finished turning…” you said.

“They are more vibrant,” came the reply.  You stood and just viewed the trees, the chill wind kicking up sparks of red and yellow to dance.

“I’m sorry,” you said after a moment.  “I’d thought a game like that would be perfect for you…” Thinking back, you decided that it had been silly and pushed boundaries.  Something you shouldn’t have done.  “I hadn’t meant to-”

Mitsuhide’s fingers pressed to your lips, making your words die before they could be uttered.  You flushed, looking up into topaz crystals.  Mitsuhide’s portrait had taken an intense edge to it, but you still couldn’t quite read what it was saying.  His thumb trailed across your mouth, making you whimper involuntarily.

“Congratulations,” Mitsuhide murmured, his voice blank and controlled, “I must say I did not expect that.”

His nail scraped over your already swollen bottom lip, drawing another low sound from you.  His facade didn’t change as his finger teased at you, almost as if he were experimenting with your reactions to the stimuli he’d placed on you.  You pursed, attempting to kiss the offending appendage, only for him to change tactics, his fingers not leaving your mouth, just you unable to snag him.

“I fell for your trap, little mouse,” he was quiet, but his voice held a low note of something you were too afraid to identify, “but what had you done if I had not agreed to come with you?  It would have been so disappointing for you to have failed.  You’ll need a better plan for the future.”

(Yeah...not sure I can pull that again…) You didn’t seem to fully catch his words, tone, and eyes but your heart fluttered all the same.  In answer to his question, you handed him the missive Nobunaga had sent to you.  Mitsuhide took it, his fingers leaving you cold where his absence was pointedly felt, and read the missive.

Akechi Mitsuhide.  You laid hands on the woman I found.  To answer for such a deed, I demand that you attend a celebration in honor of your birthday.  I am certain such an event is a punishment fit for you.  Do not dare defy me.

Mitsuhide’s vision found you again, clearly nonplussed.  You pressed your lips together, watching him carefully.

“I’ve laid my hands on you have I?” He said, his smiling slowly returning, “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”

His hands reached for your arms, capturing you effectively in their grip, and pulled you towards him.  He leaned in, your heart thrilling at what was to come.  You closed your lids, puckering up in excitement.

Warmth brushed your forehead leaving your lashes to flutter open in confusion.  A smirking kitsune met you, “Did you expect a kiss?  I’ll have to reserve that for next time.”  His head moved close to yours, his breath ghosting over your face, “If you understand, then please do as you wish every day and every birthday,” your heart hammered, “when you try and leave, I’ll just continue to capture you like this again and again, as always.”

You sat in your corner of the hut.  How long has it been since Kennyo took you hostage?  A week?  Two?  You tried counting and failed.  [How does Sasuke keep up so well with the tracking of time here?]  It didn’t really matter.  What mattered was the fact that you were still here.

Kennyo, for all his talk, did treat you fairly at least.  You weren’t sure if that eased the fear of being kidnapped from the Oda forces or not.  Not that you’d been entirely there by your own will in the first place.  The cosmos were just having quite the kick knocking you about, weren’t they?  But there was something about your current captor…

You were sure you could see it, just behind his midnight eyes.  That deep, gnawing pain.  You knew the story...sort of.  Of how Kennyo and his men stood against Nobunaga and subsequently were defeated.  You knew that no loss in war was ever easy, so of course you understood how the pain got there.  But...it was still there, and it still moved you to see it every time.  Perhaps that was why when Kennyo released your bonds you didn’t run.  You were getting confused.  [Getting attached isn’t the plan.  You are going home soon.  You can’t drown in those pain filled eyes.  Stop thinking about his eyes.  Or his face...H-hello, heart?]  You sighed.  It seemed you went from the devil’s palace to something far more complicated.

“I’m coming in,” a gravelly voice greeted from beyond the hut and speak of the Buddha, Kennyo entered.  He carried a bowl, something you’d come to associate with being meal time for you.  Kennyo didn’t eat with you, but he always sat and watched as you did.  Guess the demon has to make sure you get all your nutrition for the day.  You reached out, giving a quiet thanks, and took your food.  

“There is no need to thank me,” came your response.

It was familiar banter.  You’d thank him, and he’d either tell you not to thank your captor for keeping you alive, or questioning why you would thank your captor.  After all, he did kidnap you.  You sometimes argued back, but today your preoccupied thoughts with the eyes gazing down at you in equal mix of shame, pity, and something you couldn’t quite name made you mute as you looked down towards your food.  It looked like namasu would be your dinner for today.  You took the chopsticks, giving a soft, “itadakimasu,” and took to your meal. 

It wasn’t anything Gordon Ramsay would fawn over, but as Sengoku cuisines went, it was good to you.  The fish had been grilled and the warmth of it relaxed you.  The vegetables of the salad seemed to have come from around the forest.  Definitely not the salad one would get from Miyabian or anything, but it was filling all the same.  You ate in silence, Kennyo silently watching you in a way that had your heart pattering inside you.  [Stupid stupid brain.  You had to bring up those eyes and now the heart ran off.  This wasn’t in the plan.]  You closed your eyes, put down your bowl and chopsticks, signifying you were finished.  Perhaps he expected to get stabbed with chopsticks, but Kennyo never seemed to take anything from your hands while chopsticks were present in either of them.  

“Do you need more?”  He asked, standing and taking your bowl.  You shook your head in the negative.  

“It was filling, thank you.”  

“Why do you thank me?  Do you still not realize the situation you’re in?”

“You keep asking and I keep telling you that I do..”

“Then why?”

Kennyo’s eyes crinkled, the confusion evident in his expression.  There was a lot of why happening in that face.  Why haven’t you run?  Why haven’t you cried?  Why haven’t you tried to fight?  You were pretty sure he had you pegged on the last one.  After all, fighting wasn’t exactly a common occurence of the 21st century and apparently your ‘I’m not a warrior’ status showed.  

You dared a glance up, really taking in his expression.  It was painful, those beautiful dark orbs.  The scar bisecting his face had nothing to the pain those wondrous pools held.  The silence stretched as you two simply watched each other.

Eventually, he sighed, the moment broken as his face turned from yours.  He opened the hut, handing the bowl to someone outside with a muttered word.  The guard that had been apparently assigned to watch your hut hurried away.  You blinked, confused.  Was Kennyo letting you go?  

He didn’t really look at you, opening the door wider, the sunset spilling into your tiny space.  The last vestiges of summer glowing in the world beyond.  That meant it wasn’t long until the wormhole opened and all of a sudden, you weren’t sure anymore that you were ready for it to.

“Come,” he said, stepping out, “You need to exercise.  No harm will come to you.”

“Not that I ever believed you would…” you whispered as you stood.  You did feel a bit stiff, the last few days of being locked away needing to be worked out as you stretched a bit.  

Your comment did not go unnoticed, a grunt being your answer as you walked outside.  It was bright and still warm, the night not quite having taken the summer’s day away just yet.  The sun was a dark orange sphere on the horizon, the sky painted in pinks and purples that marked the time.  It was stunning and your heart fitted a little more as another warmth claimed your back, Kennyo having stepped out of the hut behind you.  [It’s so romantic…]

You were prodded eventually to move, breaking you of your romance addled daze.  Your cheeks burned as you hid your face, Kennyo leading the way.  You walked the camp, a circuit you’d grown used to as you’d had to exercise every so often during your stay in the Honnonji hostel.  This time, though, instead of tracing your way back after stopping by the training grounds, Kennyo stepped further.

A hand reached back, taking your hand gently but firmly.  It took everything you had to keep your heart where it belonged as Kennyo guided you into the trees beyond the camp.  You stared at his hand, yours being swallowed inside his grip.  [His fingers are longer than I thought they were...He has nice hands.  Big and worn...but long and strong also..]

You failed to keep track where you were going, or how long you’d been walking, but soon it was dark.  Not quite night, but trapped in that twilight phase, the first stars peeking through the trees in greeting.  Kennyo stopped walking, allowing you to finally take in the scenery.  

Trees cast long shadows, making the forest darker than the time said it was.  You could hear the crickets coming out to play their songs.  You could hear an owl somewhere above your head, your facing turning upwards to find the source that you knew you wouldn’t discover.  Wind brushed through your hair, the coolness of night finally coming to take her due.  If the sunset was romantic and beautiful, the night was mysterious and content.

Kennyo still held your hand, his other holding up a strange paper tube with a handle you hadn’t realized he carried all the way out here.  He knelt, his hand still grasping yours and set the item down to strike his flint against a rock he’d found on the ground.  The small flame came alive and Kennyo moved it to the small wick inside, creating a small lantern’s glow.  It looked for all the world like a paper and bamboo gando lantern.  [Sasuke would thrill at seeing that here].  You were mesmerized at the small makeshift flashlight Kennyo had created.

“Are you tired?”  He asked.  You shook your head, now thoroughly curious what the monk had planned.  You continued to move deeper, the small glow forcing you to giggle at the small Slender references you knew the big man in front of you wouldn’t understand.  He glanced behind you, clearly having caught the small sounds you were making, but made no comment.  

It had already grown chill, the signal that night had fully overcame the world, when Kennyo stopped again.  His hand released yours, and the cold and lack of his touch immediately making you wish he’d take the action back. 

Instead, you asked, “Kennyo-san, why are we here?”

He looked over to you, his face softening, “Are you afraid?”

“No...curious.”

“You should be afraid.”

“I don’t think you’re as bad as you think you are...why be afraid?”

Kennyo gave a wry grin, blowing out the light he’d made.  You could barely make out his face in the darkness.  “I am a demon.  You should be afraid…” he said, anguish clear in his whisper.

You tried to discern his expression and couldn’t.  Neither of you made a move.  The silent night stretched on forever and you didn’t know if you wished it would actually do so or if you’d rather something happened.

A flicker in the corner of your eye had you turning.  Kennyo’s eyes followed yours.  Another flicker.  Then a third.  Small little flicks of light were filling the scene around you as little fireflies came to life.  The forest took on a near ethereal glow as fireflies flitted towards the two of you.  

You looked towards Kennyo, noticing that, for the first time, his face was not a mask of age old hurts.  The grin from earlier still remained, his features looking years younger as he took in everything.  It was a rare show and you had front row seats.  Your heart did a dance and you just knew you were grinning like a teenager with a crush.  

Kennyo looked down to you, his night dark eyes showing tiny pricks of gold as the little glow bugs flew about their nightly business.  His face held an almost ironic humor as he took in your features.

“Seems even the Buddha agrees with you, princess,” he muttered.

You grinned back, “So...what now, mister demon?”  You couldn’t help needle the man after all the show he put into telling you of his dark nature.  

He huffed at that, shaking his head.  “It seems I’ve no choice…”

He leaned towards you, his lips snatching yours before you had time to blink.  His eyes stayed open, watching your face, your own eyes unable to close.  His lips lingered a moment or two before he pulled away, leaving you breathless.

It wasn’t some passionate ballad of tongues like most romantic kisses were, but even so you were swooning on your feet, giddiness making you a touch dizzy.  You giggled and arms were around you, steadying you on your feet.  

“How that Devil King managed to find such an innocent creature…” Kennyo started, his voice full of flustered exacerbation.  You pressed your face into his chest, trying for all the world to stop the blushing and giggling.  

You were soon enough able to calm yourself.  Glancing up at Kennyo again.  By then, his face has sobered, leaving you a little bummed at that.  You stayed in his arms as the night chirped and glowed around you.

“Kennyo-san…” you whispered, a sudden curiosity coming over you, “...why did you bring me out here?”

He opened his mouth, clearly at a loss for words.  His eyes narrowed as he seemed to consider the question.  

Finally, he responded, “It hurt me to see you so isolated.  I may be a demon, but even I could not bear to see such a beautiful flower wilt.”  He sounded confused, you leaning closer to prod him more.

“I figured I would come and show you what I could do…” he continued, “but found that I couldn’t get past how much it hurt to frighten you further.”  He gave a small huff of a laugh, “Some demon I have made…”

He always wore them and would never tell you why.  Servants had fussed over what lay beneath them, but still he would refuse your advances to help him.  This unbelievably thin, tall, yet strong man would torment you until you begged for mercy.  Or tease you with promises of affection only to leave you in the cold.  His tactics for evasion were legendary, the man earning his title of Azuchi no Kitsune.  

[Not today, though!]  You were determined.  By Joe if Mitsuhide insisted on living so recklessly, especially in this war torn time, he was just going to have to accept your help.  That was that.  You carried his preferred antiseptics with you towards his quarters, already having a long discussion with Ieyasu on what to use, how to administer, and techniques for wrapping secure bandaging.  You were ready for him.

Arriving to his rooms, it seemed, he was ready for you too.  The smell of antiseptic already permeating his form, fresh bandages already wrapped neatly around his arms.  A serene face gazing at your own, the blush coming unbidden making you secretly damn the man just a little bit more even as your heart soared at his apparently rapt attention.

“My little seamstress,” he started, his voice a velvety caress to your ears, “I see you come bearing gifts.”  You congratulated yourself for not pouting at the obvious baiting.  You pressed your lips together, setting your supplies to the side.

“If your hurt, you should ask for help,” you did your best to sound stern, but even you could detect the petulance in your voice.

“I am unhurt, though.  I believe we have discussed this, already,” topaz glittered at you before his voiced dropped into a sound that went straight to your core, “Or perhaps you need a new lesson?”

You found yourself backing away.  No no no no, there would be no tickling of the you today.  “That’s alright.  I learned well enough last time.”  [Dammit]

His lips pulled into a line, his smile closed but still full of utter mocking humor.  It took everything you had not to growl at the man.  

“My, what a terrifying look you have.”  

Your shoulders slumped.  [You may have won this little battle.  But you will lose the war] You met his eyes, admitting your defeat.  He reached a hand out, patting your head, his movements patronizing but comforting all the same.  What you wouldn’t give to have those hands on your more and more.

“I do appreciate you coming to check on little ol’ me.  It warms that space inside of me I’m sure is supposed to be my heart,” Mitsuhide’s voice was light and his face bland as ever, but those words left you with a dark impression that you just couldn’t shake.  [Another battle for another day…]

So you left, medicine, bandages, and all.  You walked, feeling the sun on your back as you let your mind wander over the enigma that was Akechi Mitsuhide.  What was he hiding under those bandages?  If it wasn’t bad, then why hide it?  But if it was bad, why not, even secretly, go see Ieyasu about it?  Grumpy and contrary he may be, but Ieyasu did still abide by some code of confidentiality.  It made gaining info on your new *family* all that more difficult when the info center didn’t wanna share.

Had you been looking up, you would have seen him before it happened, but as you were apparently staring at the floor, you didn’t take note of the presence until you were firmly pressed, face first, into a soft and warm pole.

“Ah…” the voice was soft, almost delicate, and you found yourself looking up to find violet eyes surprised to see your own.  “Excuse me, I was distracted…” Mitsunari turned to face you and you noted the open book in his hands.  [Reading while walking?  That’s new.]  You glanced back up to him, finding his face full of warmth and smiles just for you.

“Were you needing something?”  He asked, “I could spare a few moments, though I would like to return to my reading.”  

You tried not to deflate.  Asking the walking encyclopedia of all things war about matters of the heart didn’t exactly fill you with confidence.  [Still, of all the warlords here, he’s been the kindest.  Perhaps he can offer some wisdom]

“Mitsunari-kun…” you started, choosing your words carefully, “how are you always so prepared for strategy and battle?  You read people so well.”

“Well,” he considered, giving your question all his seriousness, “I avoid engaging the fight until I have had a long time to evaluate whom I am fighting.  Generals are habitual and strategies are the same.  Once you learn that, you can easily predict movements and work accordingly.  I am not the strongest, so the surprise gives me the advantage I need.”

[Predict movements?]  Predicting the mind of Mitsuhide, or the inability to, is how you landed here.  “I’m afraid I am no good at learning battle tactics.  But can you teach me how to study people?”

Mitsunari blinked, clearly surprised, “Why?  While I am glad to show you, it’s alright that a princess has other skills.  Unless you are interested in strategy?”  His eyes glittered and you knew that he was feeling earnest in sharing.  Sadly, you didn’t think you had the mind to keep up.

You shook your head, “I’m sorry.  I just...more need help with a particular person…” you finished, feeling a bit dejected.

“You are going to battle someone?”  Mitsunari’s eyes widened, “Oh...I think Nobunaga-sama might be against you challenging someone to battle.  Hideyoshi-sama would, too.  You need training…” Mitsunari went on and on for a moment, leaving you to smile with uncertainty at him.

“Not...that kind of battle,” you said as soon as he finished, “more a mental battle.”

“Like a game of Go?”

“Exactly!”

Mitsunari smiled, “I am not as good as Nobunaga-sama, but I can teach you the game and you can learn strategies from there.”

“No, no…” you shook your head, “we’re not playing Go.  It’s just…” you sighed.  “There’s a person...I want to help hi-uh-*er*,” you finished in the feminine in hopes that Mitsunari wouldn’t question you about the male in question too much, “but she keeps finding ways to avoid it and throw me off.  Leaving me unable to do much.  I’ve tried to catch her beforehand and always find she’s always long finished.  As if she knows exactly what I’m going to do…”

“Hmmm…” Mitsunari put his fist to his chin, his other supporting the still open book with the grace of long learned habit, and thought.  “There are many that will sabotage in order to create an opening.  I have initiated such strategies when I’ve been outmatched, as well.  Is that something you could try?”

You thought about it.  How would you go about accomplishing such a quest?  You couldn’t cut his bandages off.  For one, he’s more skilled than you at swords and coming at him with a sharp object could prove deadly.  You also didn’t want to risk injuring him further than he was hiding.  Replacing his antiseptics was also more risk than you were willing to make.  

“I don’t see how I could.  Everything I can think of is too much risk to her.  I want to help, not make things worse.”  You were beginning to feel defeated all over again.

“Perhaps then,” Mitsunari was unperturbed.  He thought some more, “Perhaps, then rendering this task you wish to help with useless?  Without damaging it.”  At your look of apparent confusion, Mitsunari elaborated, “A form of sabotage would be to cut the straps of the horses, not harming or risking anyone, but still making them unrideable.  It severely hinders an enemies movements without directly harming any person in the process.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start with that…”  You stared into space, trying to imagine sneaking in to Mitsuhide’s quarters to take his antiseptic or make his bandages useless before he caught you, or worse, already used them.  Still, it was something to think on.  “But thanks, Mitsunari...I’ll…” you pointed at the book still held open, “let you get back to your reading.  I have things to think about.”

You went to your quarters, setting your Mitsuhide care kit off to the side.  You sat, intending to work through your thoughts while your hands worked through some fabric.  Masamune’s haori had yet, another tear from yet, another crazy jaunt into battle.  That one was going to lose his other eye or worse if he didn’t stop and consider things.

“I swear, going into a fight with no armor...what were you thinking…” You knew you sounded like the blond fink that had already yelled at him, but you still had to say it.  You examined the cut in the cloth, noting the blood stain that turned the gorgeous deep blue a near black.

“Ruined…” you sighed, setting the garment down.  While you figured it wouldn’t bother the one eyed dragon, seeing such lovely fabric ruined like that filled you with a sense of sorrow for the item.  You glanced around the room, needing to shake yourself of these sudden down feelings.

Your eyes landed on your small makeshift vanity.  You coursed over the cosmetics that Nobunaga had bought for you.  Eyes landing on the lip stains.  You remembered your time, where lipstain papers were replaced with the bright hued lipsticks.  You glanced back to Masamune’s haori, then to your bag, tucked neatly in a corner.

You had a small tube of pink lipstick that you had bought for your new job.  After all, a job in fashion and you didn’t wear makeup...it was almost a sin.  You moved towards your purse, shifting through it until you found your prize.  The tube was about the length of your thumb, a soft, almost unnoticeable, pink tube lined with a golden rose glinted up at you.  Gently removing the cap, you revealed the golden tube inside and the gentle pink shape of the lipstick.

“Render useless, he said…” you whispered to no one.  You brought the tube to your face, the moist texture covering your lips as you applied the makeup.  You didn’t use a mirror, didn’t need to.  You pressed your lips together, ensuring a full cover of the hue.  You paused, fishing out a small handkerchief from your bag, and blotted your lips against it.  Delicate carnation marred the white fabric of the small square and that was when you knew you had your plan.

You spent the next day moving about your duties in the castle, what little of them there were.  You visited Hideyoshi for tea, ate lunch with Masamune (who continued to attempt to feed Mitsuhide and Mitsunari), attended Nobunaga (more like stole konpeito for him), and helped Ieyasu, much to his complaining, with his herbalism.  The day moved as a blur as you thought about your plan and the reward to come.

Finally, it was time.  You were dismissed.  You walked to your rooms, everything as if it was just any ordinary day.  In your room, you took your lipstick, and hesitated.  You knew if you put it on now, someone was bound to comment.  But if Mitsuhide saw you putting it on, you might lose your chance to implement your plan.  What to do?

You carefully placed the tube inside your haori and left off towards Mitsuhide’s.  Outside, the sun had begun to paint the skies in hues of dusk.  A lovely setting for such a silly plan of yours, you were almost sorry the sky wasn’t going to paint a more romantic scene.  After a ways, you could see the castle before you.  You stopped, removing the lipstick, carefully applying it.  You could feel your cheeks heating, suddenly feeling foolish at your antics.  [All this over some bandages…]

Face flushed and lips painted, you entered into Mitsuhide’s residence.  Of course, he was already sequestered in his room.  [Does he ever go into other parts of this place?  Or does he just stay here all the time when he’s not with Nobunaga?].  The man in question had already looked up, his book forgotten, at your appearance.

“How adorable,” he stated, his face giving away nothing save that insufferable humor, “you even dressed up for today’s lesson.”

You didn’t rise to the bait.  Instead, you approached the silver fox, seating yourself next to him.  Your eyes fell to his bandages, neat and white.  His scent gave away that he’d just changed them, your lips twitching at the knowledge that you were about to waste some bandages just to win a game of touch and go with this man.  [Why couldn’t I just fall for an easier man?  Masamune is pretty easy with love?  Why do I have to go for Mr. Complicated here?]

“As you can see,” Mistuhide was saying, his arm extending to show you the full breadth of his bandage, “there is nothing here for you to do.  I need no sewing.”  His hand moved, and before you were ready, you were on your back and he above you.  “Now,” he said, his face looking contemplative as a hand hovered over various parts of your person.

You squirmed, Mitsuhide laughing low and seductive.  You wondered if he played like this with prisoners and surmised that he most assuredly did.  [Ok, but does he do it so sexily?  Probably]  You felt his fingers and squeals erupted from you.  You tried to turn away, finding yourself firmly pinned as his expert fingers had you kicking and screaming for him to stop.

“But your responses are so interesting,” was his response to your pleas.  He moved, tickling a new spot, you attempting to thrash as he tortured you anew.  

Eventually, the “lesson” was over and you were allowed to breathe again.  Fingers brushed your lips and your eyes widened at the sudden touch.  Mitsuhide was staring at his fingers, a strange curiosity filling his features.

“It’s lipstick from my home,” you explained, Mitsuhide’s eyes finding yours, the open expression gone, replaced by the insufferable mask he wore for all the world to see.  

“Do you dislike the cosmetics you were given?” He asked.  Your smile halted.  He couldn’t know what you were planning and yet there he was, needling even when there shouldn’t have been a reason to.  How dare he question your taste in color choice, right?

“Ah...I just…” you hedged, his eyebrows raising at you, “it’s not a color found here, so I thought I’d wear something new?”  [That shouldn’t be a question]  You smiled up at the man.

“And why something new?”  You were in trouble.  Red alarms were blaring in your head and a voice screamed “mayday” inside you while you searched for something...anything to say.

“You don’t like it?”  You went for coy, but the fox was faster.

“Innocent you are, but this false simpering does not become you,” Mitsuhide leaned close, his breath tickling your face, “I prefer your much more honest self.”  He was so close you could almost touch those tantalizing lips.  You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift forward.  [I’ll take the loss on the bandages and tickling for this.  Not a problem]  A somewhat wet touch pressed to your forehead and withdrew.  Again, the forehead kiss.  [Just like last time…]

[Well, not again, buster]  You managed to bite your tongue as he let you up, signifying the end of your game.  You, on the other hand were not finished with him.  “Mitsuhide…” you breathed, watching him as you gauged your next move.

“Do you desire more?”  He reached, but you were ready this time.  You caught his hand in both of yours, pulling him closer even as he moved towards you.  You stared at the appendage, heat radiating from every pore as you slowly pushed his sleeve out of the way.  You heard him chuckle, a quiet, “Ieyasu might complain if you waste such good bandages.”  

Ignoring his comment you leaned forward, pressing pink lips against his bandaged wrist.  He had grown silent, but otherwise offered no reaction that you could discern.  Feeling braver, you moved to his fingers, tinging the white wrappings on each digit in feminine hues.  He didn’t move as you trailed kisses over his arm.  Pulling back, you examined your work, small prints marking his bandage in tiny splotches.

You raised your eyes, finding wide open golden ones staring back.  The mask he so carefully cultivated was gone and in its place was a man in awe.  He looked as if he had been holding his breath as he had watched you.  For a moment, neither of you moved, simply taking the time to watch each other.

You were the first to break the silence, “Looks like...your bandages got dirty…” Your breathing was heavy, but out the words came.  Had there been clocks, you could hear the seconds tick by as the statement simply hung in the air.  Again, neither of you seemed to have any desire to move one way or another, simply incapable of moving past this singular moment.  A moment that felt more intimate than other touch or friendly kiss that had been shared until now.  [I wish…] your eyes misted as the thought came unbidden [I could make this last eternity]

Slowly blinking his snowy white lashes, Mitsuhide smiled.  It wasn’t the fox smile you had grown so used to.  For once, it seemed, Mitsuhide was off his rhythm.  Flaxen eyes found yours as Mitsuhide said, “I wrapped them a couple of layers.  The stains won’t affect anything too poorly.”

Another silence passed.  The air was pregnant with an anticipatory resonance.  You were no longer even sure of the time.  You knew it had to be dark, but were unsure how late.  [Hideyoshi is going to have words for me…]

“I should…” you hesitated, knowing that you needed to go back to your own room, but unwilling to leave.

Mitsuhide seemed to agree.  He leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours, his eyes never fluttering or wavering as he watched your response to the barest of his touches.  As much as you wanted to keep watching that beautiful face, your own eyes fluttered closed, a small whimper emanating from your parted lips.

Lips sealed over yours and you found yourself gently pushed backwards, the both of you lying a top his futon, yet again.  No tickles, no torture.  Mitsuhide held you with one arm, tracing your cheeks, jaw, neck, ears, and lower still with his kiss studded hand.  When wet heat flicked your lips, you opened your mouth, inviting his tongue with a soft moan.  The tip of his tongue trailed across the roof of your mouth, the sensation making your moans louder.  Fingers found yours, and intertwined, Mitsuhide pinning your hand gently into the softness of his futon.  

Withdrawing, Mitsuhide pecked soft kisses to your cheeks, eyelids, and forehead, punctuating each new kiss with a return kiss to your lips.  You began to feel a bit dizzy, your muscles little more than jelly as he showered you with kisses.  His lips returned to yours one last time, your tongue darting into his mouth, his grunt swallowed by your burst of aggression.  Another dance and the kiss was over, Mitsuhide pressing his forehead to yours as you both took time to recover your breath.

Your eyes remained closed, a languid feeling overcoming you as you reveled in the memory of what just occurred.  You didn’t see his smile or notice he had moved until his voice reached your ears.   “There…” he whispered, ever so quietly, “that is an honest expression.”

You smiled, you couldn’t help it.  Sheer joy overwhelmed you and your eyes opened.  Mitsuhide sat up, helping you up as he moved.  He stood, offering you his hand, “As much as I would like to spend all night relishing in your innocence, I am afraid you were right and ‘you should’ be going.”  

You took his hand and stood.  The walk back was quiet as you both seemed lost in your own thoughts; your own being of what had just transpired.  Mitsuhide walked you to the castle, to your room, finally kissed your forehead, and bid you goodnight.

“Mitsuhide,” you called as he moved to leave.

“Hmm?”

“Next time...come to me...I’ll...change your bandages..”

The fox smiled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He left.  You undressed inside your room, putting on your sleeping clothes.  A soft thunk on the floor and you realized you had forgotten your tiny weapon against the bandaged fox.  Picking the lipstick up, you smiled, then placed the makeup back into your purse.  You decided right then that you would only wear your lipstick for Mitsuhide alone.  Only he may be allowed to experience pink staining like that.

“I don’t even know,” you said to the ceiling, “who won today.  But gosh that was so worth it.”

So...recently, my puberty stricken child has notified me that they are not liking the changes that their body is going through.  They’re not liking the form their body is taking and along with identifying as agender and going by “they” they are not appreciating certain aspects they now have to put up with because of genetics and such dictating their form.  

Now, they’re young, so surgery isn’t ont he table yet...I would rather they at least partially stop growing before addressing that...But I remember the amount of body dysphoria I had from developing early and I also know that developing early, especially your chest...people can be brutal.  

Might sound like...whatever htey call the parenting where the parents try and make everything as smooth as possible...but...I don’t want my kid growing up hating their body like I did and do...SO..

I decided to buy them a (hopefully couple of) chest binders.  I found a decent site for them that is made by and supports people like my kid.  Problem is...this is a new expense, new expenses are hard for me to adjust to...and I’m on a fixed income...I saved to buy clothes, but this talk we had yesterday has made me realize I don’t have quite the amount I wanted to for their clothing needs.

So...I propose...if anyone wants to donate a coffee...so about three binders (33 dollars a piece, plus tax and shipping)...that...would do a lot of good...and at the end...in thanks...I’ll give warlord kisses...or write it at any rate.

Again...this isn’t exactly emergent, per say...I mean, my kid hides in their hoodies and jackets anyway to keep from having to see their body and apparently (this is why they do it I just found) have been doing it for the past 2 years since they started this...process of growing up.  

but it’d be nice to have my kid feel comfy enough to remove that jacket on a hot day and not have to feel uncomfortable with their body.  So...sentimentally important but not...-waggles fingers- not like we’re gonna starve without it.  

Ko-fi for kisses

Anything is appreciated.  Gracias.