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400 Years Apart	By : Cynthermes Category: +M to R > Mirage of Blaze Views: 4238 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Mirage of Blaze and its characters solely belong to Kuwabara Mizuna. I’m just going to creep into a corner of her sand box and play the part of a wannabe historical writer. No profit has been made in the construction of this story.

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Chapter Thirteen:

War of the Usurpers: Part 1

A/N: The second arc of our time slip is here.

Recap: Through the farce of a miai, Genan and his daughter, Hanaiin-hime escaped the silent siege of Hakone. Warrior monks called Sohei who are supposedly neutral and serve no daimyo were believed to be under the employ of the Uesugi… (At least Genan believes so because the Uesugi was giving them the taste of their own medicine… or something like that.) Their preparations to make a “Moat of Fire” were readjusted when suddenly Takeda’s war flags were spotted in the distance instead. Ujimasa, Ujiteru, and Saburo caught in between all have their roles to play.

Oh and by the way, this chapter patronizes Kousaka… a tad much? Heh.

***

The best thing Kousaka liked about riding horses was the wind in his hair.

It makes him feel powerful and unmatched. The thrill of danger was best exploited in fast, skillful retreats. Feeling powerful in running from the enemy? That concept might seem odd to more traditional bushi beliefs but the Nige-danjo doesn’t run away because of defeat. He runs because it was his part to play in gaining victory. It was because of his technique that even when the Takeda did suffer defeats their casualties were always contained to a minimum.

It was this specific warfare tactic that brought him such recognition and great value to Shingen as a Takeda General. The fourth battle at Kawanakajima where he safely defended and drew Shingen away from Kagetora⁵² quickly elevated his status from buke to a joushi. He was no longer frowned and sneered upon by his peers as Shingen’s lowly wakashu who was rumored to have climbed the ranks through pillow talk.

As one of the three Takeda Danjo, personally riding out into mock battles may seem petty for his stature when he can command some other lowly general to do it for him. But this was no ordinary siege. If there was ever one daimyo Kousaka would hesitate to provoke that would be Hojo Ujimasa. The man was very reserved. It was difficult to anticipate his moves. Heck, it was tough unlocking the mysteries of the man’s mind if one could actually have the courage. So Kousaka was going to try his own hand at this just the way he wants it… by leading the charge himself.

His army mostly comprised of cavalry approaches the outermost gate of the Jokamachi. Being on the fastest horse, Kousaka was first to survey the outskirts with a critical eye.

The small houses and alleys were deserted as the locals must all be gathered within the walls of the town square making the necessary preparations for the festivity. Even the plum blossom trees, which were an iconic symbol of Hojo power, have yet to start blooming in earnest. Perhaps this was the Takeda’s goal after all: To nip the bud therefore arresting a clan’s continuous rise to power.

And the ones to suffer from their ruthless ambition were the people directly beneath their rule. The townsfolk who to ease only a little of their boredom and the mediocrity in their stale but unpredictable lives chose to entertain themselves with traditional celebration still in the honor of their lords. That being said they were supposed to be unsuspectingly hospitable even to outsiders. Kousaka was quite counting for Odawara’s lax of security tonight, which was sadly not the case.

The gates were closed.

Large double slabs of fortified wood were shut tight as if to keep trespassers out. Hmph, damnation. Shame on my part, dear cub, Kousaka thought ruefully and started pulling on the reins. As he slows down so do the main force of the Takeda kiba-tai.

It seems Ujimasa read and deciphered his love letter⁵³ after all. That was a good thing but what he didn’t like was being utterly rejected before he could begin the courtship. Oh Ujimasa hime-sama, let me in or I’ll break the door open for you. This evil thought makes his lip curl. Alright scratch his previous statement: he wanted to see Ujimasa flip his lid. The Hojo Clan Head’s thoughts might be a puzzle but his emotions are easier to read. It was known to the Takeda that Obaiin-hime’s death was a severe blow to him. Upon the news of her death he had apparently become withdrawn. And though he was denied of even a scrape of her ashes, he was said to have built a shrine dedicated just for her. The location of that shrine was concealed but Kousaka then working incognito happened to brush by an out-of-sorts Ujimasa dressed in peasant mourning clothes, smelling of incense.

He decided to follow the young daimyo cautiously. One couldn’t know where those shinobi might be lurking and just suddenly slit his throat. The cold and damp atmosphere of the place was already giving him goose pimples. Only his determination as intelligence officer and his curiosity made him to finally steal a peep.

What he found sculpted in stone on that (not so secret anymore) shrine made his heart plummet down to his stomach and raised all the hairs on his skin in utter revulsion. So that was why Ujimasa couldn’t let anyone see this… statuette monstrosity of a chimera. He had never felt such aversion for something so ugly in its perversity before. Caring not for pride or honor Kousaka runs from the horrendous sight clamping a hand to his mouth and almost gagging along the way.

Remembering that nasty memory (now of all times) dampened Kousaka’s boiling bloodlust. So what are you hiding behind those gates this time? This was the exact reason why he carefully treads around this man despite being an obnoxious thrill-seeker. Did he let the Matsuda see that odd object? If he did then there’s no wonder why they would betray him like this. Dear cub, did you not know that your aniue is more messed up than I am?

“Danjo-sama,”

“Set the gates on fire first and then we’ll give the battering it deserves.” Kousaka quickly cut the idling captain off with this answer.

The captain blinks; dumbfounded to be very predictable. He then barked orders for the ashigaru carrying oiled torches to begin what they came for.

The gates made of thick woodworks were ablaze instantly, already coming off from the hinges. Yet impatient as ever, Kousaka doesn’t sit and watch the infernal destruction for another second and demands the obstacle to be completely razed.

The ashigaru bring out the only siege equipment they cared to drag along. It was an enormous log reinforced at the ends by metal rings and spikes suspended by iron chains down some mobile platform. The several “arms⁵⁴” allow the huge weapon to be slammed with great force against defensive structures that are not stone-based.

For the captains giving him quizzical looks they were a bit underequipped but to Kousaka they were already overloaded with props. It was best to use them now.

The foot soldiers yelled their battle cries as they rammed the outermost gates of Odawara open. Loud bangs, fire crackling, wood creaking then tearing in pain and they give almost immediately as their foundations were eaten up by flames.

The enemy’s first show of resistance trampled, the ashigaru and the kiba-tai brace themselves for arrows and spears flying to greet them. Perhaps expecting the enemy’s counterattack right away was ingrained on every bushi’s psyche and was not really prepared for men lined up in uniform festive outfits carrying lanterns in each hand.

This was what Kousaka had been dreading. I might love challenges but I definitely hate surprises. Strictly adhering to the original plan would mean leading the cavalry as far as the castle gates. He couldn’t be deterred until then.

He ordered both the small infantry and the main cavalry to advance and ignore the nuisance. As the Takeda army steadily poured into the Hojo territory, much to the former’s surprise the masked men began to dance. Their movements were fluid, hypnotic, and almost too skilled for the average human. Kousaka’s heartbeat started speeding up. This was not normal human behavior. In the face of dire threat like the presence of enemy soldiers in great number, the townsfolk would be screaming and scurrying away in panic.

Instead the masked figures continued to perform in a repetitive, disturbingly perfect motion… there was something like… black… water? reflecting the blaze of the torches and lanterns like a mirror on ground.

One dancer’s lantern gets too close to the sea of liquid and Kousaka’s eyes widen. Oh hell no…

It belatedly dawns on him as the black mirror ignites that these dancers with their silent, lethal steps were…

Shinobi…!

“Charge! On to Odawara-jo!” Kousaka Danjo’s clear, crisp command shakes the stunned army into action.

The risks of doing this stunt have abruptly risen into unthinkable proportions. Damn you, Ujimasa! I never thought we think so much alike! The Takeda were supposed to be the distraction and not the other way around. You mad man! The Danjo continues to utter curses under his breath as he leads half of the kiba-tai onwards. Well no matter, they got the attention… too much anyway. While the infantry diffuse to intercept the shinobi who only escaped out of reach, the cavalry were like rats running from a series of fiery traps the fleeing ninjas continue to set off as they go. It also didn’t help that the structure of the jokamachi resembled the concentric baileys of the castle’s defensive design. So the deeper they move into the heart of the town, straight towards Odawara-jo the more they play with fire, literally.

The Danjo was now torn between the success of the mission and the safety of his men. Surely, he had underestimated his opponent. He didn’t quite expect the Hojo to come up with this self-destructive strategy… that actually works. It could have been disastrous for Ujimasa if it was a windy night. The fires would have been uncontrollable enough to spread through the houses and buildings. Yet the skies were calm and the atmosphere: humid. Even The weather appears to cooperate with the confined burning of the streets. It was almost like the gods themselves were against the Takeda. This is why I don’t believe in gods and bodhisattvas. They could be so capricious to be of any use to me at all.

He already had to let go of his prize to accomplish a longer-termed goal. With the appearance of Nobutsuna, his virtually fool-proof plans were effortlessly thwarted. Kousaka was supposed to be Saburo’s savior amidst the danger of his renegade retainers when a certain “Unsui” stole the scene. He had bent his back far enough! He would oh so certainly do this for the sake of his beautiful tiger but he could hardly endure a broken spine for those elder brothers! All my love goes only to you, dear cub.

Kousaka rubbed his charger’s mane to quell agitation and pulls the reins for a roundabout halt. Rivers of fire now surround the Takeda and redundancy as he would call it: they couldn’t use signal fires. The Danjo was however, unperturbed. Even Hi-Watari⁵⁵ masters couldn’t walk on fire forever. If he survived the inferno long enough Ujimasa himself would surely pass him a bucket of water… heh, wishful thinking.

Amidst the hellish chaos he commands one of his adjutants to hand him their last key to survival: the conch shell. Valued a close second to his katana, a Sengoku general would sooner abandon his mount and fight wars on foot than fail to command large scale troops in the distance.

One heavy decision made, Kousaka brings the mouthpiece of the conch shell to his lips and blows a deep resonating note.

“All infantry withdraw from battle.”

He pauses and blows a different one this time.

“Main cavalry on fastest mounts follow me.”

“Cavalry wing retreat.”

“Cavalry wing support infantry retreat!”⁵⁶

Since the conch shell could produce five different notes it was a sound tactic for an army of bushi to know the clan’s specific signal tunes by heart. Kousaka uses this instrument to order a massive retreat while his captains blow the note to mean either cavalry or infantry. The Danjo then calls for a standby as another captain makes a distinct signal to elaborate the general’s command to mean either the flank or the main body and to either do a coordinated or distributed retreat. Since the flanks/cavalry wings were understood to have the slower, sturdier war horses they break off formation promptly. This string of command relays via sound was confusing to the enemy but was perfectly clear for the Takeda. It was the Nige-Danjo’s latest innovation for systematic retreats. A method no general could implement thus far.

The outflowing of mixed Takeda soldiers on foot and horseback made the Hojo believe that the retreat was genuine. Meanwhile Kousaka and his remaining unit of choice advance further towards Odawara-jo. “I’m not running away this time!” He throws crassly to the winds with a fiendish grin. Ujimasa might have outrun him in burning the jokamachi but Kousaka would outlast him in this race. He would bide his time and be as much of a nuisance as he could be.

XxXMOBXxX

Saburo could only watch helplessly as the approaching flames swallow his beloved Odawara like incoming waves of the sea… a most odd pattern. Barely recovering from twice being involved in fatal skirmishes he clings tighter on the shinobi in a seemingly childish gesture.

“Saburo-sama, do you fear for your life?” Fuma Akito asked.

“Do we not fear for ourselves but for the people that are dear to us?” Saburo’s reply endears the substitute protector more to him.

“If Saburo-sama is talking about his brothers, they are both safe. In fact we will be meeting Ujiteru-sama, shortly. He is in active command of one of the watchtowers.” This information produces a palpable calming effect on his charge. Saburo’s taut body loosens up in his hold. He is no longer very agitated.

The lordling didn’t know that he was put to sleep and probably relates the sluggishness of his limbs to exhaustion. “Thank goodness.” As he breathed these words however, Akito could detect a hint of dissatisfaction. Where does this stem from? Was it because of the delay of his rescue? He couldn’t help but slightly feel incompetent.

The Fuma had lately been under extreme duress. Their clan head had been called off for some unknown purpose therefore effectively making them leaderless. To fill his post, the Sagami no Kami chose Akito to take temporary command and the shinobi functioned normally like before. Little did they know what challenges await them: The suppression of an attempted coup d’état, two separate battles with the unexpected Takeda army, and lastly safeguarding the life of the master’s youngest were never easy feats. Akito nearly failed twice. Their elite force was not small in number but covering all the vulnerabilities of Odawara had their abilities stretched to the limit.

The fact that they actually succeeded in all three baffles him most of all.

He was deeply honored that the Sagami no Kami would completely put his faith on them but logic-wise, had Ujimasa-sama not considered that dividing the Fuma in several smaller units would put such strain on their manageability? Or perhaps he knew that this method would push the Fuma to exceed even personal expectations?

Akito would have been proud of these accomplishments if they didn’t have to abandon their post on the castle itself. Though Ujimasa-sama centered the weight of his military might on Odawara-jo, surrounding it with a “Moat of Fire” as the generals termed it, sacrificing the need for spies and scouts could still expose the stronghold for stealth attacks. That was of course a ninja’s opinion and hardly ever counted. Shinobi were valued for their silent subservience and dedication to the mission. Whatever thoughts and doubts they may harbor for their masters were wisely kept to themselves.

“Am I too heavy, Akito-san? I can walk on my own so you can put me down.” The small polite voice of Saburo makes him realize he was frowning.

“Ah no, Saburo-sama. That would be highly inappropriate for your stature. We are almost there.” His features relax.

A Fuma, who has facial expressions… most strange indeed, Saburo thinks to himself. He was the exact opposite of that cold one. Maybe that was why he didn’t protest being lugged around like some invalid. He is more at ease with someone who has an open countenance. Living in a fortress, having to deal with men who put their military agendas first and keep their thoughts all to themselves with no comfort from a mother or a father was taxing for a growing youth.

“I can walk just fine.” Saburo pouted; the beginnings of a rebellious streak, showing.

So different he was from that fierce lithe warrior who fought using a mere dagger blade to keep himself alive. If Saburo had not known how to fight… Akito doubted he would have reached him on time. He was already shamed to have a stranger interfere for his lordling’s safety. Curiosity disrupts his train of thought, “Saburo-sama who was that man? Why did he make a stand for you?”

Though it was highly inappropriate for shinobi to question their master’s affairs, Akito risked the impudence to confirm certain suspicions.

Saburo first became rigid and instead of naturally lashing out like an offended lord who would rightfully rebuke his insolent vassal; the youth quietly shook his head.

An emotional attachment…? Akito was taken aback. It also confused him. Had Saburo not sought Fuma Kotarou moments before wakefulness? When one was just stirring into consciousness, the mind is said to be its most vulnerable. Searching for your protector’s constant shadow yet being lulled into another man’s presence… Akito had seen it with his own eyes: The man was willing to lay his life to protect their lord despite being an outsider. But like all impartial shinobi, he remains wary.

“I apologize, Saburo-sama. That was extremely presumptuous of me.” Akito placed his charge safely on his feet while armed samurai approached from the barricade to deal with potential intruders.

They have arrived at the base of the watchtower.

Upon seeing the customary black garb of the Fuma, they quickly identified him as an ally but for specific identification he showed them his tattoo: an old distinguishable burn mark of the Fuma Crest on the inner upper arm. As Akito removed the tenugui partially covering the lower part of his face, Saburo gaped at him. The bushi had all but fallen by the future Hojo lord’s feet, prostrating to him in deep respect but were ignored.

Saburo’s astonishment was rather understandable for there stood Kotarou⁵⁷ in somewhat shorter hair, softer slanted eyes, bearing an almost affable aura with a small smile playing softly on his lips. He too knelt with much refined grace and bowed to him.

“Saburo!” A hoarse voice suddenly yelled his name and before he could turn his head fully to see the man’s face, the bushi surrounding him were hastily pushed aside (those unlucky ones who were too slow to get out of the way) and then the familiar scent and jealously protective body fiercely envelopes him in a tight embrace.

“You are safe! Safe… Alive…! Oh Saburo… I was so worried…” Ujiteru continued to murmur inanely between soft sobs, clutching the fabric of his otouto’s back until his knuckles turned white. How pathetic he must appear before his men but he could care less. The most important one was finally within his grasp.

The way Ujiteru held him, hurt but, “Aniue…” Saburo clings to him just as intensely. Home was within these arms.

TBC~

52 – The Fourth Battle of Kawanakajima was the highlight of the fierce rivalry between Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen. Kenshin was said to have personally engaged Shingen in battle where the former attacks while the latter defends with his tessen (war signal fan). One Hara Osumi-no Kami was said to dismount Kenshin and drew Shingen away safely. And then Shingen’s main force was joined by Kousaka. The timing is so impeccable so I decided to dramatically theorize that it really *might* be Kousaka who protected his Oyakata-sama. *winks;

53 – There is no way this message is sealed with Kousaka’s kiss. Basically this was another attempt at confusing the Hojo in favor of their true enemy.

54 – Man-made handles on the trunk to ease manipulation. This is medieval Europe’s Battering Ram. I was wondering why the Japanese didn’t have this siege equipment (or did they…?) but couldn’t resist putting it here.

55 – Literally means *fire walking.

56 – This chunk of italics is the translated (verbal) version of Kousaka’s sound signals to his men.

57 – Definitely the better half of Kotarou! He is an OC I created. So if he isn’t the real Kotarou, where did the original go? You’ll find out soon… for those Kotarou fans out there…J

Post A/N: This chapter put me in writer’s block! (*_*) As you can see this is more on plot than any serious happenings… Ugh. m(_,_)m
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400 Years Apart