Chapter Seventeen: Shingen's POV – The Sand Trap

"Hold on, let me get the candle."

Did she actually think they were in danger of burning the place to the grou-

In the moment after the room went completely dark, instead of the anticipated return of her feminine warmth, there was the ominous sound of the door sliding open, then shut, followed by swift footsteps away…

She'd done it again.

It was only after the scramble to relight the candle that he discovered that not only had she run off, but this time, his clothes had gone with her. While he appreciated the symmetry of it – after all, last time, she had been the one who had ended up running naked into the night – he also regretted that his plans for the evening had been unceremoniously disrupted.

Not to mention he still didn't know her name.

On the upside, at least his friendship with the Innkeeper should ensure that clothing would be found for him, he had only to wait. Therefore, it could be worse.

The door slid open again. He glanced up with the hope that either she had changed her mind and returned voluntarily, or she had been caught and returned involuntarily… only to see Mitsuhide leaning against the wall, holding the bundle of Shingen's clothes in his arms.

It was worse.

Mitsuhide smirked at him. "Lose some things?"

After checking that his sword was close enough to grab should it be necessary to do so, Shingen asked. "Did she give those to you?" The little imp had said she didn't work for Mitsuhide, while in the same breath, proudly admitted she was a liar. Not that he could count on truth from Mitsuhide either.

"No. I witnessed where she threw them and took it upon myself to retrieve them." Mitsuhide tossed the clothes to him.

Ah, so she had only meant to delay him and not specifically taunt him. That ought to have made Shingen feel better, but oddly, it did not. Taunting would have signaled that she planned to continue their game. Delaying him hinted that her sole object had been to get away from him.

"Interesting how you happened to be right where it was possible to witness her exit." Shingen said. He picked up his kimono, and a cascade of sand fell to the tatami mat. "Dry garden?"

"Indeed. The brat did appear to aim in that direction." Mitsuhide yawned, a bit of theater that Shingen thought unnecessary. "And I was able to witness her departure because after being a captive audience to everything that lead up to it, it was a rather predictable ending to the show."

Translation, he'd been eavesdropping. Shingen chose not to make an issue of that, simply because if he and Mitsuhide were to enter a debate about methodologies, they'd be here all night. There were too many other pressing issues to discuss. "What are you really doing in Kasugayama?"

"Exactly what I told our, er, nameless friend. Confirming that the attack on our vassals had nothing to do with your Akazonae." Nameless? Did that mean that Mitsuhide didn't know her name either? Likely if Mitsuhide had known it, there would have been significantly more taunting.

As to the rest of the man's words, they were unworthy of consideration. "You ought to have known that without coming all this way." Shingen said. He began shaking sand out of his clothing – as much as humanly possible.

"One never knows what can be learned by making these little detours here and there." Mitsuhide said. "Someone seems fairly determined to stir things up between our clans. I thought it prudent to see if similar attacks were taking place here. Word got to me that someone attacked you last month."

Shingen froze, wondering once again what Mitsuhide's relationship was with the feisty spy who had twice left in the middle of fun and games. Obviously, she had to be working for someone, but he would be disappointed if that someone was Nobunaga's left-hand man. "Word got to you? Via that nameless friend? Is she one of your spies?"

"I'm not the one with a legion of female operatives." Mitsuhide, once again picking style over sincerity, examined his fingernails. Nor did that answer Shingen's question.

"That was not a denial," Shingen said as he got dressed again. Damn it, there was still sand in the kimono.

"I'll be clearer then. That one is definitely not one of mine." Mitsuhide looked like he was getting bored with the entire conversation.

Since that sounded like something that was as close to truth as Mitsuhide could get, Shingen elected to take it at face value. "Do you know where she came from them? Or where I can find her?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted asking them. If he was going to owe Mitsuhide a favor, he would prefer it be something more important than finding one mischievous spy.

Although it did feel important, somehow.

Having donned his sand encrusted clothing – and he wouldn't have put it past Mitsuhide to have swirled everything around for maximum discomfort, he followed the other man out to the corridor surrounding the courtyard garden.

Mitsuhide smirked at him. "Oh, I imagine she's hanging around somewhere." He had a shogi piece in his hand, and he kept tossing it up in the air and catching it. Possibly he thought he was being cryptic. Definitely, he was being an ass.

Again, he found himself unable to avoid asking more questions about that spy. "What do you know about her? Is she in a safe situation?" That bruise on her shoulder was alarmingly large.

"As I told you, I believed she was one of yours. And if that is the case, she's certainly not in a safe situation." Mitsuhide laughed. "I ought to make her an offer of employment merely to get her out from… under… you."

The insinuation ought not to have felt insulting, given that Shingen certainly had been trying to get her under him. Maybe it was the greater insult at the idea that Mitsuhide would have more success.

Unfortunately, Mitsuhide was still talking. "However, I find that I'm not that altruistic. If that one worked for me, I'd be tempted to murder her at least twice a day."

It was rare to have a moment where he was in complete agreement with Mitsuhide. He might also be tempted to murder the little imp twice day. The issue was that he would also likely be tempted to bed her twice a day. If not more often than that.

Shingen waited a moment longer, until it was clear that Mitsuhide had said all that he intended to about the clothes-napping spy, then decided it was time for a friendly warning. "Do I need to point out that you might find things more comfortable back in Azuchi?"

"I had planned to leave in the morning, but that was before I discovered all of this fascinating intrigue going on up here." Out came that smirk again. Shingen wondered how easy Mitsuhide would find it to smirk if he had three or four fewer teeth and a broken jaw.

Time for an unfriendly warning. "I wonder if you'd find it as intriguing in the Kasugayama dungeons."

Mitsuhide laughed again. "Don't worry. As potentially entertaining as it would be to stick around, I have other things to take care of. I'd ask you to give my regards to Mai, but I know exactly how well that would go over with your stab-happy ally."

There was a rumble of thunder in the distance – perhaps even the sky Gods knew what the outcome would be to that event.

An early morning visit from one of his kunoichi brought the confirmation that Mitsuhide and Kyubei had left Kasugayama.

"Did the woman go with them?" Shingen dragged on his clothes, while Sute restlessly prowled his room and helped herself to the sweet bun he'd been saving for breakfast.

Sute answered with her mouth still full of food. "She was still on the roof of the inn when I followed Mitsuhide and Kyubei out– should I have stayed and watched her?"

On the roo-…why that little devil…! He let out a short laugh. Of course, she had doubled back. Probably wanted to see how her sand trick had turned out. That also meant that the game was still on, a fact that cheered him up immensely. "No, it's fine, your target was Mitsuhide." He thanked her for the information, then turned down her offer to join him in bed.

"Too tired? You've never been that tired," Sute said, but there was no real disappointment in her tone. Probably the offer had been made from habit, which was reason enough to say no.

He made no other excuse. In truth, he was tired, but his mind was still with the woman who hadn't managed to take into his bed last night. Though he doubted Sute would have cared, it somehow seemed disrespectful to satisfy his needs with her while thinking of someone else. But had he been less tired, his answer might have been different.

Having received no answer, Sute opened a ceiling tile. "Well, I don't want to go back out into that storm yet… guess I'll drop in on Sasuke and see if he's up for a bit of fun."

Sasuke? Really?

Except, Sasuke wasn't even in the castle. Kenshin had sent him out a few days prior, and he wasn't due back until later today.

But Sute disappeared before he could tell her not to waste her time.

The rain pounded on the wall and window, and the room already felt damp and humid. He could feel it thick in his lungs – better to get moving. Sitting up in this sort of weather made it easier to breathe.

Some time later, when he was nearly finished with what had remained from yesterday's correspondence (put aside when he'd gotten word that his mystery spy had been seen going into Mitsuhide's room), the sound of and smell of breakfast got his attention.

Katsu stood in the doorway holding the breakfast tray, looking even more tired than Shingen felt. There was a look of determination on his face, but the young man's normal alert energy was muted. "Katsu? Was there another attack?"

"Oh, no, nothing like that. I needed to discuss some things with you…" He set the tray down on the writing desk, but then seemed unable to continue.

Was Katsu planning to leave Kasugayama? Shingen wasn't sure why that suspicion crossed his mind, nor why the thought was so disagreeable to him. Katsu had a right to go wherever he wanted, and perhaps someone else would find better use for his daredevil antics. Which would be… completely fine.

Before going on a tangent, he figured he'd better hear what Katsu had to say, instead of imagining the worst. He gestured to the cushion across from the desk. "Would you like some of this?" Far too much for him to eat, and the smell of the thick fish stew nearly put him off the idea of food altogether.

Katsu sat down, turned down the food, and Shingen realized he'd never seen him eat much beyond rice, vegetables, and fruit. All of which sounded a lot more appetizing than what was on his tray. "I forgot – you don't eat meat, do you?" Was it for religious reasons, or simply a matter of taste or habit?

"No, not if there are other alternatives."

Not much of an explanation. Shingen looked down at his own tray – he thought he could force down some of the rice. Katsu watched in patient silence. Right, he'd come in here for a reason. "What did you want to talk about?"

"This might sound like a non-apology, but it's not intended that way. From the time I was a small child, I was trained to do acrobatics. When I was up in the tree, it might have appeared dangerous from where you were standing, but I knew what I was doing. I also am aware that you didn't know that, so I'm sorry for worrying you."

That… was not what he had been expecting to hear. Under that garbled mess, there appeared to be a sincere apology, though he could tell that Katsu still believed he had been in the right. But if he could get past what was, all in all, a disagreement where it was possible neither of them had been right or wrong, then he could accept the apology in the spirit with which it was given.

But Katsu was still speaking. "I feel … I feel uncomfortable that I lost your trust. I can't promise that I'll never again take part in what might appear to be risky behavior, but if it's feasible, I'll consult you first."

Not exactly a promise never to climb a tree again, but perhaps Katsu would act with a bit more prudence and restraint in the future. Shingen acknowledged that his own situation may have made him overly quick to judge. "Alright, somewhere in that was an apology, and I respect that you made one." There was a part of him, even, that felt honored that Katsu had valued their friendship enough to apologize to him. "I'll apologize for doubting your skills." He took a bit of the stew, trying not to gag at the feeling of it sliding down his throat. "Were you raised in a circus troupe?"

Katsu got up, then flipped backward into a handstand, and, still upside down, turned around, and gave him one of those "I'm-doing-one-of-my-favorite-things-in-the-world" looks. "Something like that." He somehow managed to flip upright, but again had to reorient himself upon landing.

That answer was evasive, but the skill was obvious, so Shingen decided to let it go. Too much energy to stay angry, and he'd rather have Katsu's company than not. "Alright, daredevil, I'm convinced." Shingen imagined a whole family of Katsus, walking around on their hands and scrambling through trees, and wondered, if that was the case, maybe the young man was looking for his brother in the wrong places. "If you came from a family of performers, might it be possible that your brother is in a circus or a performing troupe somewhere?"

The denial was instant. "I can't imagine it. Toshiie always planned to study medicine. And… he's not very athletic."

"Hmmm." What if the brother wasn't at sea after all? If he was even half as resourceful as Katsu, he could have escaped whatever ship he'd been on and made his way back inland. His brother could even be working as a healer somewhere. He made a mental note to investigate that possibility.

The sound of a yawn caught his attention. Katsu had seated himself, and … he undeniably looked terrible. "Tired again? Didn't we discuss this a couple weeks ago?"

Katsu shook his head. "It wasn't intentional. I was out trying to find the origins of the arrow that the assassin shot at Mai last week, and I ran into a few obstacles. Then it started raining, and I paused to wait it out, but …" he gestured toward the window.

"If you wait for the rain to stop, you might be waiting for another month." The rivers were the real worry. He'd been researching ways to redistribute water to prevent flooding, but … like many things, time was getting away from him. "Hopefully, there won't be any flooding."

"Agreed." There was a bleak look on Katsu's face that Shingen had never seen before. Katsu had mentioned before that he'd lost his home in a storm – a flood, possibly. Shingen debated with himself whether to press for more details, torn between wanting to ease Katsu's mind and wanting to keep his distance.

Whatever it was, Katsu obviously didn't want to dwell on it, because he quickly moved back to the initial topic. "It appears that the arrow is not one that Oda's forces use currently, but a closer match to ones they were using a couple years ago." He pulled the arrow out from under his kimono and set it on the desk.

"Now I understand why you're so tired. I know you're fast, but you could not have possibly gone all the way to Azuchi and back." He was certain he'd seen Katsu yesterday afternoon, and even if he had changed horses on the road, the trip to and from Azuchi would have taken the better part of a week.

"No. I found a man who scavenges sites of battles and sieges and re-sells what he can." Katsu put his chin in his hand, looking like he was halfway to falling asleep. Hoping to wake him up a bit, Shingen tossed him the puzzle to work on.

"That was resourceful." Shingen made a mental note to get the name and direction of this scavenger, as such a man could be useful in the future.

Katsu had perked up a bit at the sight of the puzzle. "Er, I'm aware your friendship with Kenshin is long-standing." The diffident tone in his voice clued Shingen in that there was at least one more topic that Katsu wanted to discuss.

"Not so much as all that – I expect that once we take care of Oda, we'll go back to trying to kill each other, if… if there's time." If Kenshin could be prevailed to go against Mai's wishes and restart attacks. If he could retake Kai. If he was still alive. "But that's neither here nor there. What is it that you're awkwardly trying to bring up?" What had Kenshin done now?

Gaining more confidence, Katsu said, "You should tell him what's going on."

They had spent the last two months helping Kenshin through his fear that something else would happen to Mai. To then tell him that there might be a new threat to her could set things back. Too far back, and no one wanted that. Unlikely that Katsu was aware of these things though.

Before Shingen could explain the situation further, Katsu continued. "I think he can sense that people have been lying to him."

Unlikely. Kenshin always was and always had been someone who expected to be told the truth and presumed that everyone else was as straightforward as he. "They call him the God of War, but he's not truly a God, you know." He had eaten as much of this food as he was able and pushed the tray aside.

Katsu began working on that puzzle again, working as systemically as ever. "I think he can tell that Mai is lying to him about something and…" He hesitated and Shingen could see the attempt to choose his words carefully. "And, bad things could happen if she continues to act in such a way that increases his suspicions."

True, Mai was not much of a liar – every thought she had was plastered across her face in real time. As much as Shingen appreciated Mai's honest emotions, she was not someone he would want to have to depend upon in matters of secrecy. "That's… entirely possible. Although it's also possible that knowing her life is in danger will also bring about, to use your vague but ominous terminology… bad things."

He watched Katsu putting the puzzle pieces in organized piles, then brush his fingers over the mat as if something else had caught his attention. Sand. Shingen's mind diverted once again to last night's misadventure. If nothing else, he owed his mystery spy payback for the sand that had infiltrated everywhere, including under his toenails… and in much less comfortable areas of his body.

The smell of his uneaten breakfast was nauseating – the fresher air by the window beckoned, although the dampness wouldn't do much for his lungs.

Behind him, he heard Katsu clacking about with the puzzle pieces. "So basically, we need to find out who is doing this, before… bad things happen."

Yes, of course that was important, but it wasn't as if they were doing nothing at all. "Simply because I haven't informed Kenshin doesn't mean I haven't taken precautions. I've increased patrols around the castle, had them trim back those tree limbs-,"

"I noticed," Katsu muttered, looking momentarily like a toddler whose favorite toy had been taken away. Granted, keeping Katsu out of the trees hadn't been his objective, but Shingen had to admit it was an additional benefit.

"… and the guards at the gate question every new arrival." It might not be enough, but it better than nothing.

He could see the moment when Katsu flipped into tactical mode, and stood back to wait and hear what twisty avenue his thoughts would take him down. "What if he or she is already inside the castle? Do you know everyone here? For all you know, it could even be me."

"I did suspect you for a while," Shingen said. He would have been disappointed if Katsu had turned out to be a part of (or behind) the assassination attempts, but it wouldn't have stopped him from killing him if that had been the case. He would have made it quick though.

He pushed that thought away. Betrayal must be punished, of course, but the idea of Katsu as a traitor hurt. Things that seemed right and just in the abstract always were more painful at the personal level.

"Yeah, that powder trick clued me in on that." Katsu kept his head down and focused on the puzzle. Shingen had wondered why Katsu hadn't brought up the black powder test before, then realized there wouldn't have been anything to say. The fact that he returned, even after knowing what Shingen was capable of, was a message in itself. "Is that why you decided I wasn't responsible?"

Pushing his mind past the hurt that even a theoretical betrayal caused, Shingen gave Katsu a quick lesson in practical tactics. "One of the reasons, yes. Sasuke trusts you, which goes a long way in my book. So does Yoshimoto, which, well, he doesn't always have the greatest instincts, but it's not nothing. Furthermore, if you had hired the sniper in the woods as a way to gain my trust and get inside the castle, then you would have either made sure he escaped or you would have killed him immediately, instead of shooting him in the hand – when you proved your archery skills, it confirmed that you had nothing to do with the initial attack."

"I bow to your cleverness." Despite the dry words, Katsu did actually look impressed at that, and Shingen felt cheered by the spirit of the praise.

"That, and the attack on Mai could just as easily have killed you," he added. It was an automatic extension of the previous deductions, but once again, he felt that tightness in his chest at the thought of Katsu (or Yoshimoto, of course, Yoshimoto too) becoming the victim of an assassin's arrow.

"I'm not worth any more dead than alive, so if it had killed me, it likely would have been the result of poor aim or the wind." Katsu shrugged, apparently dismissing the thought as easily as that. "Well, people threaten to kill me a lot, but I think they're being facetious. I'm half convinced that the week I became the object cause of you losing your rights to dessert, that you at least considered a revenge slaying."

He might have at that, were it not for the fact that Yukimura had been so giddily entertained by Shingen's dessert-free week. Yukimura smiled so rarely these days, that Shingen was willing enough to become the object of the joke to make his vassal happy.

But, back to the topic at hand. "Along the lines of potential targets, if the intent of the attacks is to…" get into Kenshin's head and wake the sleeping dragon, "unsettle Kenshin, then I'd wager that the target of the attack in the woods was Sasuke."

With that 'great, a new idea to puzzle over' look on his face, Katsu was all attention. "Not arguing the point, but what would be the motivation of choosing Sasuke as a victim over you?"

"Aside from Mai, no one else is closer to Kenshin. He sees Sasuke as … maybe not as a brother, but certainly family. As much as Mai can influence Kenshin, it's Sasuke that can actively talk him into or out of things." Possibly because Sasuke had saved his life, but more likely because after doing so, he'd put his own life into Kenshin's hands, taking on all Kenshin's lessons and tasks with interest… much like Katsu did with Shingen's lessons. He took a deep breath and regretted it instantly when the wet air attacked his chest. He coughed, hoping to clear his lungs.

Katsu slotted more pieces into the puzzle – both the wooden one, and the theoretical one at hand. "Therefore, the next step might be to discuss all this with Sasuke, right?"

Sasuke was likely not back yet, and if he were back, he potentially would be with Sute, since she hadn't returned after expressing the intention of 'dropping in' on Sasuke. Although Sute might have simply moved on or dropped in on someone else. In any case, what Katsu clearly needed to do was go back to sleep, because otherwise he was likely to simply fall over in the middle of Kasugayama and drown in the street. "It… might be a good idea. I believe he's due back later today. But first…Go back to bed. I feel exhausted just looking at you."

It was obvious he was readying an argument. Shingen was on the point of telling Katsu to go take a nap in his futon – that way at least he could be certain that Katsu actually was sleeping, and not off on whatever investigative tangent took hold of his magpie brain. But… that idea felt oddly too intimate (though Yukimura had sacked out in Shingen's tent to take a post-battle nap plenty of times without it being an issue), and he thought better of it.

Instead of protesting verbally, Katsu jerked his chin toward the stack of messages that needed delivering.

"Yes, I know. These will keep. I need to edit in some newer information anyway." His own morning stretched out infinitely longer. Shingen almost wished he could order himself to go back to sleep too.