A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Timid Usho bowed his and muttered his response, "I know... my master had to fight against you."

"You were a Takeda man?" Gengyo asked, suddenly interested.

"That’s right, my Lord," came the quiet reply. He dared not look upwards into his eyes.

"How old are you, lad?" He pressed.

"Fourteen, my Lord."

"Half man and half boy, eh? Still, you’re old enough to understand what your eyes see. Can I ask you a question, then? That is, if you’re able to respond honestly."

"Eh... Usho’s mine, Nii-san. Get your own," Rin stepped in drunkenly, pouting as she watched the exchange between them, feeling rather left out. She stuck her tongue out at Akiko as the girl began to laugh.

"By all means, my Lord," Usho said ignoring Rin’s interjection. He seemed to sense that Gengyo was his only way out of the drunken general’s grasp with his pride still intact.

"Good, Good... How are my men responding to Takeda integration? Have you noticed any disputes?" He went straight for the important question, and Jikouji shot him a doubtful look, though he continued to sip on his sake in silence, watching the exchange.

The boy paused for a few moments, his face a mask of thought. Clearly, something had happened, he was simply afraid to admit it. "Do not lie to me," Gengyo said bluntly, he needed not false pretences.

"There have been a few, I think... but there’s always someone to break it up. My master says the men are confused, and tells me to let the fights happen. He says its better for them to work it out now before we get on the field. He says that if we’re not united by the time we face off against the Uesugi, then we’ll be torn apart," the boy clutched the folds of his kimono until his knuckles turned white, almost unable to deal with the pressure of a Daimyo’s gaze.

"Your master sounds like a wise man," Gengyo mused, stroking his chin, "he has a point about the disputes. You needn’t worry yourself about them either. Once we begin training again, you Takeda men will come to understand our ways. Jikouji here will make sure of that, won’t you, old man?"

"Old man in company as well is it?" Jikouji said, downing the last of his drink, before reaching for the jug to pour another. "Aye, I’ll whip them into shape. You’d better remember this wrinkled face, Usho boy, you will do better in your training for it."

"Training? Am I to be training with the samurai and soldiers?" Usho asked, surprise raising his voice a pitch higher.

"But of course," Jikouji responded like it was the most natural thing in the world. "If your master is wounded and you have no skill on the field, do you think you’ll be able to protect him? Do you want your master’s death weighing on your mind, boy? I wouldn’t have thought so. It changes a man. It changed us, eh Miura? All of us." He leaned in close, forcing the boy to look him in the eye, pushing his elbows onto the table. "You see him, boy?" He pointed at Miura. "He’s only four or five years your older, and he turned the province upside down so he could avenge his master. Could you do that?"

Usho was looking up at Gengyo with big gleaming eyes, in awe. News of the young Lord’s ascension was not common knowledge, especially for the Takeda men. "...Miura-dono was like a god in the battle, everyone says so. If I can become like him, then my family would definitely be proud."

"First we have to defend that family of yours, so you had better get training. Two weeks is not much time to prepare for battle, but it’s a lot better than two hours. I expect that you’ll put all your effort into it," Gengyo said, taking the lead of the conversation before Jikouji could fill the youth’s head with more ideas.

"Yes my Lord!" Usho said enthusiastically, bowing his head low, seemingly riled up.

"You run along now, I expect your master will be missing you," Gengyo dismissed him, and the boy got up with haste, fleeing the scene with quiet patters.

Rin reached her hand out after him, her mouth open in despair. She shot Gengyo an angry pouting look. "No fair, Nii-san. Who am I going to play with now?"

"Perhaps Matsudaira might like some company," he suggested. His grand general was seated further away from him, after offering to entertain their new Takeda generals and try and establish a connection with them, knowing how important consolidation was. He caught the man’s eye as he looked over to him, and the grand general smiled, bowing his head respectfully.

"Boooo, he’s like you. He only cares about swords and battles, it’s no fun to tease him," she complained, resting her head on top of the table in a sudden depression.

"Boooo," Akiko echoed, seeming to make fun of her, though it came off more as a drunken tic. She was giggling to herself, the sound muffled with her face turned into Gengyo’s chest. They’d both certainly drunk more than enough.

Morohira was still shouting loudly, throwing his cup into the air with each cheer, splashing liquid everywhere. The fires burned and burned for the longest of times. It was not until the sun came up over the horizon did the festivities finally start towards their end.