Chapter Three: Tokin

After the humiliating training session ended, I followed Shingen through the labyrinth of corridors, gardens and interior structures to a centrally located room in the castle, where three women – seamstresses apparently – were working on various sewing projects. When we appeared in the doorway, their conversation hushed, then picked up again with blushes and giggles and voices that rose an octave in excitement.

Shingen bowed to them. "A garden of the prettiest flowers in Kasugayama." Then he seated himself next to a woman about my own age – wait! I knew her. Or rather, I had seen her before, in Azuchi – she had once come into the booksellers to retrieve that bookworm, Mitsunari. Unlikely that she would recognize me now, since I'd been disguised as an old man at the time.

Shingen gave her an even deeper bow. "Goddess, you become more beautiful every time I see you. By this time next month, I will have to shield my eyes to behold your radiance." The Goddess in question rolled her own eyes, though a slight blush indicated that she was not completely unaffected.

He turned to greet each of the women, "Angel, that color you're wearing brings out the sparkle in your eyes," he said to a pretty girl in a soft pink kimono. To the other seamstress, he said, "Sweetheart, you're glowing. Motherhood clearly suits you. How is the little one doing?"

That netted him three blushes, two sighs, one fluttered hand to the heart, and a burst of information about a four month old boy who had learned to roll over, but not back (which apparently said infant was not pleased about). All through the monologue, Shingen, smiled and patted her hand, which in turn caused more blushes and sighs from all the women.

If you bottled that charisma, you could probably solve the fossil fuel crisis.

Greetings taken care of, Shingen turned back to the 'Goddess.' "Mai, this is Katsuhira, my new courier, who could use some things to wear."

Oh? This was Sasuke's friend Mai, who was now "with Kenshin"? Huh. Somehow, I had expected her to be lying on a divan eating peeled grapes, not sitting in a room embroidering butterflies around the edges of a silk… something-or-other. Then she aimed a sweet smile at me, and I began to understand.

I explained my clothing dilemma. "Please don't go to any trouble. I'll take castoffs if they're available. Anything basic and dark." Even the modern version of Katsuko had lived mostly in blue, grey, and black athletic gear. I still mourned the loss of the hoodie I'd worn when I arrived in this era. I'd slept in it every night – it had become a security blanket. But after a couple years, it had disintegrated (although Fume had helped that process along by putting extra lye in the wash kettle.)

"Ignore him, he's got boring taste," said the man who wore his kimono lower than a porn star at a nightclub – had it dipped even more since we entered the room? If it plunged any deeper he'd be in danger of a serious wardrobe malfunction. "I'll leave him in your lovely and capable hands."

Once Shingen left, the other women picked up their conversation again, this time with added sighs and coos and musings about the size of his… feet (definitely a euphemism). Mai pointed to a mark on the floor and brought out some leather strips that she used to measure me. "Don't look so worried, Katsuhira. I like to make clothes that make people happy, so if you want dark clothes…" She paused, and gave me a questioning look.

I assured her that I did. "Dark and unrestricting clothing. I do a lot of riding and climbing trees, so I need freedom of movement." Additionally, there was that need to disguise my figure, although the leather corset-binder-instrument- of-torture-thing that I wore around my breasts did a good job of that.

"Then that's what you shall have." She grabbed a piece of paper and brush and made a quick sketch. Even upside down, it looked like a pretty good drawing. I wondered if she would be able to make a copy of the portrait of Toshiie that Francisco had done a few years back. That drawing was the last link to a life that was becoming dimmer and dimmer in my mind. Sometimes I wasn't even sure if I remembered exactly what my brother looked like, and often unrolled the drawing to refresh my memory. After so much handling, the drawing was fairly battered - it would be great to have a backup drawing before this one disintegrated like my hoodie.

"Are you alright?" Mai broke into my mental doom scrolling.

"Oh. Yes, I'm fine." Had I spaced out and missed something she'd said to me? "Why do you ask?"

"You looked sad." She shook her head. "I have what I need here, Katsuhira. I'll get something for you to wear as soon as I can."

Shortly after that, I presented myself in Shingen's room for his instructions. It was impressive how he managed to look simultaneously businesslike and decadent, as he lounged on the floor behind a writing desk. The decadence might be because he hadn't bothered to readjust his kimono after flirting with the seamstresses. Maybe he needed to give his pecs some air? Perhaps they were like dogs and would eat the futon if they didn't get taken outside at least twice a day.

Before I could get too distracted by that weird cartoonlike image, my attention was caught by something else. On the corner of the desk was wooden burr puzzle – looked like he was using it to weigh down the end of the scroll he was reading. My fingers itched to take it apart and reassemble it, and I put my hands behind my back so I wouldn't reach for it. Puzzles are my kryptonite.

Shingen noticed where I was looking. "It's a puzzle my cousin found for me – he tends to prowl antique stores and other curiosity shops. He believes it came from China." He picked it up and removed one of the planks. "I'd take the whole thing apart and show you, but there are over seventy pieces and I would need half the afternoon to put it back together again."

Well, it was not in my job description to play with toys, even though the puzzle was an undeniable temptation. So, I turned my focus back to Shingen, who handed me the stack of messages that had been sitting under the burr. Most were addressed to various women.

I'm delivering his love letters?

"Do you need a map?" he asked.

"I can figure it out." I hadn't been to the town of Kasugayama in my many travels, but most places tended to be laid out in a similar fashion. "I learn more things by getting lost anyway."

That earned me a sharp look as the lolling rogue turned into an attentive general in an instant. "How so?"

"Don't worry, I'm not planning to get lost. But it's the best way to see a place from the ground up. You find out where all the blind alleys are, what to avoid, who is helpful, who is not." I shrugged. "If you don't get lost, you only know the most direct routes from place to place. At some point, the most direct routes are the ones you need to avoid."

He tapped his fingers on the desk. "That's a useful philosophy," Shingen said. "Oh, and don't forget the confections from the Teahouse."

"Anything specific?" I asked, mentally adding "food delivery" and "romantic go-between" onto my invisible resume.

"Tell them it's for me. They know what I like."

That didn't surprise me in the slightest.

It didn't take long at all to deliver most of the messages (and I didn't get lost), although the recipients I connected with in person were disappointed and concerned that Shingen hadn't come in person. "Is anything wrong? Where is he?" Questions like these were the running theme of the day.

"He's just busy," I kept repeating.

He had seemed busy, although the revelation that he normally made this circuit in person suggested that he had taken me in out of pity. I resolved to make myself extremely useful. The last thing I wanted was to lose another place, especially just one day after losing the previous one.

At least that was my thinking prior to the last message…

My final delivery was, in a sense, a message to me, a stark reminder that this world was dangerous. Unlike the other places, where I had been simply directed to drop off the packet at a designated shop or house, my instructions were to hand this one to "Chiyome," in person.

Chiyome was older than I had expected one of Shingen's lovers to be, but I would describe her as having good bones. Once I gave her the packet, she instructed me to wait. That was not unusual in itself, until one of her retainers grabbed me and held a knife to my throat.

I froze (as you do at knife point). Even if I grabbed my sword, I wouldn't be able to do anything before the man slit my throat. Once again, I had forgotten the basic rule of Sengoku – anyone can find a reason to kill you.

Ok… breathe in feelings of calm and peace. Breathe out… there is no reason to kill me. (I am not the droid you are looking for). In… calm and peace. Out… no reason to kill me. In… calm and peace. Out… no reason to kill- Unless… what if she already had a reason? What if Shingen had sent me here to be killed?

"Show me your hands," she said.

Mystified, I held my hands out to her. They were somewhat dry and calloused, but I couldn't see how that would make any difference. She turned them, over her touch neither overly rough nor gentle, examined every inch of my skin, even checked under the tips of my chewed-up fingernails.

Finally, Chiyome let go of my hands, then picked up the as yet unopened message. When she unfolded it, a cloud of dark oily powder arose, clinging to and smudging every surface it touched.

It had been a test.

If I had decided to sneak a look at the message – and, admittedly, had I still been working for Aki, I might have done so - that powder would have gotten all over my hands – I imagined it was a substance not easily removed. If my hands had not passed inspection, Chiyome would likely have told her guard to either kill me… or take me prisoner and turn me back over to Shingen… and he would probably have killed me.

Shingen didn't trust me.

Good. To. Know.

Briefly, I considered playing dumb and asking her what was going on. But I imagined she was going to send a report on our encounter to Shingen, and I didn't want to have to keep up a village idiot act indefinitely. That kind of thing is a lot of work. Instead, I settled for a purposefully dry, "Will there be a reply?"

"No."

Right. Returning not-dead would be response enough.

At the Teahouse, the mention of Shingen's name prompted the, at this point, expected, blushes and giggles and painful glass breaking vocal pitches from the women who worked there. While I waited for them to prepare his order, I leaned against the wall, inhaling the fragrance of sweet pastry and enjoying the sensation of being not-dead.

It looked to be a popular spot, and most of the tables were fill—

!

Underneath a tapestry depicting silkworms in a mulberry tree, sat an extremely familiar "old man." He had a shogi game set up on a table and appeared to be waiting for an as yet unknown opponent. The old man glanced at me, then "accidentally" knocked several tiles off the table. One slid to a stop at my feet.

I picked up the piece and slapped it on his table. "Aki! You almost got me killed!" My words came out in a tone somewhere between a stage whisper and an angry hiss.

"Interesting. It took less than two days for you to develop an overdramatic sensibility, Katsu." He busied himself in the task of setting the game back up. "Do you have time for a game?"

"No. I have to bring my new master's pastry to him. Presuming he's not still plotting to kill me." Since I knew as soon as that came out of my mouth, I would be accused of being overly dramatic, I explained what had happened with the message and the black powder.

Aki seemed unconcerned. Somehow this bothered me almost as much as the knife-to-the-throat situation.

"Think about it," Aki said. "If you had opened that letter in the street, what would have happened?"

"That powder would have all over my hands." Possibly my clothes too if it had been windy.

He was still annoying calm. "Then… what would you have done next?"

"Run like hell… although, since you threw me out, I don't know where to." Still feeling incredibly put upon, I crossed my arms and glared at him.

"You look like a girl when you do that. Stand up straight." He took his walking stick and tapped the back of my leg with it.

I adjusted my posture. The glare stayed in place. "What the hell is going on?"

Aki picked up a Shogi piece, and showed to me. It was a pawn. With unnecessary ceremony (and he accuses me of being overly dramatic?) he flipped it over to the tokin side, signifying that it had been promoted to a position of greater power. He gently placed it in the palm of my hand and closed my fingers over it.

Message received.

I felt the comfort of the familiar weight of the tile and the cool texture of its polished wood surface. "You couldn't have warned me first?"

"It was an instant decision. I had to make a judgment call." Typical of Aki to parrot my own words back to me. "Your reaction needed to be spontaneous and natural – Shingen is remarkably astute at reading people… but I am sorry if I caused you any emotional distress."

He had caused me a great deal of emotional distress, and I felt a flash of anger at the way Aki had manipulated my feelings. It had hurt to have been tossed away as easily as you'd kick a stone out of your path. "Why did you need me to react at all?"

"Something seemed off to me. Robbers don't normally place a sniper in the trees." Aki regarded me steadily. He was correct, and I ought to have thought of that myself.

The specter of a new puzzle to solve broke through my hurt and anger. "Was he a third party?" Although that would have been one hell of a coincidence – two separate entities independently attacking the same group of travelers.

"No - I questioned the man I took with me. The bandits were hired to be a diversion. The sniper was planning to kill one of them – and no, the bandit didn't know which one - and implicate Nobunaga." Aki paused to gulp down the rest of his tea. "You'll need to pass along this information - and keep an eye out for future attempts."

"Is that why you sent me here? To stop future attempts?" Could I pass along this information without letting Shingen know where it came from, or even that it had come to me? Now that I was aware that I was still, sort of, associated with Aki, then it put me in an awkward position with Shingen – who had just set me up to potentially be killed. It would be a good idea to avoid alerting him to the fact that I was a person who had access to information like this. I would like to continue to be not-dead.

"One of several reasons, yes. I have an urgent matter to take care of, and I will be away for several weeks." Aki swept the rest of the Shogi pieces into a pouch, and stood up, signaling that our conversation had ended. "Originally, I planned to have you stay with Ryoichi while I was gone, but with this new information, I reconsidered. Just, don't drop your guard."

Urgent? I was used to Aki disappearing, but never for several weeks. "Will you be alright?"

"Of course. I said urgent, not dangerous." He gave me a brief bow…and then, he was gone, again, without elaborating on what the rest of those "several" reasons were.