Disclaimer: I own not a thing about or in SW3 (big surprise, I know :P).
A/N: My second SW3 fic! ..But yes, just a couple of things to note before the main show. Though this fic is set at the beginning of Motonari's story in SW3 and he looks the same, etc., I wrote it as if he was the age he was supposed to be at that time historically - that is, really quite old. Because of this I've had to (a little flimsily) explain the reason why Motonari refers to his actual grandson as 'son' in the game... It's not really important, but I thought I'd mention that. There are also SPOILERS for his first cutscene (as you might expect) and since Fan Fiction dot net seems to hate strikethrough I've had to substitute square brackets where they appear in the story. ..Anyway, on with the fic. Hope you enjoy!
Twilight Years
Life could be divided into three segments; stages, if you will. The first was common to all – the beginning, and as you might expect it was the start of everything to come. Not necessarily a calm before the storm (if such a storm was ever destined to appear), it signalled that point when you, in some immature form, began to journey down that mysterious road laid before you. It was not even mysterious – it was downright confusing – though it took some time to even consider what the nature of this road was as you were still learning how to move properly. How to perceive, how to control, how to enjoy, how to survive, how to... Everything had to be learned, or realised. You would never learn or realise everything, you would (perhaps, and ironically) understand, but you would at least gain a modicum of confidence.
By the second stage, if this came to you, you would be moving as you always did. Whatever form this took, and whether you changed it or not, progress was still being made. You did not always walk – you crawled, you ran, you even stumbled or staggered around in blind circles wondering what on Earth to do. This mattered not, for you had learned how to get back up; to rise again ideally all the stronger for whatever obstacle life threw your way. However painful it got, you met (or jumped over or avoided) every trouble and on the whole rose above it all. Heights (or depths) were achieved, and you had reached a golden (or dark) age. All your hard work and efforts (and other people's) had lead to this, and at your prime life was good (or extraordinarily, appallingly bad).
Please excuse these maybe sweeping generalisations, but you have to admit that anyone who had held a position of power generally experienced this; a certain amount of time when influence and 'majesty' was at its highest and most glorious. A culmination of everything... Efflorescence.
At this peak, a wise (or paranoid) man might think: how long will this last? For the lamentable truth was that it never did. It was called the 'prime' of your life for one reason; it was a certain time period and therefore was doomed to conclusion. Ending was a given thing, and happened in many different ways. A more extreme example of this golden time ending was by death. The very bonds holding you to life were cut, and this meant missing out on the final stage that mortal existence had to offer you.
The decline. A slippery and drawn out road tending to accompany old age that culminated in the end of your known world. In this form everything slowed and you gradually.. shut down. Death was ever in sight and thought, and it long dominated before your body caught up enough to bring you to it. It was a deterioration into the unknown.
Of course, that depended entirely on your opinion. Mouri Motonari, personally, thought that that was a rather simplistic way to look at it. He liked to take the optimistic approach, which was to see beyond the descent. Things slowed down, sure, but that didn't have to mean you had to sink into despair. It only meant you had time to look... to contemplate... to appreciate the world around you. It was a stretch in which to be unhurried and relaxed, not wallowing in misery at your body's degeneration. An opportunity for respite from the problems that the energised youth could deal with. He would go on, but Motonari realised that his opinions might be starting to make himself sound hypocritical. He had relative ease of mobility; was still sound of mind. Thankfully, his health was not failing him and he was fatigued, certainly, but he was not decrepit.
Nevertheless, it would be safe to say he'd had a long, if illuminated life. There had been adversity and triumph, sorrow and joy, a successful stretch in his post as daimyō in both military matters and hopefully in his fair dealings with his people... Yes, he had been blessed, truly, in the time he had had in this world.
However. As mentioned... He had been at it for years, fighting in the service of the people, trying to maintain some semblance of stability that he so desperately wanted for them all. Peace... And now, he would like a chance at that himself. While he still could. He was tired, you see... The long years had finally worn him down. He knew that not everybody got to enjoy that last stage that could face you in life, but Motonari really thought he deserved a nice, long rest. A prolonged duration, away from it all.
It was about time to collect. Yes, and how wonderful it was.. How wonderful it was to finally take a breather, to enjoy his remaining time at such an easy-going pace. He could take aimless walks, sit down and drink tea with a light heart, start work writing about the history of what or whoever he desired (not that he didn't do the latter already, but he got a lot more done now without any needless distractions).
"My lord!"
[...Speaking of unnecessary distractions..]
For all intents and purposes, he was dead. Motonari had to be, if he wanted a nice retirement. It was logical – to gain reprieve from particular bonds, you had to get rid of them. The easiest way (both practically and on his conscience) to do this in his case was to hand over the responsibility to someone else. Thus it had been made known that Terumoto was now daimyō, leaving Motonari free to live out his twilight years without interruption.
..Ideally, anyway. Sometimes these things didn't always go as planned. He hadn't imagined (or perhaps hadn't wanted to) that he himself would still be referred to, still be consulted for advice as though he were still 'alive' and in charge.
Really, did he have to be physically buried for them to stop discussing such matters with him? It was a little depressing.
..But his grandson wanted an answer, and as awful as this sounded not acknowledging him was not going to make him go away.
"I thought I left a will that said we were not to involve ourselves in the matters of others." Motonari said, slowly moving himself to a sitting position.
"But my lord," Terumoto protested, moving to kneel in front of him. The boy was growing to look so much like his deceased father it was almost painful to look at him."We must not allow Nobunaga to just exile the Shōgun... Or is there another problem?"
Sadly, in this world of war and power there always was. Terumoto would come to understand this, if by experience and nothing else.
"Nobunaga moves swiftly." Motonari replied, rubbing the back of his head unconsciously. And if he suspected correctly.. "You will soon know." His words proved to be a bit of an understatement, but correct nonetheless as the news of the approaching army led by Toyotomi Hideyoshi was delivered almost instantly after he spoke. The tidings were no surprise to Motonari – Nobunaga's actions were correlating exactly with the man's ever-increasing reputation.
Nevertheless..
"It is still too early to decide."
A knee-jerk reaction could not be afforded. They had to wa-
"I bring news! The Tachibana of Kyūshū are moving from the south to attack us!"
Or not. Urgh. So he's using the Tachibana, as well. Yes, that Nobunaga was definitely a man who acted swiftly. Young.. Rash.. Eager. Though Motonari in this instance couldn't help but think that Nobunaga's blazing trail was one borne from desperation, and not simple immaturity. As if he was.. running out of time and staking as much of a claim as he could while he lasted. Such an approach might not be unfounded, however, as Motonari knew from history that well-known leaders forging any kind of hefty reputation only met with an untimely death.
However the nature of Nobunaga's end, if Motonari was still around when it came to pass he would not be mourning. No, he would feel sorry for those left to pick up the pieces, those left in the wake of that trail of destruction. A mover of men and capable of leading Nobunaga might well be, but if he scored peace it would be at the cost of total ruin. Now that kind of method, in Motonari's view, was just plain heavy-handed and... tacky. It also didn't give one much hope for the future, did it?
Ah.. but this was over-analysing. It wouldn't get that far. History would repeat itself. Their current situation was not even what was particularly bothering him.
What was on his mind could be considered to be just as far-reaching into the future, though. [Funny, that, when he liked history and the past so much.]
"You know, I really wanted to be a historian. I really think I've done enough for one life..."
He had had enough of this. He had done enough of this. It was Terumoto's turn now, and the youth of today's to step up and meet these new obstacles threatening their livelihoods and future. Motonari was not arrogant, but he genuinely believed that that was it.. he'd done his lot, and by-and-large he had done it well.
"Lord Motonari!"
So why...? Terumoto was his grandson (however much he mistakenly referred to the lad as 'Takamoto' or 'son'). His grandson. He himself was a grandfather. And here he was.. Still having to effectively run their lives. Sure, Motonari could understand insecurity – everyone suffered from it sometimes (or even all the time). If you wanted to be an effective leader, though, you had to push those aside and at least think for yourself. Motonari, however healthy he was now, could not be relied upon forever.
Youthful appearance aside.. He was getting too old for this.
However.. It could not do to be so selfish. Motonari had to pick up the slack if needed as long as he were able.
So yes, for the future of his family, his clan, his people... He supposed he could drag himself back up again.. one last time.
