If I owned Sengoku Basara, then we would've had more scenes where Shingen and Yukimura were punching the ever loving hell out of each other. It's hilarious!


Emotion is a luxury you can't afford on the battlefield. Before every battle, Mitsuhide sees fit to remind me of this, in his own kindly way. At least, I choose to assume it was kindly, because enemies in your own camp are perhaps the worst kind of enemy I can think of.
So as he leaves the temple, white hair stained by the blood of the soul unlucky enough to feel the cut of his scythe, I push down the bubbling uneasiness. As bad as the smell of death is, being surrounded by its trace is enough to bring a smile to my face. A world under warrior rule would ensure only the strongest would survive. It would ensure a place for those such as me, forsaken by their legacy, but still eager to take their place in the realm.
The only problem is, not everyone is content to see it that way. Regardless of age, standing or mental state, fools exist, and it is they that stand in our way.

Lady Hiroto Sayomi, age 15


Chapter One: The Young Blade


We lived in a time of chaos then. The land was in the deepest turmoil, and there was no such thing as monotony. Very few could claim to be innocent, and those with warrior blood had a responsibility to protect them, rare as it was. And for those such as me, wrapped in the troubles of my Lord as I was, nothing mattered but the extension of his ambition.

After receiving word from my contact, it was finally time for me to make a move, dressed not in my armour and weapons, but in a pink yukata that had once belonged to Lady Oichi, and what little feminine charms I had been able to conjure up. Lady Nohime spent the better part of an hour arranging my hair and face paint just so, giving me three years more in appearance that what I had in reality.

The plan was simple, Lord Oda had long since planted one of his own men in the Imagawa army, and it was this young man I was to 'sneak out' and meet to exchange information. Were we spotted; it would be easier to claim a loving embrace than an arrest.

With a quick look at my middle, Lady Noh quickly pressed a bundle into my arms, the unmistakable face of a baby peering out. Laughing at my expression, she then adjusted my grip on the child, softly stroking his head. "It'll be more convincing." She added by way of explanation. "Remember, your contact will have to be as convincing as you, but should you feel uneasy at any point, then leave."

"Yes my lady." I wish I had her lazy confidence in this plan. As was expected of a lady of her station, she wore a form of kimono day in and out, even wearing her hair up high with ornaments that I couldn't even begin to try out.

The butterfly on her thigh reminded me who I was talking about, and with my pink against her black, I felt like a foolish child, not helped by the worry of my new burden.


And that was how I found myself pressed between two soldiers, who thankfully stayed quiet so as not to wake the baby, walking straight into Imagawa's camp. Enemy eyes stared at me, looking away with grunts when they saw the swaddling, sensing I wasn't there for entertainment purposes.

The man I sought was over by the campfire, stirring a pot of something that bubbled with an appetising tone. When he lifted his head to reply to his friend, our eyes met, fear lacing through his irises."H-Hikari! What are you doing here?"

"Why do you think?" I scoffed, holding my 'son' closer. "I wanted you to see this!" Several of the others around us laughed, one even clapping him on the back for his achievement. Pah. And Ranmaru constantly wanted to spend time in the barracks.

My contact, Yamato, pulled away from his new friends, moving the three of us away from the staring eyes of the generals surrounding us. "Okay, why are you holding a baby?"

"Nohime's idea. Now, if you want to keep your head, you'll give me the information instead of asking if he's mine."

The question tugged from his lips, Yamato held up his hands in mock defeat. "Hey, I haven't seen you in a while. Forgive a guy for thinking." The baby started whimpering, and then, just like I was dreading… "Oh for Kami's sake! Hand him over." Yamato yelled over the wailing, taking the mass of blankets from my arms.

A wonderful disguise, Lady Noh, as if that wouldn't make the other soldiers suspicious, a mother unable to quiet her own son. Luckily, just as the first few began to turn around, Yamato began to rock the kid gently, dulling the whining to a light whimper, and then back to little snuffles. Catching my surprised glance, he laughed, "I have a kid back in Owari, a wife too. Little Yoshi loved being held like this."

I didn't even know he was married, let alone a father. We'd been working in the same army since I'd been six, and I still knew squat about most of the men I worked with. If Lord Oda's plan was coming to fruition, that'd have to change. A better general would start right away, but I'd been sent there for a reason, and the kid's real mother would start worrying, "Your information?"

"Imagawa knows he's entering Oda territory. To that end, he's had three other men practise being kagemusha, bad ones I admit, but still good in a hurry. More to the point, there've been whispers of other armies, namely the Takeda and Date."

"The Takeda? They just faced off at Kawanakajima, didn't they, against the Uesugi?"

Yamato shook his head, "Apparently they didn't even draw blades. Imagine that, getting to the battlefield and then leaving?" Great, this meant the plan might have to be changed.

Trapping Imagawa in the gorge would no longer work, not if there were doubles and two more armies to consider. Gnawing on my knuckle slightly, I fished around in my sleeves, withdrawing the small pouch of coins. Handing it over to Yamato, I took the baby back, praying inside he wouldn't wake up again and burst my eardrums with that insufferable crying.

Luck was with me, and while I adjusted my hold, a few coins landed on his blanket, Yamato giving a lazy grin. "Buy yourself and Ranmaru some sweets. I figure Lord Oda hasn't had time in a while, what with uniting the country."

"Thanks, now should we depart amicably or like an old married couple?"

"Oh, old married couple definitely, I might get a few extra bowls of dinner if the men feel sorry for me." Positioning the baby in one arm, I whipped my hand forwards, catching Yamato's cheek with an ear splitting noise that had most of his friends looking over and laughing. He clutched at the red lump with his spare hand, hiding the money with his other.

"Hikari! That hurt!"

"Well next time you leave for a year without writing, think about what's waiting!" With a toss of my hair, I and the baby were leaving the camp, none of the soldiers moving to stop us. Of course that meant I was alone in quietening him, unless I wanted to be deaf when I got home.


Luckily, by the time we arrived back, the mother of the baby had come looking, and took him gratefully. Lady Noh took one look at my face and laughed, even as she washed my face of the makeup and freed my hair. We weren't done there though.

Before I could even think of reporting into Lord Oda, I had to return to looking like the general I was. After a quick trip to the baths, Lady Noh redid my hair, tying the top part into a bun, and then braiding the rest, her fingers twisting through the strands with an ease I envied. The only parts she didn't touch were the two bangs framing my face, which were simply tied with pieces of thread to keep them tidy and not in my eyes.

Once she was gone, probably to announce my return, I was able to wriggle back into my normal clothes, feeling much better as I stood in front of my mirror, going through the familiar layering system: sarashi, dress, uwa-obi. Simple as it sounded, and it was, it was only to serve as a contrast to the formal Jūnihitoe I had to wear on formal occasions.

Twisting this way and that, I made a few adjustments, feeling every inch the Blade everyone called me. A high necked tunic dress spilt either side for leg movement; the only colour was blood red detailing leading to my neck and around my shoulder area.

The shorts I wore underneath were also black, and were a few inches shorter than the hem. Finally, in place of actual sleeves, my arms were hidden from view by black bands travelling far past my elbows, the thin sheets of steel hidden in them positioned to make movement easier.

Following my reflection to the tip of my bun, I paused momentarily, wishing that I had enough courage to steal Lady Noh's face powder, and cover the two pairs of marks on my cheeks. Like my dress's detail, they were red, but more menacing, placed under my cheekbones on either side, as though a cat with only two claws had sliced at me twice.

Instead I placed a smile on my face, checked my swords were at my hip, and walked through the hallways, following the dark feelings to the war room where Lord Oda was waiting, leaning on his throne of skulls. His hard eyes bore into me, relenting only when I had bowed low, brown eyes squeezed closed whilst waiting for him to let me face him.

They called him the Fool of Owari, a nickname earned in his youth. Nowadays you would have to be very brave or very drunk to call him that, to his face or not. Even Lady Noh called him 'her Lord husband', his mother…well that was a subject you didn't broach, no matter how drunk you were. We called him the Devil King of the Sixth Heaven, a title he lapped up happily.

And he earned it, with his spiked and twisted armour, inspired by the Western traders and blood red cape. Even his moustache was malevolent, made more so by the endless times he touched it, as if it helped him to think. "Get up Sayomi, and report your findings."

"My Lord." Straightening up, I casually flicked my plait behind me, "Yamato spoke of your army spooking Imagawa. Apparently he has already prepared three body doubles in case something goes wrong."

"Troublesome fool." Lord Oda murmured, nodding as Mitsuhide came to kneel beside me, flashing a friendly grin from under his white hair as he did so. Goose bumps rose along my arms, but I carried on with my report.

"He also says there have been whispers of other armies following them, the Date and the Takeda. There was no talk of an alliance though. This may become quiet the mess on the battlefield." I added softly, more for myself than the others. Our strategies had been flawless, worked out to the last detail, and Yamato was supposed to confirm that all was well. Instead this chaos landed in our laps.

"Hmm, a four army confrontation would lead to insufferable losses…on all sides." Mitsuhide grinned, raising his head despite not being told to. "And if a few generals were caught in the crossfire, well, all the better for your plans, Lord Nobunaga."

Bristling again, this time I did speak out, turning on my fellow commander with an iron tongue,

"Sacrificing our own men may rid us of a few annoyances, but what of the Western generals or the War God of Echigo? Do you think they'll sit idly by whilst we take lands, killing their allies?"

"What do we have to fear from them? The whole idea of the Tokugawa alliance is to ensure protection as we fight for our Lord's ambition."

"If we move too fast, there's no guarantee any of us will make it out of a tussle alive!"

"Enough!" Lord Oda interrupted, storming to his feet. Ducking our eyes back down, Mitsuhide and I glared at each other. "We stick to the plan we had set, lure Imagawa in, then clamp the jaws of hell on his forces. That is, if there are no objections?" His tone was sickly sweet, almost inviting debate, but we knew better. "Good. Dismissed, the pair of you."

Nodding sharply, I drew to my full height, bowed again, and left, being sure to keep Mitsuhide within my sights at all times. He disregarded my suspicion, moving away like one of the shadows, despite the lighter shades of his chest piece and hakama. Throw in his long white hair, and it was a mystery how the man could hide anywhere.


Stepping outside into the warm sunshine, I was greeted by a rain of arrows slamming into the ground at my feet. "Ranmaru, little saru,"I murmured, moving around the first line. "Come on, I'm sorry we had to take a rain check on kenjutsu practise."

Another barrage thundered down, one narrowly missing my little toe. Sighing, I prepared to bring out my secret weapon, "I'll buy you some sweets!"

There was a soft tap, Ranmaru's boots hitting the ground in front of me, one arm clutching his precious bow, the other propping him up against the tree. "Next time I won't miss." Like always he wore his purple tunic and shorts, with two pouches with what I suspected to be filled with sugar at his hip, and a brown bandanna tied around his throat. The Mori crest was on his shorts leg, and his quiver was strapped to his back like normal.

And they say war's no place for kids.

"Next time you'll be paying for your own dango." I smirked, closing my fist tighter around the coins, letting their coolness burn into my palm. Considering this, Ranmaru stepped closer, looping the bow across his body, but still pouting. Only then did I see the bokken looped into his belt, the guilt coming over me again. "You wanna practise now?"

"Mind if we postpone it a little longer? Oda wants me on top form for the battle." Shrugging, I pulled out my katana, examining the blade. A little solo practise would go a long way for both of us. A large grin on his face now, Ranmaru moved over to a target, planting his back towards me.

My check out of the sword was a good idea. Its mirrored surface reflected the light, redirecting it into the eyes of the ninja resting over the castle's hidden entrance.

Swearing loudly in one of her other languages, Gracia scrunched her eyes closed, turning her head away. When I stopped the onslaught, she lazily opened one, scowling down at me. "Cheap move, I call foul!"

"Not given." Ranmaru called over his shoulder, nocking another arrow. Any other ninja would've just moved away, either to find a new surveillance spot or to get more sleep.

They say a skilled ninja can infiltrate even the most guarded of places, kill their target and be gone before the exterior guard knows there was an intruder. They say a really skilled ninja can do all that, and stop for tea in the kitchen as well. But there's never been a ninja like Gracia. I'm talking about a girl who can do all that, stop for tea and do it with a kid following her. Sometimes if I was quiet enough, she'd reward me with dango before taking me back home.

What made her skill even more obvious was the lack of care she took in her own safety, leaving her midriff entirely exposed for a black wraparound style shirt with purple detailing and mid thigh length skirt in the same colours. The only sign of armour she did wear were the arm and leg warmers, similar to my sleeves, hiding thin but strong steel sheets. Finally her black underwarmers had been pulled over one finger each, a sure sign she'd been shooting earlier. Probably hunting for pleasure or competing with Ranmaru.

But she bore signs of past failures as well, the scar that hid behind her ear, further covered by her brown hair, styled in a simply ponytail and twin plaits either side of her face, the inspiration for my own bangs. And her eyes, once as grey as her father's were now acid green, sent that way byyears of stray poison darts, or her own toxic creations.

The only reaction she showed to my dirty trick was a brief glare at our referee before slipping of the roof and landing catlike in front of me. We held a cautious respect for each other, restrained by my distrust of any and all shinobi and her slight blood craze when dealing with targets. "Argue with Father again?"

My lack of admiration might have also stemmed from her being Mitsuhide's daughter, but really that one was fair game.

"He wanted to send our troops to their deaths."

"Don't all samurai do that?" She quipped, raising an eyebrow at me. "Another reason I decided to choose ninja training."

"I thought it was because you wanted to spite Mitsuhide?"

"Look how well that one worked." We both grinned, knowing that her value to the clan had only gone up after she returned from training, twelve years old and already murdering politicians in their sleep. Like I said, who said war wasn't for the kids? "So go on, what about my nap was offending you?"

"It's not my fault you were in the way." I rattled the coins in my hand meaningfully. "Can you take me into town once we're done with Imagawa?"

"Depends what Oda says. Not to mention whether or not you actually survive." Ranmaru turned at those words, examining the scene, but not relaxing. Unseen by him, my eyes narrowed sharply, katana tilting slightly into a combat position. Catching the movement, Gracia raised an eyebrow, almost challenging me to do it.

Poets made their money glorifying war, turning it into a spectacle that every child wanted to be apart of. No different from the others, Ranmaru displayed an almost worrying amount of desire for the battlefield. At the same time though, he retained that innocence about death, one that very few had anymore, and it was Lady Noh's worst fear that he'd turn as accepting as the rest of us. The death of someone close to him was probably the best thing to do it as well.

Suddenly smirking, Gracia ruffled my bun, "Only joking."

As she turned to head back inside, I relaxed my stance, suddenly feeling a presence at my elbow. "Ever get the feeling she'd suit a rock to the back of her head?" I whispered, watching the entrance swallow her whole.

"All the time." Ranmaru murmured back, returning to his archery practise. Frowning still, I followed his example, executing a quick upwards slash.

Enemies in your own camp, the worst kind.