He saw the mottled red flush rise up her throat at the same time that her eyes turned as hard and sharp, her expression as distant as a snowy mountain peak, and just as cold. 

It wasn’t the anger, it was the disappointment with which she looked down on him as she rose stiffly.  

“Why don’t you?” She said, voice as as flat and chilly as a frozen lake. 

He knew better than to let his frustration add wind to the tempest but his own chest was tight at the sight of her, hands in tight fists at her side, stubbornly refusing to listen, refusing to see the larger picture. 

“Perhaps I simply have more important matters to think about than what is, whether you like it or not, a perfectly normal part of the relationship between vassal and lord.” He said, matching the cold in her tone.

“Well don’t let me distract you from such important matters, in that case.” She said, so coldly that it should have withered the flowers on the shelf with frost. 

She stood perfectly still for a moment, before she curled her lip in disgust as she turned away. He had expected that she was simply leaving to cool down, had expected that he would find her in the room she had turned into a workshop upon taking residence in his manor, her usual refuge. 

Until he saw a glimpse of her, bag in hand, and heard her tell a startled maid she was returning to Azuchi. 

He nearly rose to follow her, to go out into the street and tell her that he was sorry, to take her hand, but he pressed his lips together into an angry line and sat drumming his fingers on his desk instead. If she wanted to turn this into a match of wills, so be it. 

He tossed and turned alone in bed, alternating between anger and regret as he felt the cold space where her body should have been. They rarely fought in earnest, which made him feel even more irritated by how he had allowed something so trivial to come to this. He tried to shake off the guilt he felt at the idea of her alone and probably crying. It had been her choice. 

The morning passed as he worked furiously, the entire manor pregnant with tension as the maids and his retainers practically tip-toed around with curious eyes. 

Their devotion to each other and the unified front they presented to the world was unusual enough to have been the subject of gossip in its own right, and now she wasn’t even speaking to him. 

He rose and took his documents in hand and headed to the castle to make his report to Nobunaga. 

She was nowhere to be seen on the way to the Tenshu, which he found irritating in its own right, since it would force him to either go to her with no excuse, or leave things to fester in silence for who knew how long. 

He made his report and waited to be dismissed, grumbling inwardly as Nobunaga studied him with calculating curiousity. 

“Our chatelaine has returned to her residence here. I expect you can explain this turn of events?” He asked, coldly. 

“We had a… minor disagreement, my lord. Too trivial for you to concern yourself with.” Mitsuhide answered glibly. 

“I’ll be the judge of what is and isn’t trivial, Mitsuhide.” Nobunaga responded, adding an amused snort. “Have you taken steps to rectify the situation?” 

“I feel it might be unwise to act hastily.” Mitsuhide said, keeping his smile carefully fixed in place. 

“How unusual it is to see you letting your feelings interfere with your goal.” Nobunaga replied, tapping his fan in the palm of his hand thoughtfully. 

“This is hardly analogous to a political negotiation.” He said, eyes narrowed at Nobunaga’s self-satisfied smile. 

“Is it not? I see two former allies at odds, each waiting for the other to open negotiations. Of course, if I were you, I would simply give the other side every concession, given that you stand to lose nothing but a little face and gain that which you most want.” Nobunaga replied with a shrug. 

“I would gladly do so if the concessions were wholly mine to give.” Mitsuhide countered sharply. 

“Is that all?” Nobunaga asked, with a decisive snap of his fan. “I trust your diplomatic skill implicitly. Do whatever you see fit.” He finished, with a gesture of dismissal. 

Mitsuhide rose to leave, and paused at the library to write a hasty note, passing it to a maid. He plodded out of the castle to wait impatiently on neutral ground.

He saw her coming at last, walking resolutely toward the tea house, dressed gorgeously for the evening’s celebratory banquet, her proud demeanor adding an unusual touch of stateliness to her beauty that set his pulse racing. She nodded at him and sat beside him. 

“This isn’t right.” He said softly, turning ostensibly to adjust her hairpin, to touch her cheek lightly. 

The afternoon sun was soft as it felt across her face and he watched her expression begin to thaw. 

“No, it isn’t.” She said, fixing him with a penetrating gaze.

“I’d never have guessed you were such a devastating tactician.” He said, offering her an honest smile. “But you know exactly how to turn the tables on me.” 

She reached out to take a strand of his hair between her fingers, with a bittersweet smile. “This wasn’t about leverage. I’ve been angry, I’m still a little angry but–” she paused with a sigh. 

“I know that we have very different experiences and ideas, but I’ve always believed that we share the same principles. I can’t just stop caring. I won’t.” She finished, a quaver in her voice. 

He sighed audibly and reached for her hand. “You wouldn’t be the woman I love if you did.” 

She knit her fingers through his and he saw the faint beginning of the gentle smile he knew and loved. “I know it’s not unusual to you, but I just can’t accept it. What’s the use of all this struggling for power if nothing really changes?”

He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer, kissed her forehead tenderly. “I lose sight of that sometimes and I need you by my side to remind me. Perhaps a bit less forcefully, but I’m aware that I can be…” 

She cut him off with a soft laugh. “A condescending jackass?” 

“You’ve made your point, my dear.” He replied, dryly. 

“Well, I’m a jackass too.” She added. “There’s nothing I hate more than feeling powerless, and I took that out on you.” 

She craned her face up to steal a quick kiss with apologetic eyes. He held her chin and bent to kiss her deeply, pleased with the lascivious sigh she gave. 

“If you don’t stop we’re never going to make it to the banquet.” She murmured, as she ran her hand down his collar, brushing the bare skin of his chest. 

“I’ll have to tease you to twice as much later to make you pay.” He whispered, mouth close to her ear, his blood heating with desire at how her breath caught and how she shivered. 

She gave him a hungry glance as he forced himself to draw back, and focused on smoothing her hair and clothes into place. “That had better be a promise.” She said, heat in her lingering gaze. 

“A promise, a threat, whichever you find the most distracting.” He shot back with a wink. “I’m afraid we have to part, but do me a favor and tell that page that I’d like to offer him a position.” He added, as they both rose. 

“Is that a scheme I hear in your alluring voice?” She asked playfully, backing away from him, but holding on to his hand with her fingertips. 

“Why, I can’t believe that you’d accuse me of such a thing!” He answered, feeling the heat rise in his face at her compliment. He strolled toward his manor, turning to wave at her one last time, and put the finishing touches on his plan as he changed into his formal clothes. 

He had spoken to Nobunaga just before the banquet formally commenced, and took his place beside the lord whose alliance they were celebrating, pouring him a cup. 

“That page of yours seems an unfortunate young man,” he said casually, “he looks rather out of place, and at such an important event.” 

The lord scowled and tossed back his drink moodily. “He’s worthless I tell you, an absolutely hopeless idiot, but he’s my wife’s cousin’s son, and I’m stuck with him.” 

Mitsuhide filled his cup again and leaned in conspiratorially. “You could leave him in my service.” He said, and offered the man a knowing smile.

“Now there’s an idea.” The lord answered with a tipsy chuckle. “He’d get he deserves, then, the little bastard.”

 “But I have no one at all to offer as a replacement. How terribly unfortunate.” Mitsuhide said with exaggerated disappointment.

“You shouldn’t offer favors that you can’t deliver upon, Mitsuhide, but I take responsibility for your caprice, as always.” Nobunaga interjected with lordly disdain from the dais. “As a mark of my favor, I’ll send one of my own pages with you. I have no doubt that a man as beneficent and honorable as you will appreciate his talents.” He finished, leaving no doubt that any abuse would be taken as a direct insult. 

“I– I-” the lord stammered, apparently only just realizing that he had been all but directly ordered to take a spy into his service, squirming uncomfortably under the twin smiles of Nobunaga and Mitsuhide. “Thank you, my lord.” He sputtered out at last.

“My lord is eternally wise and generous.” Mitsuhide said, showing the daggers in his smile. 

The trickiest part was to meet Kyubei, the linchpin of the whole plan, without drawing Mitsuhide’s attention, but somehow they managed to pass each other in the halls and palm off notes like school children.

She had deliberately begun the process several months early to throw him off the scent and allow the castle to return to a normal state until as close to his birthday as was possible. But now that the clock was winding down and the event was the next day, she could feel his curious eyes on her, and the question in his smile at the sight of her practically slinking through the halls.

He had brought her her favorite sweets that night, and had an expression that could only be described as solicitous insofar as his face ever betrayed any anxiety at all.

Her reassuring smile didn’t seem to lift his spirits, as he undid her hair and sat her before him to comb it, a habit that soothed him whenever he was troubled, a kind of wordless intimacy that reminded him of the trust between them and the strength of their bond.

She felt him pause and lean forward to rest his chin upon her shoulder with a sigh.

“Are you… unhappy here?” He asked, very softly, the directness of the question betraying his anxiety.

“What? I couldn’t be happier.” She answered in a rush, feeling a strong pang of guilt at having given him the impression that her feelings had changed.

“You left a great many things behind to be with me, and I’m, well, me. It would be natural if you regretted it.” He said, so softly she had to strain to hear it.

“My handsome, sweet-hearted fox. I’ve never looked back– or is it forward? At any rate, I’ve never wanted to look in any direction but the one you’re in, and I never will.” She said, tilting her head to rest her cheek against his hair.

“I’m aware that you’re planning a completely unnecessary banquet for my birthday, but that’s no reason for you to look so harried, little mouse.”

His breath stirred the hair on her neck and sent a pleasurable shiver down her spine as she steeled herself to– not exactly lie– but evade. “Of course it’s necessary, who could be more important to celebrate than you?” She asked lightly as she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

“How well you’ve learned all of my tricks.” He replied with a soft low laugh that set her heart beating faster. “I won’t make you talk, no matter how I’m tempted to, so long as you look me in the eye and promise me that if anything troubles you you won’t hold back.”

She turned to face him, arms around his neck, and looked into his haunting, piercing eyes. “If anything troubles me, I’ll always tell you.”

He studied her face intently and she forced herself not to flinch. It wasn’t as if planning his birthday troubled her, and as such it wasn’t technically a lie. She hoped he couldn’t see her finding loopholes to keep the slightest hint of guilt out of her expression. Besides, if he could read her mind, surprise be damned, he’d find only love there and a fierce desire to show him how well loved he truly was.

“Why, I like this side of you as much as all the rest, it seems.” He said at last, the ease back in his voice and smile.

A close, close call. She leaned toward him for a kiss, laughing as he pulled them both down into the bedding, laughter turning to a gasp at the feel of his cool fingers gliding down her throat, and the promise of his touch.

He was up before daybreak, the same as any other day, which she had been counting on as she hustled out of bed herself and said a silent prayer to the god of fickle fortune that Kyubei had succeed in taking him away on a local inspection of the ongoing rice harvest.

She peeked into his office, and smiled with satisfaction at the bit of rice straw that Kyubei had left as a signal, an otherwise unremarkable feature in the well used room. The others would be waiting in the castle town, having traveled on a tight schedule that brought them to the town just after he was gone, leaving no time for his spies to report their presence. The signal went out and one by one they filtered in, Masamune first, with a wild grin, eye alight with amusement as he put up his hand and whispered “you know we’re never going to actually surprise him, right?”

“Probably not, but it’s the effort that counts.” She answered, yelping as he enveloped her in a bear hug.

“Masamune, try to have some manners.” Hideyoshi interjected with a long-suffering sigh, as he reached out to pat her on the head.

“Yes, a commendable effort, though probably wasted.” Nobunaga added, gliding majestically through the doors.

“I don’t even see the point in trying.” Muttered Ieyasu, trailing beside him.

“Well, I think it’s wonderful that we’ve all managed to visit Lord Mitsuhide on his birthday.” Mitsunari said with a sunny smile.

“You, think? That will be the day.” Ieyasu shot back with a snort.

“I still would very much like a lock of your hair, Lord Ieyasu.” Sasuke said, appearing out of nowhere next to Ieyasu, who jerked back and glared at him.

“What? Why!? Also no! You’re as weird as she is, and that’s really saying something. Is everyone from the future this weird, or did they send you here because they couldn’t stand you?” Ieyasu said, bitterly.

She clapped her hands lightly to get their attention, and felt a rush of nostalgia for her days at Azuchi. “I’ve missed you all, even your incessant bickering. But time is short, so, did you bring it?”

“Of course.” Nobunaga said with a magnanimous gesture.

“I tested it, it’s as strong as you said it should be.” Ieyasu answered with a shake of his head.

“I can’t wait to see this.” Masamune said, rubbing his hands together with delight.

“I still think this sounds incredibly dangerous. I don’t like the idea at all.” Hideyoshi added fretfully.

“I compounded the ingredients you requested, they’re as pure as they can be and relatively safe.” Sasuke said as he patted her on the shoulder. “I have to say, this is a surprising idea.”

“Yes, well, I went through a phase of fascination with pirates after those you knows came out you know when.” She muttered to him.

“I’m quite curious to see how this will work myself.” Mitsunari said thoughtfully.

“Well anyhow, I’m off to the kitchen. I’d like to have tasted it before hand but,” Masamune shrugged expressively, “I’ll take the word of the barbarian traders.”  

“I tasted it and it was… interesting.” Hideyoshi said, the tips of his ears truning faintly red.

“Oh is that what you call tearfully professing your undying admiration and love for Lord Nobunaga?” Interesting?” Ieyasu asked with a roll of his eyes. “Just take care, Mitsuhide has a high tolerance but this barbarian drink is a strong as anything I’ve ever tested.” He added, watching the attendants roll the large barrel, looking somewhat the worse for its long journey, toward the banquet hall.

They went their separate ways for final preparations, and she finished dressing hurriedly and went to meet him at the gates. Kyubei nodded to her with a smile as she went to throw her arms around Mitsuhide, armor and all, and kiss him on the cheek.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Why you look almost as sparkling as a lit firecracker, little mouse, did something especially good happen while I was being dragged about like an obedient pet for your pleasure?” He asked with a wink.

“I suppose you’ll have to run along and change to find out.” She answered, winking back at him. “I’ll be waiting in the banquet hall.”

“Oh very well, I’ll arrange my face into an expression of surprise if it makes you happy.” He said over his shoulder as he sauntered away.

She went and joined the others, mouth watering at the sight and scent of the feast Masamune had prepared and nodded at Sasuke and Nobunaga where they stood ready.

They waited in silence, save for Ieyasu snorting again, until they heard the soft sound of the opening door, and, just as he walked in, set fire to the row of cups of gunpowder laced brandy in a dazzling show of leaping flame.

“Happy Birthday!” They all shouted together, and though she never could say for certain that he was truly surprised, he managed a fine imitation of it just the same, and the genuinely pleased expression on his face, though fleeting, was more than enough to justify the work.

She picked up two of the cups still alight, thick stone to keep it from heating too soon, and went to him, handing him one Sasuke and Nobunaga passed the rest around to his retainers and allies. “A toast to Mitsuhide, who keeps us all on our toes year after year, and is as fine a friend and lover as anyone could ever ask for!” She said, and clinked her cup to his as he raised his brow at her, a faint blush on his face.

She reached over and clapped her hand quickly over the flames first on his cup and then her own, and everyone in the room followed suit and tossed the liquor back, the gunpowder in it burning like the devil as it went down. He joined them and broke out into a surprised smile.

The rest of the room was in various paroxysms of coughing and choking at the high alcohol content and rough finish, even Nobunaga was clearing his throat discretely.

“I can taste that!” He exclaimed quietly, and gave her a look of admiration she could feel to her toes. “Well done, little mouse. Well done.” He murmured sweetly.

“As she hypothesized, you can’t so much taste things as feel the sensation if they’re extremely potent.” Sasuke said as they joined him, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and looking quite the scientist, except for the flush of the liquor spreading across his face.

“I can’t believe–” Ieyasu said irritably, clearing his throat, “that we went to so much trouble to obtain something so utterly vile!”

“I could see how–” Mitsunari said, between bouts of coughing, “someone could get to like this.”

“Ha! Just try and fool me with that concoction!” Masamune cut in, laughing heartily as he served them all food.

Hideyoshi, who appeared to be more sensitive to alcohol than he seemed, was quite red, and glaring at them all. “Unbelievable! A fire! With gunpowder! Indoors! Well no wonder you refused to travel back to Azuchi for this– this– madness!” He sputtered.

“I found it a most impressive display.” Nobunaga said, with a smile. “Seeing our Mitsuhide surprised makes the journey well worth it.”

“Well, I have to give the barbarians credit, this is quite the drink.” Mitsuhide said, as he refilled his cup.

“The gunpowder was– is–will be? A popular addition amongst pirates waaaaay wayyy over on the other side of the world.” She said, already feeling the effects of the strong liquor. “But when I think of you I think of gunpowder and alcohol, which made think of pirates which made me think of this.”

“I don’t know whether to be completely pleased or a little insulted.” Mitsuhide replied with an amused smile. “I’ve never been one for sailing, you know.”

“I’ll just shut up and eat.” She said, feeling the heat across her face at his teasing, but quite pleased herself nonetheless.

He somehow managed to slip Masamune a bit of drink, and he promptly fell face first into the bosom of a maid who didn’t seem terribly put out by the development, as Hideyoshi, alternating between bouts of fuming and maudlin affection, saw to it that he was carried to his room.

“I just can’t believe that you would put Lord Nobunaga in danger of being burned!” Hideyoshi said, shaking his finger in her face and then reaching out to muss her hair, with a glitter of tears in his eyes. “I really do miss having you at Azuchi you know. I worry about you all the time, thinking ‘is Mitsuhide making sure she doesn’t work herself sick? Is Mitsuhide making sure she’s wearing a heavy enough coat?’ He’d better be!”

“If anything I imagine Mitsuhide is keeping entirely too close an eye on our former chatelaine. I’ll bet it’s like being in prison, but she’s goofy enough to enjoy that.” Ieyasu said, a faint slur betraying the affection in his words. He had been as approving as he ever was when she’d told him that a strong dose of pepper was the traditional garnish for the beverage.  

“Oh what a beautiful understanding of love you have, Lord Ieyasu. Truly, you never fail to astonish me with your insight.” Mitsunari said, apparently the only one of them drinking in careful moderation.

“I’ll insight you!” Ieyasu replied, staggering forward only to be caught by a grinning Nobunaga.

“One can imagine Mitsuhide as a pirate easily enough. He’d be a terror with a ship full of cannons.” Nobunaga said with a nod to her.

“Yes, that’s entirely too many large guns in too small an area for him to do anything but raise hell with with.” Sasuke said, a fleeting look of horror in eyes. “No. No it’s best not to think about these things.”

“Why squirrel, you should appreciate that I’ve turned my talents to peaceful ends.” Mitsuhide replied, throwing an affectionate arms over Sasuke’s shoulders.

“I’ll squirrel you!” Sasuke said in imitation of Ieyasu, whom he had been stalking all evening.

“I’m sure you will.” Mitsuhide responded with a soothing pat on the shoulders.  

They laughed and drank the night away, and even he seemed a little tipsy as they staggered to their room, holding each other up.

She flung the door to the balcony open to let in the cold autumn breeze and sat shoulder to shoulder with him watching the moon peek out from between the clouds. “So, how much of that did you find out in advance?”

“Oh I gathered that you were bringing our friends here, but other than that– nice work. I don’t pay much attention to food or drink, so you chose a fine angle of attack.” He answered warmly, with a soft laugh. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“I’m just sorry that I made you worry that I was unhappy.” She answered, resting her cheek against the warm silk of his kimono, her head still swimming a little.

“I suppose I’ll always worry that you’re unhappy. But I trust you, even when it appears that you’re plotting something.”

“Plotting to make you happy can surely be forgiven, since you do it all the time.” She replied.

“I have no argument to that. You once told me I always smell of gunpowder and I thought you meant I always smell of death, back then.” He said, looking like a sculpture limned in moonlight in profile.

“No! It’s a scent that I love because it’s part of your scent. Besides, now you know that I thought it was a very romantic thing, even before we met. The freedom of thought and will to defy the times and go against the grain of society, what could be more attractive than that?” She asked, smiling up at him.

“Remind me to keep you away from Motonari.” He answered with an amused laugh as he turned to look at her.

“I know exactly where I want to be and with whom, never you fear.” She said.

“Thank you, my dear, for a most memorable birthday.” He said, leaning to kiss her forehead.

“Welcome home, Mitsuhide.” She said and reached out to sweep his hair out of his eyes. 

“I suppose I’m a well trained pet now, I always come trotting back to you.” He answered and caught her hand to brush a kiss across it. 

“Oh? I’m pretty sure you knew all your tricks before you met me.” She said and grinned at him, her eyes warm enough to push away the weariness of a long and chilly ride. 

“Ah, but these are the tricks of a thoroughly domesticated animal– you tell me to roll over in the night and I do it. You tell me to go lie down, I oblige willingly. I’m a shadow of my former self!” He said drolly, smiling at her bemused expression. 

“Uh huh. I don’t have any recollection of you complaining about me asking you to lie down, and as for rolling over, you do have a habit of draping yourself all over me like a very handsome but startlingly heavy blanket of an evening.” 

“You have only yourself to blame for being so pleasantly warm. Honestly, you ought to apologize to me, little mouse, you’ve made me awfully lazy, I don’t  even like to get out of bed anymore.” 

“Oh the indignities you put up with, and for what?” She replied, eyes twinkling with laughter. 

He kissed her again and then unfolded himself, sprawling out to rest his head on her lap. “Why, your lifelong devotion of course. It’s really the least you can do for corrupting me so completely.” 

“Cheap enough, since you’ve always had that.” She said warmly, running her fingers soothingly through his hair. “Goodness what an awful influence I’ve been! People are starting to talk– they’re calling you,” her voice sunk to a dramatic whisper, “trustworthy.”

“How am I to live in such ignominy? You’ll have to pay, my dear, tonight and for the rest of your life.” He replied dreamily.  

“Well, nobody ever told me being in debt was so pleasant, or I’d have run up an enormous tab years ago.” She said with a laugh. 

He sighed and stretched, shifting himself up reluctantly. “Oh, before I forget, a letter for you.” 

He handed it to her, keeping his face as deadpan as possible, as he leaned in for a lingering kiss, his heart pounding of its own accord. 

“Hmm, I don’t recognize the writing, good lord, it’s nearly too artistic to read…” she said, trailing off as she unfolded it. “Now why would Kenshin be writing to me.” 

“Dear me, little seamstress, you’ll just have to read it and see.” 

“Yeah, yeah, wise guy.” She said, scanning the letter. She looked up, a confused expression on her face. “Am I reading this right? He’s asking me to join the Uesugi?” She asked, pointing to several lines, written in a decisive, sweeping hand. 

“Yes, as his adopted daughter, it would seem.” He answered nonchalantly. 

“But… why?” She asked, clearly puzzled. 

“It’s rather an amusing story, actually. I was twisting Ieyasu’s arm and Sasuke burst in looking as if he was moments away from a fit of apoplexy and begged me to leave some part of history intact. You left an impression on Kenshin, so I paid him a visit instead.” He answered, beaming at her. 

“Uh huh, and why, may I ask, are you trying to adopt me out?” She asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Keep up with me now, little mouse.” He said, and took her hand to place a gentle kiss on her ring. “I said I’d marry you properly, didn’t I? Now the world can see us as the equals we’ve always been.”

Her eyes went wide in shock as the realization hit her. “I–” she started, her voice hoarse with emotion, “you didn’t have to go this far, Mitsuhide. The formalities don’t matter to me.” 

“Well, you were saying you wished you could see Sasuke more often just the other day. It did take some doing to convince Nobunaga, he’s been calling you an Oda princess this entire time. I believe he’s quite put out to not be able to formally give his lucky charm away.” He said lightly, feeling a happy flush spread across his face.

“I… you…” she sputtered, searching for words. “I love you.” She said at last and grabbed him by the collar, standing on her toes to kiss him deeply.

He held her face in his hands, and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye. “It’s far too late for tears of regret, you know. I’ll never let you go, even if you cry about it.” He murmured gently. 

She shook her head at him, and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Don’t make idle threats.” She answered, her voice low and sweet as she leaned into his arms. 

“Never.” 

****

The fox looked bedraggled and more than a little hungry, which was probably why it didn’t notice the maid who came around the corner and catching sight of it gave chase with broom in hand.

“Get away from Lord Kenshin’s rabbits you vermin! Pest! Out! Get out!” She cried, chasing the poor creature around the garden until it squeezed back through the hole. She stomped away huffing, and silence fell on the garden again.

He glanced down at the dried fish he had been nibbling on, and sighed again. “I really am getting soft as hell,” he murmured to himself as he stood and made his way to the wall, crouching down to stick his arm through, fish in hand.

He waited patiently as the wet grass tickled his feet, and was about to give up when he felt a cold nose on his fingertips and smiled to himself as the food was snatched away. “Let’s both protect our reputations and pretend this never happened,” he said softly as he felt the brush of soft whiskers across his empty hand.

He withdrew his arm and rose to return to his seat. When he turned he found the creature had followed him, sitting just out of reach watching him with exceedingly hungry eyes.

“Well I’m not getting up again. If you want to eat you’re just going to have come over here.” He said, smiling as it cocked its ears and watched him with sharp, narrowed eyes.

“Do I look like I’m in need of a mangy fur?” He asked, waving a fish invitingly. The fox slunk forward cautiously, pausing to sniff the air and study him until it finally reached his feet and looked up at him expectantly. “Already plotting, I see. Well, I can respect that, but you’ve really got to learn the art of subterfuge, my little friend.”

He tossed it a fish, which promptly disappeared, as did the next two. “You know, Hideyoshi would’ve just given you a lecture on not giving up when things are difficult and sent you on your way, you’re lucky I’m such a soft touch.” He said softly, blinking in surprise as it jumped nimbly up onto the veranda, eyeing the basket of fish thoughtfully.

“Now see here, I respect your ambition, but these things require subtlety, my would be vassal.” He said, sliding the basket a little further out of its reach but passing it another fish. “First you earn my trust, and then you commit your inevitable betrayal. There’s an order to these things.”

He was withdrawing his hand when the maid came back around the corner muttering to herself, causing the fox to panic and dive for the nearest hiding hole, which happened to be right into his sleeve. He caught it by its scruff and folded his arms to his chest, slouching over as she passed by.

It poked its head out cautiously when he loosed his grip, but didn’t seem in any hurry to depart. “No. Absolutely not. That was strictly a fox to fox favor. Unless you’ve got a wishing jewel hidden in that muddy tail, no deal,” He said, shaking his head at it. He could feel its ribs as it shifted to look up at him questioningly.

“You audacious little beggar,” He said, laughing despite himself, as he laid the basket on his lap with a welcoming gesture. Upon closer inspection it was a young vixen, her tail waving happily as she devoured the food. She finished it and sniffed at his other sleeve inquiringly.

“Listen, just because I can’t taste it doesn’t mean I’m willing to share it. A little mouse made it for me.” He said, pulling out the carefully wrapped chimaki dumpling and unwrapping it and taking a bite. She had learned how to cook dumplings to the exact chewiness he preferred, despite swearing up a storm in the kitchen. He smiled at the memory and then looked at the expectant fox with a raised brow.

“Fine,” He said, dividing the remainder of the dumpling in half, “but I’m only sharing this because she’d want me to.”

The vixen licked her whiskers daintily after she finished her half, and looked at him with a curious sniff, before bounding down to make a dash back out of the garden.

“There’s just no loyalty in this world,” he complained with a laugh, and rose to return to his room and change into more formal clothes.

He heard the shuffle of vassals heading toward the hall as the shadows lengthened into early evening, and opened the door before the wide eyed attendant could knock. “Yes, fine, spare me the announcement. Let’s go,” he said with an impatient gesture and followed the man.

“…Lord Shingen and Lord Yukimura arrived just an hour ago! It will be like old times!” He heard an enthusiastic retainer say as they passed, and groaned inwardly.

Kenshin was bad enough, but Shingen was a canny bastard with a sense of humor and an axe to grind.

She was nowhere to be seen as he entered the hall, already abuzz with low conversation, which dropped even lower in his presence. Kenshin waved him over and gave him the seat his rank demanded with a curt nod of greeting.

“Well if it isn’t the great spy himself, out before sundown, even,” Shingen said with a broad smile that didn’t touch his eyes.

“The peaceful life does wonders for one’s habits and health,” Mitsuhide replied smoothly, “How’s Kai treating you these days? No problems governing?”

“We’re still recovering from the occupation.” Shingen shot back, curtly.

Their exchange was cut short by the sound of excitement when she appeared at the door with Sasuke behind her, looking so lovely that for a moment everything else receded except the smile she gave him alone, and the light in her eyes as they met his as she came to take her seat at Kenshin’s side.

“Seeing a goddess grace us with her presence was more than reason enough to make the trip, but besides that, it’s delightful to welcome you as new family to an old friend,” Shingen said smoothly, elbowing a blushing Yukimura.

“Uh… what he said.” Yukimura mumbled and nodded.

“We’re not friends. I’m still going to kill you both.” Kenshin interjected with a frown.

“Now, now, let’s keep the conversation pleasant for the lady,” Yoshimoto admonished with an amused smile directed squarely at Mitsuhide.

She glanced between them with raised brows, until Sasuke leaned in to whisper something to her, handing her a flask to pour for Kenshin, who acknowledged her with a polite nod and filled her cup.

“Let’s drink to the princess of the Uesugi,” he said, and lifted his cup to a surge of noisy approval as all of his retainers followed suit and drained their cups. The general consensus appeared to consider it a score against the Oda to have adopted one of Nobunaga’s favorites.

Mitsuhide drank and gave her the flash of a smile, drinking in the sight of her in an elaborately beautiful formal kimono bearing the Uesugi crest. “Why, you make that drab shade of blue look positively lively, my dear.”

She laughed softly and looked him over approvingly as Kenshin glowered at him, hand drifting toward his sword.

“I think it’s a lovely shade of blue myself. Not so different from the one you favor,” she replied graciously, her expression neutral except for the faint rebuke in her eyes. “I’m honored to wear something so beautifully made.”

Kenshin relaxed and the color returned to Sasuke’s face as Shingen snickered into his cup and Yoshimoto watched with detached amusement. Yukimura clicked his tongue in exasperation as a maid brought Shingen a plate of sweets.

“I thought you promised–” he began, cut off by Shingen’s airy wave.

“Yuki, it’s an occasion! We’re here to celebrate!” Shingen said with a charming smile.

“Yes but you haven’t even eaten dinner yet!” Yukimura replied with a defeated sigh as the rest of their food was served.

“Ah, but we’re already drinking, and you know I can’t bear to drink without something sweet. Never trust a man who drinks without a snack, Yuki. He’ll stab you right between the ribs every time.” Shingen countered, glancing meaningfully at Mitsuhide.

“I’m not sure how that sugary garbage counts as a snack anyway, the only proper snack for drinking is a good pickled plum.” Kenshin said dourly.

“Nonsense! Sweets are the best with sake, isn’t that right, princess?” Shingen asked her with a flirtatious wink that set Mitsuhide’s teeth on edge.

“There’s merit in everyone’s personal preferences I’m sure,” she answered courteously, giving Shingen a polite but bland smile as they began to eat.

“You’re my daughter as of tomorrow, you should take my side.” Kenshin said bluntly, holding his cup out to her.

“A lifetime of seeing the beauty of diversity will be difficult to overcome, I’m afraid,” she answered sweetly, “but I’m deeply grateful and honored at the favor you’re showing me.”

Mitsuhide kept his expression fixed, but felt a surge of pride at her adroit navigation of a situation that was surely more than a little surreal for her.

“You should be grateful that someone with such a fine sense for diplomacy is even willing– what on earth are you doing to the food?” Yoshimoto said, recoiling at the sight of Mitsuhide mixing everything together in his bowl.

“Oh dearest me, I didn’t mean to shock your delicate sensibilities, my lord. This is simply the most efficient way to eat.” Mitsuhide said with a sharp smile.

“Well that’s just plain weird,” Yukimura muttered.

“I can, much to my dismay, confirm that lord Mitsuhide is acting entirely consistently and means no insult. He always eats that way,” Sasuke interjected with a despairing gesture.

“What was it you said, you’d rather not waste time eating when you could be drinking? I’m sure that you can appreciate the sentiment, lord Kenshin,” she said with an encouraging smile.

“I can respect a man who appreciates the finer points of a good brew.” Kenshin said, with the faintest hint of a thaw in his tone.

“Well if nothing else it will be fun to watch these two try to drink each other to death, which leaves me to bask in the company of a beautiful woman on a lovely moonlit night.” Shingen said, with a dreamy look in his eye.

“Why, bad or good, it’s all the same to me. As long as it’s cold in the summer and warm in the winter I’ll drink anything,” Mitsuhide said, pointedly ignoring the bait that Shingen was waving.

“That’s an insult to the art of brewing sake, you know,” Yoshimoto said, needling him in tandem.

“Is it? I rather think it’s a compliment. Those who make swill need to live just as much as those who make elixir.” Mitsuhide answered levelly.

“I’d almost like to see you two duel, just to see who could actually lift a sword,” Kenshin remarked dryly.

“The best victories are the bloodless ones, my lord.” Mitsuhide responded ignoring the flash of heat in his chest at the sight of Shingen leaning close to her to fill her cup and practically breathe down her neck.

“Eccentricity is novel for awhile, princess, but the peculiar soon becomes grating. A man can be unconventional without straying into the uncouth.” Shingen said rakishly.

“Bloodless? What kind of rot are you talking? There’s no glory in that!” Kenshin exclaimed with a sharp gesture.  

“I’ve always favored outsiders myself– the more everyone picks on and dislikes someone, the better I like them and the more I take their side,” she said demurely, and took an elegant drink.

Mitsuhide downed his cup quickly and hoped that they’d blame the flush on his face on the alcohol and not the lovesickness that had him firmly in its grip. He prided himself on his self-discipline and patience, but it was all he could do not to take her by the hand and drag her to the nearest bed to show his appreciation of her unnecessary but perfect defense of him.

“Here’s to outsiders,” he said quietly and raised his cup to her.  

“I always thought you were kind of a dummy, but that’s actually pretty nice.” Yukimura said, oblivious to the hangdog silence that had descended on the others.

“Yukimura, please don’t throw your life away like this.” Sasuke mumbled, holding his hand to his forehead despairingly.

Shingen flicked him hard on the forehead with a rueful smile. “Y-u-k-i what have I told you about how we talk to women?”

“Ow! Why would I listen to you? You flirt with anything that moves!”

“Well, the delivery was rough, but I appreciate the intent, lord Yukimura,” she said with a beneficent smile that brought a bright blush to his face.

“Well I’m glad to see that you can keep up with these fools.” Kenshin said, casting an approving glance at her with unusual softness in his sharp eyes.

“I learned from the best,” she answered with an affectionate nod at Mitsuhide.

“Why, that’s a bald faced lie, you were exactly this adept at getting your way from the moment I saw you,” he countered fondly.

“Watch your mouth, Akechi, think about who you’re calling a liar.” Kenshin said sharply, the ice back in his tone and face.

Sasuke sighed, shoulders sagging defeatedly. “They’re flirting, my lord. Trust me, this is that man at his sparkling best.”

“Hmmph.” Kenshin said, studying her happy expression curiously.

“Flirting as a concept has been buried in a shallow grave tonight, in that case.” Shingen said with a shake of his head.

“Someone explain why it’s fine when he calls her names, but I get a smack to the head!” Yukimura muttered moodily.

“She saved my life the night we both encountered the wormhole, for starters.” Sasuke said with the exasperated gesture of a teacher explaining something obvious to a particularly dense student.

“So you’ve said before, but you could have considered that debt repayed when you delivered her safely to the passage back through time, or when you assisted her in saving my life.” Mitsuhide said, peering into Sasuke’s impassive face.

“I’ve always been very dependable.” Sasuke said, flatly. A soft breeze lifted his hair out of his face and made him look younger for just a moment, with the idealism of youth still alight in his eyes.

Mitsuhide laughed, mostly at himself, at how the strange course of events had dusted off his own long tarnished romanticism and, gods help him, idealism too.

“As for me, I wonder how a nice girl like her fell for you at the approximate speed of a meteorite. It’s sometimes easier to understand string cosmology than a single human heart.” Sasuke said as he took his glasses off to polish them with a finely made kerchief.

Mitsuhide shifted comfortably in the saddle. “Dear me, squirrel, what good would I be as a spy if I couldn’t successfully win the heart of one woman?”

“You can fool all the people some of the time and some of the people all the time, but even you, Akechi Mitsuhide, cannot fool all the people all the time.” Sasuke countered cooly. “Your feelings are just as sincere as hers.”

“That’s a good proverb, I’ll have to remember that.” Mitsuhide answered lightly.

“Please don’t, it’s 350 years too soon.” Sasuke said with a groan.

“You speak as if I’m the kind of fool who goes about spewing information like a drunkard losing his dinner in an alley.”

“Thanks for the colorful metaphor. Fortunately breakfast was too bland to make an impression on my stomach.”

“You insisted that we share cooking duties.” Mitsuhide said with a shrug.

“Fair is fair.” Sasuke said grimly, looking up at the sky as if in the grip of some painful revelation.

“Dear me, did one of your caltrops fall onto the saddle?”

“No, I was just thinking that I wish I could send you to a modern physician to cure your olfactory and gustatory disorder, and then subject you to a dish of what you currently eat.”

“So they can fix that sort of thing in your time, can they?” Mitsuhide asked skeptically.

“Possibly. But as a scientist I never let probability interfere with a good daydream.” Sasuke replied.

“And here I was thinking you had no imagination, just a mind like an abacus and an excellent factual memory.”

“Yes, well, imagination doesn’t look like the endless concoction of sinister plots for most people. Besides, you still refuse to believe me about space flight, so I’m not sure you have grounds to accuse me of a lack of imagination.”

“You yourself admitted that you’d never done it.” Mitsuhide countered. “It’s utterly outlandish rot. It sounds like the most absurd lie a bunch of rulers ever came up with.”

“And I told you that the calculations check out, as does the rest of the evidence. If only I had some tinfoil, I’d make you a hat!” Sasuke answered passionately.

Mitsuhide had been amusing himself by adopting a posture of total disbelief after discovering Sasuke’s intense passion for all subjects related to the heavens.

“I pity your gullibility, it’s a terrible quality in a ninja.”

“And yet you’re absolutely nonchalant about electricity, radio, indoor plumbing, combustion engines, submarines, film-- oh god how did you even get me to tell you so much!”

“It’s a talent.” Mitsuhide answered with a grin. “As you said, you’re very dependable and you’ve experienced all of that directly. One must have standards of evidence in order to make reasoned judgments, after all.”

“I knew I should’ve taken intro to philosophy instead of that film elective.” Sasuke said moodily.

“Why, I just want to understand her world that much better. It’s not as though I could build any of that even if I wanted to.”

“You’re literally having a shower built right now!” Sasuke responded, flinging his hands up in exasperation.

“Yes, but it will be dismantled before it causes any issues, and you did say that it was the thing she said she missed the most.”

“You have such unshakable confidence that she’ll come back. And I’ve told you, even in the best case you’re going to live through a paradox where you’ll simultaneously have lived an entire lifetime without her and one where she returns. It’s Schrödinger's love affair where the ultimate determination of your state will be her observation of it.”

“Then I may as well live as if the best case scenario was the only one.” Mitsuhide answered quietly, smiling gently at the horizon.

“That’s assuming you aren’t killed in the meantime.” Sasuke said flatly.

“Why, that’s what you’re here for, to make sure I live long enough to change things.” Mitsuhide replied.

“You know how people sometimes call their significant other their better half?”

“I do not, since it probably hasn’t been said yet, but do go on.”

“She is unequivocally your better two thirds. If she does come back and you break her heart I’ll kill you.”

“Sasuke, I’m overwhelmed by your affection. I feel that a genuine meeting of minds has finally occurred between us.” Mitsuhide answered airily.

“I don’t mean it in the affectionate way Lord Kenshin does!” Sasuke cried, and tore his glasses furiously off of his face.

“No need to be so diffident my dear bosom friend, I accept your feelings completely.”

“Oh, so my reputation precedes me, even into the future.” 

Mitsuhide banked the fire, waving away the smoke that flared up from the damp wood as it drifted into his face. 

“It’s not like I’d leave the man my bff– for reasons known only to herself and whichever star guides people toward terrible choices– loves.” 

“Your what now?” Mitsuhide asked, sharply, eyes narrowed at Sasuke as he considered the revelation of frequent ceiling and floor assisted visits. 

“Best friend forever.” Sasuke said reaching up to the blank space where his glasses normally sat as if to push them up the bridge of his nose disapprovingly. “And you have no cause for jealousy, she’s like a sister to me.”

“Yes, I suppose if you’d had designs you could’ve just gone back to your own time together.” Mitsuhide replied. “You said that the fissure would open again, so tell me where and when and I’ll just fetch her myself.” 

“I also just told you that that course of action is extremely ill advised, if it’s even possible at all. The potential distortion of space-time–” Sasuke replied, cutting himself off with a sigh. 

“Alright, so that’s the least feasible option. We’ll just put that aside for now. What other course of action can we take?” 

“I’m afraid I’m otherwise employed and must inform you that I have an extremely binding contractual obligation which regretfully prevents me from joining you in any ill-advised ventures likely to result in dismemberment, severe emotional trauma, beheading or otherwise unspecified bodily harm.” Sasuke countered flatly, reaching for his phantom glasses again and dropping his hand with a noise of displeasure. 

“Were you under the impression that you had a choice? I’m afraid not. Keeping you hostage is an absolute necessity.” 

“I could take you in a fight right now.” Sasuke said to a patch of white ash on a scorched pillar. 

“Oh I have no doubt, but you won’t. I might die, and you’re just ever so slightly more devoted to your bff than Kenshin.” Mitsuhide replied knowingly. 

“Dear god, it’s like someone desaturated Shingen and surgically removed his conscience.” Sasuke whispered in horrified awe. 

“And If you’re thinking ‘surely lord Kenshin will come for me!’ you should know that I know he doesn’t know you came here, and that I can keep you hidden for years.” Mitsuhide added. 

“You really just added a new and disturbing dimension to my relationship with Kenshin right off the cuff there, didn’t you?”

“Spare me the inane chatter, give me options. How do we get her to the wormhole at the right time?” He asked with a gesture that was wasted on Sasuke.  

“Leaving aside that we’re well beyond my known timeline, there’s no fail-safe way to ensure that any message you send will survive.” 

“If I could just get her back to Tanba…” Mitsuhide said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, thinking of the myriad hiding places he had built into the castle and the ways he could draw her attention to them without alerting five centuries worth of residents.

“You should know that Tanba was a ruin in our time, and my calculations suggest that an incredibly dramatic causal variance would be required to change that outcome.” 

They sat in contemplative silence for awhile, until Mitsuhide dropped his fist into the palm of his other hand triumphantly. “I’ve been thinking about this all wrong. It’s the people!” He said enthusiastically. 

“Are you feeling dizzy again, by any chance?” Sasuke asked with a note of alarm. 

“I feel like I’ve been trampled by several horses, but that’s not important.” He answered dismissively, his mind on fire with plans. 

He had been nearly paralyzed with leaden misery at his own helplessness, feeling only the overwhelming distance between them and the implacable rule of time around him like water closing over his head. 

Even if she didn’t return to him, even if they never met again, he had to make certain that she knew that she had been loved, would be loved, always. He only needed a problem to solve to find his feet. 

“We have two issues– how to physically secure a message, and how to draw her attention to the correct place.” 

“In extremely simplified terms, yes.” 

“She won’t be too keen to look me up, if I know her. She’ll be trying to carry on and let go of me, which precludes some kind of monument. But the people– they can protect Tanba and convey my message all at the same time.” 

“I don’t follow…” Sasuke replied curiously. 

“Of course you don’t, but all you need to do is follow along.” 

He had driven himself to the brink of collapse the rest of that winter, exhausting every moment that he could conceivably be away from Azuchi without rousing more then the usual levels of suspicion. He returned on a soft spring day just in the nick of time for a war council. 

Hideyoshi strode toward him with a mixture of anger and concern, grabbing his collar to growl “where the the hell have you been?” 

“Starving himself half to death, by the look of it.” Ieyasu interjected dourly. 

“Are we sure he hasn’t got the plague or something? He has a look in his eyes– and where’s the lass? Why isn’t she with you?” Masamune added, studying him closely. 

Nobunaga studied him impassively, and waited for the tumult to die down. Only the inner circle was present, as Mitsuhide had requested. He strode forward, but did not sit. 

“What I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room.” He began, and explained her absence. 

Masamune offered a low whistle, with an amused look in his eye, while Hideyoshi stared blankly and Nobunaga tapped his fan on his knee thoughtfully. Ieyasu snorted derisively, and Mitsunari knit his brow in concentration. 

“That was several months ago. What have you been doing since then?” Hideyoshi asked, finally shifting out of his reverie. 

Mitsuhide smiled perhaps the first entirely honest smile he had ever offered them, knowing that it was probably ghastly on his gaunt face. “Why, scheming to bring her home, of course.” 

“You’ve finally lost that tangled excuse for a mind.” Ieyasu said harshly. 

“Oh quite possibly.” Mitushide answered, sweeping his gaze across the room as he made his great gamble. “But then again, none of you have ever known me when I truly wanted something.” 

Nobunaga narrowed his eyes with a taut smile. “And just how do you intend to accomplish such a feat?” He asked, coldly. 

Mitsuhide cocked his head and looked out the window at the soft blue sky, picturing her under the cherry blossoms for half a moment. “With the closing of this rotten age, my lords. The time for peace and unification has come, one way–” he dropped his hand to his gun, “or another.” 

“You crazy bastard.” Masamune said with a wild laugh. “I like this side of you.” 

The blood had drained from Hideyoshi’s face, and his voice shook as his hand drifted toward his sword, hissing “what have you done?” 

“I wouldn’t, Hideyoshi. If I don’t leave this council with my head on my shoulders all hell will break loose.” Mitsuhide answered, lightly. 

“Speak your piece.” Nobunaga said darkly. 

“With Kenshin and Shingen alive and dragging the last of the Imagawa in tow, we could be at war for who knows how long, and with unpredictable results. But I need a rough sequence of events to unfold, and it doesn’t include endless war. The remnants of monks of Heiei and the Mori are problems all their own, and then there’s your puppet Shogun.” He said, gesturing at Nobunaga. 

“We’re all aware of the current situation.” Hideyoshi spat through gritted teeth. “What’s your point?” 

“There are too many personal vendettas and ambitions at play for this to ever be settled under only our volition, unless it’s by battle royale with only one left alive. Given her affection for all of you, that’s not a particularly desirable outcome either.” 

“All this for a woman.”  Masamune said with amusement.

“Lord Mitsuhide…” Mitsunari cut in at last, with quiet dread in his voice, “you’re talking as if you’ve brought in an outside army.” 

The air was electric as Nobunaga leaned forward with a hard glitter in his eyes. 

“Not so much an outside army as evening the odds for the people we have no business trampling over on our way to glory. I’ve armed the women in every fief, and given the farmers instructions to stop working the fields if our demands for peace aren’t met. They may choose to rise up and kill me, of course, but as long as I’m a convenient mouthpiece, I’m reasonably safe.” 

Hideyoshi struck him hard across the face, leaving him with the taste of blood in his mouth. “You’re going to– no, you’ve already thrown the country into chaos and famine!” He thundered, red faced with fury. 

“It sounds quite peaceful outside to me. More peaceful than it has in my memory. No thundering cavalry, no armies marching at the pleasure of men who are, in the end, only men no better or worse than they.” Mitsuhide replied, dabbing the blood from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. 

“What hope could peasant women and farmers have against trained armies?” Nobunaga asked contemptuously. 

“Not much, it’s true, but how long do you think your foot soldiers would heed the order to attack their mothers, sisters, daughters and wives? You’d order them to destroy the future, and for what–” his voice rose, hoarse and strident, “to say that you ruled the world?” 

He made a sweeping gesture, hoping that his words, always his favorite weapon, would secure a bloodless victory. 

“Every throne casts the shadow of its own destruction, my lords. We clamber to the heavens and live in dread of those we leave below, driven to greater and greater cruelty to avoid being dragged to the hell that we ourselves have made.” 

He dropped his hands and and his voice, and looked each of them in the eye in turn. 

“Isn’t it better to dig graves for our pride than our people?” 

The silence was louder than any sound could ever have been. 

It was finally broken by a ringing, rolling laugh from Nobunaga, who finally sat back and cleared his throat with a wide, wild smile, and the tiniest flash of relief somewhere far, far back in his dark eyes. 

“I knew you were going to revolt eventually, but holding a gun to all of our heads, from the Imperial court to the local magistrates–” he shook his head and chuckled again, “and not even with the ambition to rule! Ingenious.”

“My lord–” Hideyoshi said, his expression tense. 

“Enough. We’ve been outplayed.” Nobunaga said with a wave of his fan. “It’s almost poetic– in the end, the people unified themselves.” 

…

How many years ago had that day been? His mind was still sharp, even as his body had begun to fail him, heart growing weaker by the day. He had wrung out every bit of his strength taking aim at the distant future.  

The years had been full of mountains of correspondence, leagues of riding from one end of the country to the other to keep the peace, to pluck out the seeds of war before they could be well and truly sown. 

And always in the dark, the memory of her, and the hope that every step forward and every day would build a shrine that could carry his heart to her. 

He whispered to her in the night, when the fear that it wasn’t enough chilled him, knowing that the odds were astronomically stacked against them, he whispered every sweet and longing word into quiet space where she should have been. Dreams of her carried him through, of the warmth of her body, the feel of her skin, every exquisite shudder and sigh, even the painful aching fire of unfulfilled lust he carried like a penitent barbarian in their horsehair shirt. 

He had spent the first half of his life trusting no-one, and spent the latter half holding his trust like a weapon– trust in her, in himself, in whatever capricious force had brought them together in the first place. 

The irony of dying in hopes of giving himself a second chance at life was never lost on him, who had never so much as believed in the immaterial soul. Time was an enemy and his dearest ally. 

With the final preparations made, with nothing left but to leave his faith in the children and grandchildren of his friends and one time enemies, he was helped into the saddle for one last ride. The old scar on his arm ached as the early winter snow drifted down. 

The ruins of Honno-ji had become an overgrown mass over the years, but he had built a small cozy hut there, the place where he had begun to live, the place where he intended to die. 

“Thank you, Kyubei.” He said as took the proffered cup of sake gratefully, watching the snowfall in the quiet night. 

“I’m Kyubei’s  grandson,” the young man said, and gave him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. 

“Ah. Forgive an old man for losing track of time.” He said, quietly. 

The quiet snowfall had lulled him into a deep, peaceful sleep, a dream where she was curled against him, so warm, a dream of a long ago kiss upon the back of his neck, of her cradled in his arms, of her beautiful body tangled with his, of her precious voice telling him 

You do not have to be good

but you are

Somewhere in the deep blue dawn he heard the calling. He struggled up, half staggering, half crawling, toward the door. 

“Wait– where are you going?” The boy cried out, trying to take hold of his sleeve, but he felt lighter than he had in years, felt as light as the flakes of falling snow. 

“The wild geese are calling me to my place by her side…” he said, bare feet in the soft snow, strangely warm as he walked toward the place where the balcony had been and folded his legs neatly beneath him, hands in his lap, heart in his hands to give to her as he closed his eyes. 

…

She had had one day and 7 hours to dispose as best she could of her life, but nothing had ever been easier. She had already been living as if she were dead, and dropped her letters of farewell into the post without a single regret. 

It felt as if she were floating a little above the ground as she carefully wrapped up four sets of glasses for Sasuke, and went to the monument to wait with one more poem on her lips like a prayer

A kiss on the forehead—erases misery. I kiss your forehead. A kiss on the eyes—lifts sleeplessness. I kiss your eyes. A kiss on the lips—is a drink of water. I kiss your lips. 

How many lives were folded between the two of them like ink dropped into water, and why, she didn’t ask. Just one, even if it hurt sometimes, if it frightened them both, if it was struggle, just one would be so much more than enough. 

The pressure and the crackle in the air brought grateful tears to her eyes when they arrived, and she stood fearlessly and walked into the wormhole, eyes wide open. 

It was the same dark haze but she felt as if she were being dragged every which way, buffeted first toward one blurred landscape and then another, searching frantically for him. 

She saw the diverging paths of his life, the violent heartbreaking ends, the loneliness, and shards of incohate moments. 

Snow. He was there in the snow, seated as if in silent meditation, beauty still apparent under the marks of age. 

He didn’t stir as she cried out his name, again and again, telling him she had returned as the sight of his serene face faded. She felt a familiar cool hand brush her tears away with a touch so soft and light, felt guided toward a faint light, and began to run. 

…

“Are you ill?” Nobunaga asked as Mitsuhide pitched forward onto his knees, and clutched his head. 

“I– I just had the odd sensation of having… died.” He mumbled, faintly. 

Sasuke cocked his head thoughtfully, watching the storm as it descended. 

“You called these peace talks under threat of revolution you’re not allowed to die of a broken heart, you insufferable snake.” Hideyoshi said angrily.

The four of them had ridden up to Honno-ji as the storm came on, and he felt as if his head were full of intense flashes of something he couldn’t name– other selves, other lives. 

“I did warn you that the timeline reasserting itself might be unpleasant.” Sasuke said dryly, and adjusted his battered glasses. 

“Shouldn’t she be here by now?” Hideyoshi asked as he hoisted Mitsuhide to his feet. 

“There’s no guarantee–” Sasuke began, and was cut off by Nobunaga gesturing toward the balcony. 

He scrambled across the sleet slicked ground, feeling that same desperate fear and hope as he stumbled up the stairs, overcome with the sensation that it had been so much longer than a single year, weak in the knees as he slid down, straining to see into the twisting cloud. 

She toppled into him, snow in her hair and on her lashes, and they fell together onto the cold and sooty wood of the balcony. She was so warm in his trembling arms, her pounding heart pressed to his. 

***

WHEW, WE MADE IT THROUGH THE ANGST