Author's Note: To anyone coming in from one of my other stories, I'd like to take the opportunity to apologize from the bottom of my heart and explain a few things concerning the horrendous lack of updates. After over a decade of loyal service, my faithful computer finally gave up the ghost. And by 'gave up the ghost', I of course mean it exploded. Literally. Unfortunately, not only did about two months' worth of paychecks go down the drain, so did everything I had on my ongoing projects along with the notes and outlines I'd written up. Once I'd managed to make all the repairs to various furniture (and walls... and flooring), I eventually managed to buy a new (used) computer and then fell into a bit of a funk.

But, like all determined people, I eventually picked myself up, gave myself a couple slaps across the face, and started over again. But while I'm redoing all of it from scratch I figured I might as well pile on a new project, just to keep myself from going insane rewriting all the scenes I'd already done, and thus I present to you Strawberry Ambitions.

As you might have guessed, this is a crossover between Bleach and The Ambition of Oda Nobuna. Far as I can tell, there are only two such crosses on the 'net, and I feel as if there's a lot of potential there which remains untapped. And by God, I'm gonna tap that bitch if it's the last thing I do!

Now, granted, I've only seen the anime based off the light novels (which I'm still looking for online and if anyone can help me I'd be grateful), but it's still something, right?

Either way, I'll not bore you anymore with this stupid rant and let you get to it. Also, the OC shinigami in the beginning is only around for about eight paragraphs, so don't drop this just for his sake. He dies anyway (whoops, spoiler!)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything which is already someone else's intellectual property. That's not how the world works, and it's not about to change anytime soon.

Warnings: As the bulk of this story is set in a version of the Warring-States Era in Japanese history, there will be a fair amount of violence, blood, gore, and other assorted nastiness. There will also be a fair amount of foul language and allusions to adult situations, though nothing explicit. You have been warned.

Chapter 1: Deathberry and the Fool of Owari

Shippai had always known he was a screw-up. The only thing he had ever really accomplished was graduating from the Shin'o Academy and enlist in the Thirteenth. From then on it had been accident after mistake after blunder after minor disaster as he was shunted from division to division. Nobody seemed to want to tell him what he'd known from the start: he was a walking calamity waiting to happen.

He'd managed to make it through the ryoka invasion by sheer chance, running headlong into a wall while he'd watched the massive cannonball containing the invaders penetrate the barrier formed by the sekkisekki walls. Shippai had awoken in the Fourth several days afterward to discover he had missed the entire invasion, the assassination of the Central Forty-Six, and the defection of three captains.

Thanks to that, he'd finally lost his seated position in the Seventh and was reduced to menial labor and supply duty for Kurotsuchi-taicho and the strange blonde-haired man with the bucket hat. Shippai had to admit that the pair made a great fake city, though, and held a certain amount of pride for the part (however small) he had played in its creation.

About an hour ago, he (along with every other spirit in Soul Society, shinigami or otherwise) had felt the monstrous reiatsu of Aizen Sousuke and the resulting battle against Kurosaki Ichigo. The wave of black energy had reportedly been seen from as far away as the Ninety-Ninth South District of Rukongai, and Shippai knew he had witnessed history in the making.

When he'd gotten the call from Twentieth-Seat Puriku that he was needed in the true Karakura Town about an hour after that cataclysmic clash between gods, Shippai had been apprehensive to say the least. However, as it turned out, they'd only called for his assistance to deliver the rapidly depowering Substitute through the Dangai because everyone else was busy with the aftermath of the fights.

And then, as Shippai buzzed through the Precipice World at his highest shunpo speed (which, incidentally, wasn't that quick), he had missed a step and stumbled. It was a normal occurrence, and one that in any other situation wouldn't be too harmful to anything besides his pride. However, this wasn't any other situation. The Dangai was a dangerous place, even without the Cleaner doing its rounds, and that fact was never more clear than when the body of the Winter War's hero was flung into the Koryu and dissolved.

Shippai blinked stupidly at the spot where Kurosaki had vanished for a few long moments before the gravity of his situation fell upon him like Zaraki-taicho's spiritual pressure. Once it had sunk in just how monumental this latest fuck-up was, he quickly arrived at the perfect solution.

The blundering unseated shinigami withdrew his nameless zanpakuto and sliced open his guts in a precise, horizontal cut. It was only after his intestines spilled forth from the wound that he realized seppuku normally required another person to make the killing blow to the neck, and Shippai died as he had lived: an epic failure.

Kurosaki Ichigo awoke to the sounds of battle, though on a far grander scale than anything he was familiar with. The last thing he recalled was suddenly feeling utterly drained of energy and a bout of light-headedness before blackness, and he winced. Had he fainted?

With a groan, Ichigo managed to sit up, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other propped him up against the dirt beneath him. He frowned as he scanned the area; fields of tall, dewy grass and thick fog obscured his vision beyond a few meters. It was completely unrecognizable to him, but the noises of war continued unabated in the near distance.

"Looks like the fight's not over yet," he muttered, pulling himself up to his feet with a tired, but determined sigh. His hand curled into a fist, and only then did he realize something was wrong.

Zangetsu was gone.

Ichigo frantically cast his eyes across the ground, searching for a clue as to his partner's whereabouts. Since the chain was no longer curled around his arm and the coat was missing, that must mean he had dropped out of Bankai, but there was no sign of any gigantic Khyber knives lying around.

It took perhaps a minute or two for his panic to recede and his mind to kick back into gear. Zangetsu was gone because he'd used his last hope against Aizen, and he cursed the man with every ounce of his heart. Not for his treacherous nature or the attempted destruction of Karakura, but for making it necessary to sacrifice part of Ichigo's soul to take the madman down.

Never again would he tear out his hair trying to puzzle out some cryptic bit of advice from the Old Man, or fight for control of his body against the Hollow, or ask what Tensa Zangetsu had meant when they had stated their goal of protecting Ichigo. A truer blow to his mental and emotional health hadn't been struck against him since Masaki's death, and Ichigo fought viciously against the pinpricks of sorrow as he silently mourned the zanpakuto who had kept him safe through the worst the Afterlife had to offer.

Ichigo's ruminations concerning his lost weapon were interrupted by a series of loud voices shouting over the rumble of hoof beats. The silhouettes of two horse riders and one on foot parted the mists and were suddenly far too close to Ichigo for comfort. The man without a horse was running like his life depended on it, and considering the nodachi and yari the two horsemen were brandishing it very well might have. All three were clad in what looked like feudal-era armor, and one of the riders bore an orange standard. Before he could inspect them further, though, they were upon him.

"Run, young man!" shouted the fleeing soldier, grasping Ichigo by the wrist and pulling him along. "Otherwise we'll both be dead!"

Ichigo's legs followed the instructions before his mind could catch up, but he continued to run alongside the man. He figured it would be better than the alternative anyway, though the pounding hooves grew closer with every passing second. He stole a glance backward just in time to see a nodachi flash toward them, and with reflexes born from hopeless battles against beings far superior to him, Ichigo threw himself at his savior and tackled him to the ground. The blade swished overhead harmlessly and the horsemen flew past them for a good few meters before they could reign in their steeds.

The fallen pair quickly regained their feet, and the man drew the katana at his side with the grim look of someone staring down their own death. Ichigo dearly wished he could do the same, but without his powers, Zangetsu would be forever out of his reach. The two riders circled around and rapidly built up speed as they once more attempted to run them down, but Ichigo was prepared this time.

His reaction times had been thoroughly skewed by fights with beings who could move faster than most humans could even comprehend, and it showed in his perception of the charging men. The one with the cavalry saber was swinging down at his head with what seemed to be all his might, but to Ichigo it was like the man was moving through molasses. He dodged the horse's forelegs and struck the flat of the blade with the back of his hand, up and away from him.

The nodachi's momentum carried it straight into the horse's neck, and with a ear-grating whinny, both steed and rider crashed to the ground. To his left, Ichigo watched the other fellow narrowly avoid getting skewered by his opponent's spear and cut the horse's legs out from beneath it.

Ichigo went to check on his adversary only to find his neck twisted unnaturally. Even a Hollow with high-speed regeneration wouldn't be coming back from that anytime soon, and it seemed as though this guy was just an ordinary human, however nonsensical that was to him. The horse was still breathing, though with blood gushing from its wound that wouldn't last long. Feeling an odd sense of detachment, Ichigo located the nodachi he'd been attacked by and stabbed it through the horse's eye, killing it instantly.

"Sorry," he mumbled, though whether it was an apology to the horse or its dead master, even he wasn't sure.

"Young man," called the other guy as he strode up. "We must hurry to where the Oda encampment is; these two were simply the outriders for the Imagawa, and soon there will be others."

"Oda?" Ichigo parroted. "Imagawa?"

"Yes," the man agreed. "Even now the battle rages further east, and soon it will be over. One way or another, though, I plan to join the Oda and pledge myself to Owari's daimyo. May I ask the name of the one who helped me?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo," the orange-haired teen replied automatically, though his mind had kicked into full overdrive as he pieced together the information he'd gathered in the scant minutes he'd been conscious.

The Oda and Imagawa were two clans in the Sengoku period, which fit with the armor and weapons he'd seen thus far. So either he'd somehow found himself amidst some weird warring-states LARP session, which seemed unlikely if his new pal's dismissal of two dead bodies were anything to go by...

... or the Mugetsu had done more than just relieve him of his powers and sent him back in time by about four hundred-odd years. Either way, he'd need to stay alive long enough to figure a way back, and without his powers that was one hell of a daunting prospect to face.

Abandon your fear, an echo of a memory floated to the forefront of his mind. Look forward. Move forward and never stop; You'll age when you pull back, you'll die if you hesitate.

Even when you're gone, you're still advising me, Ossan, Ichigo thought wryly.

"Alright, let's go," Ichigo nodded. "Lead the way... ah..."

"My name is Kinoshita Tokichiro," the man replied to the unasked question, and Ichigo's brain once more ground to a halt.

He'd done a whole lot of studying in order to prove to others that he was more than just some punk kid with weird hair, and he'd become fascinated with the Sengoku Period more than any other era of history. Therefore, he knew exactly who Kinoshita Tokichiro was, or to be more precise, who he would become. Ichigo was momentarily struck dumb by the fact that he was in the presence of Toyotomi Hide-fucking-yoshi, the great unifier of Japan and the man who had brought the warring-states era to a decisive end.

"Let us be off," Tokichiro announced, and started running again. Ichigo followed, his thoughts all scattered and barely cognizant enough to keep his appropriated nodachi from tangling his legs.

So not only had Ichigo been flung back in time, but apparently far back enough that Tokichiro was still unaffiliated with Oda Nobunaga, another of the prominent figures in his country's history. To be honest, Ichigo was kind of excited; Nobunaga had been something of a role-model for him. A man who had been so far ahead of his time that everyone called him a fool, and yet Nobunaga had ignored them and stuck to his guns until the very end. It was largely thanks to Oda that Toyotomi was even able to bring the country together as he had, and to be able to meet the man was something Ichigo had never in his wildest dreams thought might happen to him (even after all the weird spiritual shit started up).

His musings were shattered by an explosive blast that somewhat reminded him of a ragged volley of gunshots, and seconds later he saw Tokichiro stumble and fall. Ichigo skidded to a halt and knelt beside the future unifier, who was clutching at a hole in his breastplate that leaked blood like a broken faucet.

"C-caught by a stray bullet," stammered Tokichiro, sounding almost amused if it weren't for the obvious agony in his voice. "What a way to die..."

Dread pooled in his gut as Ichigo assessed the damage with the eyes of someone who had seen his fair share of wounds, both as a shinigami and an orderly in his father's clinic. Without any supplies on hand, there wasn't much he could do, and even if they were near civilization, medical practices in the 1500s weren't all that great anyway.

"My dreams of becoming a noble and having my own castle will never be realized," he grunted, then grasped Ichigo by the front of his shirt, his eyes shining with desperation. "Kurosaki Ichigo, was it? Please, take up my dream and make it happen, would you?"

"You can't die," Ichigo found himself saying numbly. "You're Toyotomi Hideyoshi. If you die here, history will become all screwed up! Weren't you going to help Nobunaga fight the good fight?"

"Nobunaga?" confusion bled into his unfocused gaze. "The leader of the Oda clan's name is... Nobuna..."

Ichigo watched with no small amount of panic as the life drained from Tokichiro's visage and his hand fell to the ground with a certain sense of finality. Toyotomi Hideyoshi was dead, and he was stuck in a past that might not even lead to the future he knew. This wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had happen to him, but it was very close to it (top five, at the very least). There was only one thing he could say that he felt truly encapsulated his emotions and the situation he was in.

"FUCK!"

More hoofbeats grew nearer, and Ichigo barely had time to throw himself aside before a beautiful white horse streaked past him, bearing a woman cloaked in red. She paid him no mind as her stare focused on a group of samurai on horseback heading toward her position.

One of them aimed his spear at her, and she ducked aside. The ribbon which held her blonde hair up was cut in half, and a curtain of gold flowed after her as she leapt off her horse and sliced at the spearman. Another soldier jumped off his saddle toward her, and though she blocked it, her blade was broken and the tip spun away, stabbing into the ground mere inches from Ichigo's foot.

"I'll have your head on a pike, Oda!" declared the samurai brazenly, raising his katana at the unarmed woman. Ichigo's protective instincts flared up angrily, and he quickly stepped in front of the woman, leaning the nodachi against his shoulder as he once had with Zangetsu.

"Oi," he said in a casual voice that was at odds with the rapid beat of his heart. "Isn't attacking an unarmed opponent considered dishonorable?"

The samurai hesitated, perhaps due to the dissonance of his calm amidst a battle, then steeled himself when the rest of his cohorts arrived. "Do you presume to fight in your daimyo's stead?" he demanded, and Ichigo flicked his eyes at the nodachi with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think?" he shot back.

One of the men still on horseback snapped, "Hurry up and kill him so we can do the same to Oda."

"Right," the other stated, and shot forward. Once more, Ichigo was surprised at how slow his opponent was moving, and easily jinked to the side to avoid the downward slash. He kicked the back of the samurai's knee and sent the armored warrior crashing to the ground before rapping the nodachi across the man's knuckles to disarm him, and then whacked the flat of the blade against his helm to render him unconscious.

"You next, assholes?" Ichigo asked, pointing the nodachi's tip toward the horsemen. A snarl tugged at the foremost samurai's lip, but it was soon replaced by terror as the drumming of more hooves preceded a regiment of cavalry from charging at him from behind Ichigo and the blonde girl.

"Shit!" growled one of the enemy horsemen. "It's the Oni Shibata! Retreat!"

Ichigo glanced toward the one they'd indicated. He recalled that nickname as the one given to Shibata Katsuie, but the person at the head of the charge was a brunette woman bearing armor and a European-style halberd.

"We almost had the general of the Oda!" the lead samurai complained as he and the others wheeled their horses around and galloped away as quickly as their horses could go.

"General of the Oda?" Ichigo frowned, looking at the blonde just as the brunette drew her horse to a halt beside them.

"Are you alright?" she asked of the blonde, who nodded curtly.

"Yes, I am," the red-cloaked woman replied, jerking her head toward Ichigo. "Thanks to this man here. Now, quit lollygagging and get the Imagawa off my lands!"

"Of course," the brunette saluted and rode off.

"As for you," the blonde turned her attention to him, dipping her chin slightly. "I am grateful for your assistance, though I could have handled them on my own."

Despite his growing suspicions, Ichigo snorted in disbelief, stabbing his nodachi into the soil in front of him. "Right, with a broken katana and no horse or back-up. I could tell you had them at your mercy."

Her brows knit together in a scowl that Ichigo was grudgingly impressed by. "How dare you speak to your general in such a disrespectful manner?" she snapped. "I am Oda Nobuna, head of the Oda clan and daimyo of Owari!" She threw her hand out to the side, and her red cloak flew outward, billowing majestically behind her.

In response, Ichigo slowly clapped his hands together. "Impressive introduction," he drawled sarcastically, reminded oddly of Don Kanonji by the display. "I've seen better, but still, very imposing."

"Do not mock me, fool!" Nobuna shouted, pointing at him accusingly. "You should be praising the gods that I would even deign to thank such a lowly foot soldier as you!"

"The gods are cruel bastards if they think your presence is a gift," Ichigo retorted without missing a beat, and he watched with private amusement as her face became more and more flushed with rage.

Nobuna made an obvious attempt at reining in her anger, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before fixing him with a glare. "Regardless, you did render assistance that... may or may not have been essential to my continued survival," she spoke through gritted teeth. "Therefore, I formally request your presence when we return."

"Alright, then," he agreed readily, thoughts racing. Now that Hideyoshi was dead, someone would need to step up and fill his legendary shoes, and the monkey-faced man had asked Ichigo to take up his dreams with his dying wish. It'd be disrespectful of him not to do so, and if there was one sure-fire way to survive long enough to figure out a way back it was to stand with the ma—er, woman who would one day be revered as one of the three unifiers of Japan.

Nobuna blinked at his easy acceptance, then schooled her features and nodded once more. "Very well, then. Fetch my horse, and we'll be off once Katsuie returns."

Ichigo bit his tongue to stifle the instinctive response that she could go shove it where the sun didn't shine. He and authority had never truly gotten along, even before his mother had died, and being flung into the past of some bizarro parallel world hadn't changed that at all. On the other hand, he would need Nobuna's patronage if he wanted to make it in this place and he could damn well suck it up. The thought of never seeing his sisters again made him smother his contrary nature and start heading toward the white horse a short distance away.

"Here, pony," he called soothingly, clicking his tongue to catch its attention. He felt a twitch develop in his eye when he heard a soft snickering from behind him and once again reminded himself of his loved ones waiting for him. This is going to be tougher than I imagined...

"So, Orange-Hair," Nobuna said, pinning the young man with her stare. She'd changed into her informal attire as soon as they'd gotten back to Kiyosu Castle and though she felt as comfortable in her armor as she did without, it really did feel good to shuck the steel and lacquered wood. "Just who are you?"

The man who had stepped in and fought in her place was kneeling before her, with the same impudent scowl he'd worn since she had met him. Nobuna would give credit where it was due; he'd gone up against five armed and armored cavalrymen with nothing but a nodachi and garments thoroughly unsuited for the battlefield with no hint of fear or trepidation whatsoever. She could respect such bravery, even if she did think it was rather foolhardy.

To either side of her sat Nagahide Niwa and Shibata Katsuie, both of whom had their own eyes trained on their guest. Katsuie seemed to be trying to glare a hole through his head, likely due to the unfortunate exchange the two had shared on the march home, but he simply bore it with that stolid frown. Niwa, on the other hand, was inspecting him as she might a particularly interesting forest creature which had caught her attention. She had informed those who hadn't accompanied her of the incident, and her chief tactician apparently found him rather fascinating. Faithful Inuchiyo, who was sitting to Katsuie's left, simply stared off into the middle distance, uncaring of the situation at hand.

The man heaved a put-upon sigh and closed his eyes, which irked Nobuna to no end. Here she was, being so magnanimous to this loathsome bastard and he has the gall to act like he was doing her a favor. Her anger won out over her better nature, and she launched herself at him foot-first.

Her sole connected solidly with his face, and he reeled backward. She gleefully stomped on him a bit, growling. "I requested your name, fool! I suggest you answer me!"

To her surprise (and consternation), she felt a hand wrap around her ankle before the world was suddenly inverted, and it took all the grace and agility her training had imbued her with to not land in an undignified heap.

"My name is Kurosaki Ichigo, you madwoman!" he snapped, returning to his kneeling position. "And if you would be so kind, I don't appreciate people stepping on me!"

"Oh, my," Niwa snickered behind her fan. Katsuie half rose, reaching for her blade, but Nobuna stood up before the newly-named Kurosaki and held a hand out for her to halt.

"Strawberry, huh?" she smirked, and she knew she'd touched a nerve by the twitch in his eyebrow. "That's an odd name for such a scruffy man."

"My name isn't 'strawberry'," he snarled. "It's 'Ichi', as in 'Ichitosho', and 'Go', as in 'Shugo Tenshi'." Nobuna drew up short, considering the name. It certainly fit, given that he'd stepped in front of her as soon as that Imagawa soldier had threatened her while unarmed. First Guardian, she tested it out in her mind and found it to be to her liking.

"Now that we know what to call him," Niwa said serenely, "we should give our Strawberry a position befitting his low standing in the court."

When Ichigo's expression gained a mulish cast as he shot a dirty look at Niwa, Nobuna hummed thoughtfully to regain his attention. "Hm... well, it felt good to step on him, so he can be my sandal-bearer."

Niwa smiled, snapping her fan shut. "That's absolutely perfect," she agreed. "Seventy points!"

For a moment, it looked like Ichigo would argue, but with an unexpected amount of restraint he swallowed whatever retort he had ready and placed his forehead against the floor. "Thank you for bestowing such an honor upon me, Oda-sama."

"Such kow-towing doesn't really suit you, Guardian," Nobuna stated, and he raised his head with a curious tilt to his frown. "You don't strike me as the type of man to bow and scrape like a dog begging for handouts."

He shot a smirk up at her. "No," he admitted. "But if it's you, I suppose I can swallow my pride."

Nobuna felt the blood rush to her face as she processed his words. What sort of thing was that to say to someone? "A-and just what do you mean by that?" she demanded.

"You're Oda Nobuna," he said with a shrug. "One day, you're going to be remembered as the one who unified this country and brought peace to an era of war. People will speak your name with respect, and you're gonna show everyone who called you 'fool' just how wrong they were."

The utter certainty in his eyes as he spoke rendered her momentarily speechless, along with her three companions. An odd feeling rose in her chest, the same one she felt when her father or the missionary would listen to her dreams and ambitions with expressions of pride and wonder.

It felt like acceptance, and from a person who had only known her for less than a day at that. From anyone else, Nobuna might have thought they were using honeyed words to ingratiate themselves to her. Ichigo, however, spoke with the blunt tone of a man stating simple fact, and he didn't really seem like the fraudulent sort anyway.

"Quite the stirring speech," Niwa murmured, a new light of respect shining in her eyes. "Eighty points."

"What's the twenty-point deduction for?" he asked, looking honestly curious.

"Nobuna-sama has yet to extend her influence beyond Owari," she replied candidly. It was one of the major reasons Nobuna kept Niwa around, to keep her from getting a big head over things. "Whether or not your statements will come to pass have yet to be decided."

Ichigo dipped his head. "True enough," he conceded. "But as long as you'll have me, I'll help in whatever way I can."

Nobuna thought back to the ease with which he had managed to disarm and knock out that Imagawa samurai with three quick strikes, and cocked her head to the side. "You seem fairly handy with that nodachi," she said. "Why don't we see just how skilled you are?"

A confident grin bared his teeth. "Now that's something I can do without question," he remarked. "How are we gonna do this?"

"Katsuie," Nobuna barked, and the Shibata woman snapped to attention. "How would you like to have a little spar with our new Strawberry?"

An evil smirk spread across Katsuie's visage. "It would be my utmost pleasure," she answered immediately.

Ichigo stood on the dusty training grounds across from Katsuie. He'd been given a shinai and some practice armor a few minutes ago, and she bore the same armament. However, he'd never been given any formal sword training before; every last bit of his skill with the blade had been gained through hard-fought battles and victories won by the skin of his teeth. Against a proper samurai, and one who had earned the nickname 'Oni Shibata' in an age chock-full of powerful warriors, he was starting to feel just a little nervous.

The fact that she still hadn't dropped that scary smile was only making it worse. Why had he opened his stupid mouth about the bouncy breastplate? He'd seen all manner of weird shit in his short life, wobbly armor shouldn't have even made him blink. He silently cursed his teenage hormones and desperately tried to think unsexy thoughts.

That creepy clown-captain's face... Yamamoto naked... Nel... no, not that Nel; when she was a kid, shit!

Before Ichigo could banish the mental image of the beautiful green-haired Arrancar in torn clothing, he heard Nobuna's voice ring out across the field. "Begin!"

Katsuie was suddenly upon him with an overhead slash. His perception of time was still maxed out, but even so Katsuie's movements were just about regular, which meant that she was fast. He barely dodged the first blow and raised his shinai to intercept the follow-up, swinging across her chest (Don't think about her chest! he reminded himself urgently).

Even still, the force behind the attack sent him skidding back on the balls of his feet, and he just managed to recover when she struck again, this time with a ground-to-sky cut that sent him reeling when he attempted to redirect it. Katsuie apparently didn't take too kindly to his remarks on the road, and wanted to let him know in the best way she knew how.

He did his best to weather the onslaught, but despite his enhanced reactions she still managed to sneak in a few well-placed hits that really did some damage despite the non-lethal weapons. Finally, he saw his opening when she stabbed toward his shoulder.

Quick as a flash, he looped his arm over the bamboo blade and trapped it between his arm and ribs, then buried his knee into her gut. The practice armor cushioned the impact somewhat, but she was still sent reeling backward, and he took the initiative before she could regain her balance.

He sent strike after strike raining down on her from every angle, using every trick he'd ever learned in a risky gamble. To her credit, she either dodged or parried each one as it came, though she was kept on the back foot against his aggression. However, he was slowly lulling her into thinking he was sticking to a pattern in his assault. Overhead, stab, left, right, diagonal upward, and back to overhead.

Finally, when he felt like she was about to take advantage of a perceived weakness, he went low instead of high and tangled the shinai between her legs as she stepped back, locking them up and sending her tumbling to the ground. He quickly snatched up his practice sword and placed the blunted tip against her collarbone.

"Yield?" he gasped, only just then realizing how winded he was. That had taken more out of him than he'd expected, and he frowned when he came to the conclusion that he'd need to do a lot of stamina conditioning if he wanted to survive in this world.

"Yield," she spat, glaring up at him with eyes full of hatred, though there was a glimmer of esteem peeking out as well.

He removed the shinai and held out a hand, offering her one of his rare smiles. "That was a damn good fight," he said respectfully.

Katsuie hesitated a moment longer before grasping the proffered hand and allowing him to haul her to her feet. "To you as well," she acknowledged with a jerky nod. "I've never seen such a style before, but you wield it well."

"I never had formal instructions in the art of the sword," Ichigo confessed. He rolled his shoulders experimentally, wincing as the motion pulled at a newly-forming bruise on his side. "I can see why they call you 'Oni Shibata'," he complimented. "You've got one hell of a swing. I'll be feeling those hits for a week."

Katsuie looked surprised at his admission. "So all that was instinctive?"

He shook his head ruefully. "Nah," he denied. "Nearly every battle I've fought in, I was hopelessly outclassed. It was either learn fast or die fast, and I guess we know which option I chose."

"Indeed," she snorted in amusement. "Though, for a mere foot-soldier to have lived thus far, you must have quite a bit of raw natural talent to go with your being such a quick study."

"Maybe," he shrugged, turning aside as his face warmed up. He looked over to where Nobuna and the other two were spectating and raised his hands questioningly. "So is that good enough for you?"

The woman with the red ribbons in her indigo hair, who had been introduced as Nagahide Niwa, fluttered the fan she held in a manner which reminded Ichigo eerily of Geta-Boshi. "An excellent bout between two talented warriors," she declared with an elegant smile. "Ninety-two points."

Nobuna sniffed and stared at him down her nose. "I suppose it's an acceptable amount of skill for one of my soldiers," she allowed. "What do you think, Inuchiyo?"

The short girl to her right who bore a spear and wore a tiger-skin cloak shrugged indifferently. Ichigo wracked his brain and eventually placed the name as the nickname for Maeda Toshiie, Nobunaga's childhood friend. "I could beat them both, either way," she muttered, causing Katsuie to bristle indignantly.

"What was that, you little munchkin?" the brunette demanded, then wrapped her arms around her chest, accentuating certain areas of her physique. "Is it just that you're jealous of these?"

"Can someone just show me where I'm staying?" Ichigo said, clearing his throat uncomfortably. "I'd rather take a quick rest after that, and I don't really have anywhere to go..."

"Ah, right," Nobuna slapped a fist into her open palm. "Inuchiyo, please escort Strawberry to his new accommodations."

"Very well," the spear-wielding chibi intoned, gesturing for Ichigo to follow her as she turned and began walking away. "Come with me." With a roll of his eyes, Ichigo touched two fingers to his temple in a mocking salute and hurried after her.

After-Action Report: And there we have it; the very first chapter of my very first story of the new year, even if it is a month in. Crossing over stories is pretty tough when you need to take a character from one setting and toss them into a completely foreign one like in this one. Sometimes it's simple, as with my Strawberry of the Wild's cross, other times it's difficult, like in The Leaf's Guardian. I figured, why not have the insertion be entirely accidental?

Enter Shippai. His name is Japanese for 'mistake', and I sorta feel bad for creating him just for that purpose, but hey, a contrived coincidence is a contrived coincidence however you wanna do it, right? As for the actual method, the Koryu and the Kototsu are made of the same... uh, stuff and it has been stated that if someone is caught by either they'll be flung either forward or backward in time, and the journey will kill them. Then again, Ichigo's not just some rando, and it's almost like the Dangai was created for the sole purpose of creating crossover fanfic. Thanks again, Kubo. You're a class-act, buddy.

As for Ichigo's knowledge of the Sengoku Period, he's a pretty good student all things considered. I think in that episode where the class rankings are shown he's somewhere in the mid-twenties if I recall correctly. Certainly not as smart as Ishida or Inoue, but it's a damn good score when you think about it. And I think Oda Nobunaga is someone Ichigo would have looked up to, a rebel with a cause who didn't give a flying fuck about what others thought of him and pressed on regardless. So Ichigo will have a fairly good idea about what's going on and who's who. Not quite on par with Yoshiharu, but he'll know the major events which occurred during that time period at the very least.

There will also be a certain amount of uplifting going on due to Ichigo's future knowledge. I'm unsure about what happens in the LNs, but Yoshiharu never really does anything to make everyday life better in the anime, at least nothing that is shown. Ichigo, however, was raised in a household that doubled as a family clinic, so he knows a fair amount about modern medicine. There won't be a sudden influx of antibiotics and stuff, but he's got a lot to offer as far as the germ theory of disease and basic optical microscopes go.

(Germ theory, by the way, wasn't really widely accepted until about the eighteen hundreds, and microscopes weren't even invented until the tail-end of the fifteen-hundreds so there's a great deal of work for him to do in that regard)

He'll also give them a pretty good idea of the wheellock and early flintlock designs, but that will be barely within the scope of his understanding and will only know about it thanks to Keigo going on about it (Keigo's a gun nut in this fic).

Either way, thanks for reading. Please leave a review telling me what you think, whether you enjoyed it, hated it, or a weird combination of the two.

Oh, and here's an omake that didn't quite fit into the narrative. It's the march home, and the reason Katsuie is so hostile toward Ichigo.

Omake: Boobs of Steel

Shibata Katsuie glanced at the orange-haired man who had saved her master as the army headed back to Owari, wondering where he'd come from. She certainly didn't recall such a person within her regiment, and she doubted she'd forget such a unique hair color among the rank and file. He also seemed to be rather comfortable with the nodachi he had propped against his shoulder, which was odd for a foot-soldier. They were normally drilled in pike formations and arquebus volleys, but to wield a field sword so casually spoke of an unorthodox training regimen.

He seemed to sense her gaze upon him, for his dark brown eyes rose to meet hers before straying lower. Katsuie's brow furrowed angrily when she realized where he was looking, and she called him on it immediately.

"Wh-what are you staring at, cretin?" she demanded hotly, and to her surprise his face flushed as he turned away.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I just..." he scratched his cheek awkwardly with his free hand before meeting her eyes once more. "What is your armor made of?"

She was taken aback by the question. "Steel, of course," she answered. "Why do you ask?"

He cleared his throat, and his gaze bounced between her chest and face again. "Your... ah... your breastplate, uh, jiggles..." He trailed off, turning red again. "It's not something I'm used to seeing from steel, or really any kind of metal."

Katsuie felt her cheeks heat up, and her first reaction was to grip her katana's scabbard and push her thumb against the tsuba to loose the blade collar. "Keep your eyes to yourself, lech!" she shrieked as she made to draw her blade.

"Katsuie." She halted in her actions and turned to Nobuna. "He might be annoying, but he did save my life. Please save your vitriol until after I have thanked him."

"So you admit I saved your ass, then," the man called to the daimyo, who utterly ignored him, though the stiff set of her shoulders told Katsuie that she had heard him. He shook his head and sighed, muttering, "What a fucking day."

She silently agreed with the sentiment.

Hope you liked it! Have a great day!