A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

The night had been an unusual one. There had been a lightning storm that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Lying awake as he was, Gengyo counted thirty individual strikes – the largest number he had ever observed. It seemed even the earth was tense, awaiting their battle.

When morning finally came, none had mentioned it. It was as though it had been orchestrated for his ears only.

The rain had remained. A more dismal day it was hard to imagine. The ground was muddy underfoot and with all the soldiers passing through, the grass was stripped, leaving bare soil behind.

"Lord!" Individual soldiers stiffened upon seeing him, saluating him with a clenched fist against their sternums. He nodded in acknowledgement, pleased to see that everyone appeared ready.

The peasants were visibly rattled, donning their poor quality equipment and fighting to control the hefty weight of their yari. Many of them were shaking their heads in refusal of taking any food – they knew their stomaches would not tolerate it.

"Eat. Even if you have to force it down. You’ll need the energy." Came his orders as he walked past. Hurried obedience ensued when they realised his presense. They spooned the slop into their mouths and swallowed, barely tasting it, so nervous they were in his presense. By the time they were done, he was already gone.

"Good morning, Jikouji. It’s a miserable day to die, isn’t it?" He joked grimly, calling out to his old retainer, interrupting him as he gave instructions to a group of peasants.

Seeing Gengyo, he motioned with his hand for them to leave. "It is quite the wet day, but for battle, I much prefer it. The cold seeps into my old bones and makes everything numb and the pain doesn’t feel quite as bad."

"That’s one way of looking at it. I’m sure our new recruits are feeling quite differently. It will take some effort to rouse them."

"They’ll wake up soon enough. Where’s that Matsudaira? I still don’t know what strategy we’ll be taking on today. You know, I would have felt much more confident if it was you pulling the strings. I’m sure the others would as well."

"Perhaps. But it is not just this battle, there is the future as well. This is a good opportunity for him to show us what he’s truly capable of."

"You had to choose this one, did you? When we’re so heavily outnumbered and going against Takeda Shingen no less?"

"My dear Jikouji, when are we not outnumbered? Your nerves are getting ahead of you. I know you have more faith in Matsudaira than you claim. Come, let us go see him. I’m sure he’ll be able to set you at ease."

"Nerves? Pah. I was fighting on the battlefield before you were even walking. It’s not nerves. I just don’t see why you would want to fix something that isn’t broken."

"Because war is not just a game of victory, it is of constant improvement. Each battle we enter we should be stronger than the last." From behind the row of tents, they caught sight of Morohira and Rokkaku marching in the same direction as they, fully armoured, yet unusually relaxed in their gait. They were a calming body on the jittering peasants that they passed.

"Oyyy! Are you on your way to see Matsudaira as well, lad?" Morohira called out upon catching sight of them.

"That was the plan. Surprised that he hasn’t left his tent yet." Gengyo replied lightly, deftly avoiding the mud around a rather sizeable puddle, almost crashing into Ii and his entourage as they appeared from behind another tent. "Oh, we’ve got more company."

"Good morning, Ii-kun." Morohira addressed him with uncharacteristic politeness, immediately arousing Ii’s suspicion. Nevertheless, he decided he quite liked it and couldn’t entirely prevent himself from falling for the trap.

"Morning, Morohira-san."

"You know Ii-kun, I’ve been thinking, with this battle ahead, I’ve been pretty worried about you. So Rokkaku and I came up with a winning strategy to get you through it."

"What? Really? What is it?" Despite having fought a good deal of battles with them, he was never opposed to a quick and easy solution, such was his personality. Everyone else present could immediately tell that they were intent on making fun of him, except the man himself. Even his friends were shaking their heads in disappointment.

"You play dead," Rokkaku answered for him.

"Huh..? Why would I do that."

From his answer, Morohira was already laughing. He’d walked into it entirely. He was the only person they knew gullible enough to allow them to set up the joke so perfectly.

"To get used to how you’ll be in a second!" Morohira roared enthusiastically, thoroughly pleased with his efforts. A loud high-five followed as the two men slammed their meaty palms together, claiming victory.

A small sigh escaped Gengyo’s lips. He shook his head, though his smile was unmistakable. Some things would never change, no matter how dire the circ.u.mstances they found themselves in. It wasn’t normal, was it? For them to be so relaxed? He briefly wondered whether their attitude was his fault and he had an inclining that it might be. Had he carried himself with more seriousness, then his men wouldn’t have found it as easy to relax like this.

A glance at Ii’s face and one could see he was crushed. He would soon recover though – he always did. They pushed open the flap to Matsudaira’s tent in good spirits, seeing that the others had gotten there ahead of them.

The tent was quiet as they entered, despite the people gathered. From the looks they were shot, they felt compelled to keep it that way. Matsudaira was still sat hunched over a map of the field, a finger on his chin, thoroughly engulfed in thought. A pool of wax sat next to him. It seemed he’d been up all night and even the candle had fallen asleep before him.

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