In the haze of smoke, a tattered Union Jack fluttered in his field of vision, moved by a breeze that couldn't sweep away the battlefield stink of sulfur and sweat, of blood and rotting bodies. He could hear nothing but the shouting of his fellow soldiers, the whistle of bullets, 'watch out, Major', felt nothing except a yank on his arm, before a cannonball landed with a boom, where he had been standing a moment earlier. The resulting explosion sent them all flying backwards, and he'd landed face first in the fetid mud. Under the hot sun, it all blurred together, except for the smell. That smell would follow him to his grave.
"Hideyoshi." There was firm hand gently shaking his shoulder. The Duke's voice. "Wake up."
The battlefield retreated to the edge of his consciousness, replaced by the sensation of polished mahogany and a sharp letter opener under his cheek… and a cramp in his neck likely to linger for hours. He'd fallen asleep at his desk again. Hideyoshi shot upright, as realization beget embarrassment, but Nobunaga's gaze revealed neither censure nor sympathy. He rubbed his cheek, feeling the indentation of the ornate silver handle of the letter opener. "My apologies, Your Grace."
"I'm less concerned about your sleeping at your desk and more about-" Nobunaga slanted a glance at the mantle clock – it was long past midnight, "the fact that you didn't take yourself off to bed hours ago. Since I know I am not overworking you, I'm left to wonder about your competence." If he thought he was going to be able to escape with just this gentle chiding, Hideyoshi was soon proven wrong, for instead of saying his piece and leaving, Nobunaga poured himself a glass of brandy, settled himself into a wingback chair, and gave every indication that he intended to stay and chat. Still in his crisp tailcoat and cravat, he was the very picture of a gentleman in repose.
"I was just putting the finishing touches on your speech for Parliament." It was the truth, but not the reason. Unlike Hamlet, he had little to fear 'what dreams may come' of death's nightmares. The ones while he was living were bad enough.
"If you're going to have nightmares in any case, why not have them in the comfort of your own room?" Nobunaga swirled the brandy, while Hideyoshi wondered if he'd spoken his thoughts out loud. Or had Nobunaga picked up Mitsuhide's irritating habit of reading faces? The third possibility, that Nobunaga also suffered from them was discounted entirely. Nobunaga was too strong for that.
When the silence stretched on too long, past awkward, into, simply silence, Nobunaga gestured to the pages strewn across the desk that had so recently been Hideyoshi's pillow. "As it's the cause of tonight's late hours, might as well let me see it."
Hideyoshi handed over the speech, and Nobunaga settled in to read it, with not even a hm or a mrrm to let reveal his thoughts on it. Instead, Hideyoshi was left in a near silence broken by a ticking clock, and the distraction of a worn spot in the Aubusson rug that would likely need to be sent out for repair. As Nobunaga was still reading over the speech, Hideyoshi made a note to alert the housekeeper.
"The conditions of the returning soldier? That's what you believe I should be championing?" Nobunaga sharpened a pen and marked out a few lines. "I'm not such a firebrand – tame your, or rather, my metaphors, and it will do." He tossed the papers back onto the desk. "You should run for parliament yourself."
"The House of Commons? I couldn't." Even though even a couple years ago – before Napoleon had stomped his boots all over Europe, it had been his very wish. He'd had ideas… plans. But Nobunaga was far better placed to see those plans through.
"You could – if you stopped feeling guilty for-"
SCREEEEE
Though it was rude, Hideyoshi pushed his chair back with such force that it probably scratched the floor (possibly that was how the rug had become worn to begin with) and jumped to his feet. "You're correct. I should be in bed. I'll likely be fresher in the morning."
But Nobunaga, having gotten his teeth into the topic, wasn't going to let it go so easily. "Mitsunari made his own choices. I'm certain he doesn't blame you for-"
Twice in the same conversation, twice more than he ever had in the past, Hideyoshi interrupted Nobunaga. "If I hadn't paid for his colors, convinced him he was needed, he'd safely be in some quiet vicarage."
Nobunaga held his glass up to the light as if looking into a crystal ball. "While the image of a string of apple cheeked country maids haunting the doors of a church to get a glimpse of their angelic curate is amusing, you know as well as I that he would have made a terrible preacher. He'd never remember which day was Sunday and then spend Tuesday mornings looking out at row upon row of empty pews and wondering if his whole congregation had fled town."
Hideyoshi's brain supplied the sarcastic response 'at least he'd be able to see that' though again he kept the words unspoken, and this time, if Nobunaga read the words on his face, he didn't remark on it. "Good night, Your Grace."
"Do try to sleep, monkey." The words floated after his retreating back.
Though he ought to have heeded that advice, Hideyoshi bypassed his rooms and as had become habit, he continued to the end of the corridor. Only to ensure himself that at this hour, Mitsunari had everything he needed.
That first week after their return from the continent, Mitsunari had awakened every night. Confused in the darkness, he had nearly set the house on first as he tried to light an already burning lamp. As time went on, Mitsunari had become accustomed to his new circumstances, and if he woke in the darkness, he'd never mentioned it.
Did Mitsunari ever dream now? Were the dreams bright and colorful? Was waking up the nightmare for him that sleeping was for Hideyoshi? Again, there hadn't been a word of complaint or self-pity from the younger man. But Mitsunari never had been the sort to complain.
Carefully, Hideyoshi eased open the door to Mitsunari's room. A footman had left the candles in the wall sconce burning – perhaps out of laziness, perhaps out of misguided comfort – and the room was bathed in an amber glow. Mitsunari slept, apparently peacefully, a fresh bandage wrapped around his sightless eyes. The young man was on his side, and he clutched something in his arms… a pillow?
No.
It was a book.
Unable to watch any more, Hideyoshi retreated to his rooms. The nightmare, watch out, Major! was all but certain to make another visit.
The following morning, after an early cross-country ride that was not fast enough to erase the lingering miasma of the battlefield from his consciousness, Hideyoshi fed his panting horse an apple while one of the grooms removed its saddle. The man didn't need any help, but Hideyoshi felt… reluctant to return to the house. Strange. He'd never in the past shirked his responsibilities but since their return … his days felt like they were spent underwater, and even taking more than a few steps was too much effort.
To distract himself, he ran his fingers over his horse's nose, and it whuffled in appreciation. The warmth of its body pulsed under his hand, almost as if the animal was trying to wake him up.
Then a piece of straw hit him on the nose.
And another.
Something was scuffling above him.
He eyed the hayloft, already primed to give a lecture if he discovered one of the stableboys dallying with a dairy maid. The groom followed his gaze. "Kittens." At Hideyoshi's unspoken 'go on,' the groom continued. "Molly's latest litter. Over the last week, they've been venturing all over the stables." He nodded at the corner of an empty stall, where a grey and white tabby was snoozing, likely taking a well-earned break from her brood.
Kittens.
Without questioning the impulse, Hideyoshi climbed the ladder until he was halfway into the loft. Five kittens tumbled over each other, chasing dust motes and bouncing into and off of the wall. On tiny all-grey furball pranced over to him and batted his nose. "Are they weaned?" He extended his hand to the little creature and was rewarded when it began to gnaw on his fingers.
"Should be. Why? Do you want to keep one?" The groom glanced at the mama cat and shrugged. "I'm sure Molly's ready to be rid of them."
"Yes." The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he planned to do with the kitten.
Later that morning, with a freshly brushed (courtesy of a cooing in-between maid) kitten squirming in his arms, Hideyoshi found Mitsunari on his customary bench in the back garden. Prior to his injury, Mitsunari could – and often had – spend hours in his room or the library reading, but everyone had agreed (well Ieyasu had prescribed, and no one had dared argue with the prickly doctor) that fresh air and the sun's warmth would be good for him, so now a footman would lead him outside every morning.
Mitsunari had his bandaged eyes tilted toward the sun as Hideyoshi approached. In his lap, the same book that he had slept with the night before. At the sound of Hideyoshi's footsteps, Mitsunari turned toward him and smiled. "Good morning, Major."
"I sold out weeks ago – you don't have to use my rank any longer." He'd never had to, not in private anyway, but Mitsunari had always said it was easier to use the title all the time, than to try to remember when he did and didn't need to. "You can call me by my given name."
"It feels… impolite. I will do my best though." Mitsunari's fingers soothed the covers of the book, each brisk movement feeling like an accusation to Hideyoshi.
He wanted to ask Mitsunari why he'd brought it along when he couldn't see it, but at the same time Hideyoshi didn't want to bring up the topic. Not when they were all waiting, trapped between hope and resignation, to discover what the verdict would be when Ieyasu returned to remove the bandage.
Having decided she'd had enough of Hideyoshi, the kitten let out an annoyed squeak. Then… she bit him. Again.
"Was that a cat?" (Nothing wrong with his friend's hearing).
"Yes. The stables were overrun with them, so I thought…" I thought you might like her. I thought a kitten might be an adequate replacement for your eyes, for the books you can no longer read. It… was a ridiculous thought. As if one cat could compensate for the loss of vision. Too late to backtrack now.
Besides, Mitsunari had already opened his arms, so Hideyoshi carefully placed the fluffball in his lap. With gentle hands, Mitsunari stroked her soft fur and almost immediately, the kitten let out a rumbling purr, almost too loud for her tiny body. Well. Females. Mitsunari had always affected them like that. "Good morning, kitty… it seems friendly."
Hideyoshi had a couple scratches to prove otherwise, but the kitten seemed content in Mitsunari's company. "She. The tweeny checked."
"She. Were you going to give her to Mai?" He felt around behind him and broke off a spring of lavender from the clump edging the path. He dangled the sprig over the kitten, who batted at it with her tiny paws.
That would be the natural assumption, but Hideyoshi doubted Nobunaga's ward would have time for the cat now that she was preparing for her debut season. Well, Hideyoshi was certain Mai would give it her best effort, but it wouldn't be fair to the kitten to get it used to Azuchi Castle, then cart her all the way to the London residence for a few months. "No. Actually, I thought…" Again, the explanation stuck in his throat. "Do you want her?"
Mitsunari was quiet for a long time, appearing to think it over. But he smiled down at the kitten as she rubbed her face across his hands. Encouraged, Hideyoshi added, "She seems to like you. Definitely more than she likes me."
"I like her too." The words were almost too soft to be heard. His hands easily found the underside of the kitten's chin, and he tickled her lightly.
"Good then. I'll have the housekeeper set some things up in your room." Along the far side of the wall, where Mitsunari would be least likely to trip over them. The little in-between maid would likely be happy to feed her. Thrilled even, at the opportunity to get away from chamber pots and to spend time with Mitsunari and the kitten.
With a wide yawn, the kitten stretched, knocking the book out of Mitsunari's lap. Hideyoshi caught it automatically. "Art of War."
Mitsunari nodded. "I've read it before, so I can see the pages and words in my head." No stumbling over the word 'see' like any of the visitors to Azuchi had. "But I like to keep the rhythm of turning the pages when I reread it."
Interesting. Hideyoshi had always known that Mitsunari had an excellent memory, but he hadn't… "I didn't know it worked that way."
"I was eight when I discovered that it didn't work that way for everyone." Out of either politeness, or habit, Mitsunari turned his face toward Hideyoshi.
Now trapped in a conversation that could turn awkward at any moment, Hideyoshi settled on the bench, placing the book down between himself and Mitsunari. "Is it the same when someone reads to you? Can you still re-read it later?"
"The words appear inside my head… when I want to go over them again, they… unspool. Like thread." Mitsunari made a rolling gesture with his hand, presumably to demonstrate the unspooling. "I hear the reader's voice too."
"I'm certain that Nobunaga would approve finding a reader for you." Or two. Three even. People with soothing, interesting voices. Hideyoshi vowed to listen to every single candidate, to find ones with melodious voices, readers who sounded pleasant, even if they'd been reading for hours. And of course, only ones who would be able to read the most advanced texts without stumbling over unfamiliar words or concepts.
"That's kind of you… and his grace, of course. But it's not necessary." Mitsunari had found the spot on the kitten's body that sent it instantly into kitty bliss. "Ieyasu seems certain this," he touched the bandage that doubled as a blindfold, "is only temporary."
What Ieyasu had said was that it could be temporary, which, if Mitsunari could see words in his head, he knew full well. But if he was choosing to keep hope until the final diagnosis… was that better? Was it better to have several weeks of hope before disappointment? Or better to be prepared for a final blow? If it had been himself, Hideyoshi would like to be prepared. "I'm sorry."
"Whatever for?" Mitsunari ruffled the kitten's fur. "For sticking me with this cat? She's a nice cat."
"For… this wouldn't have happened to you, if it were not for me." The apology he ought to have given weeks ago came tumbling out. "I feel responsible."
Now Mitsunari did frown. "I don't understand how you can think that. You didn't fire that cannon. The French did. And I don't blame them either." He fumbled around and found the book again… tapped lightly on the cover. "Art."
Watch out, Major!
"You saved my life… and your reward was this injury." Maybe Mitsunari saw words in his head. What Hideyoshi saw, unspooling like a thread, was the moment Mitsunari pushed him aside as a cannon ball exploded in front of them… then among the smoke and the sulfur, the vision of his subaltern, his friend, lying on the ground, knocked flat by the resultant explosion. It had taken nearly a day for Mitsunari to regain consciousness, to open his eyes… and ask why it was pitch black in the tent. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I saved your life. My reward was your life." Mitsunari's frown was still evident. "This temporary loss of vision is a small price to pay. My duty as a soldier was to protect my commanding officer. You treat me as a younger brother… but please, give me the credit of making my own choices knowing the potential cost."
Of course, Mitsunari would say that. He had always been a creature of logic. "You would not have been in Belgium, were it not for me."
Mitsunari shook his head. "I would have found a way – taken the king's shilling and joined the infantry. My father considered me bound for the church, but … the thought of giving a sermon? I would rather face a hundred French soldiers every day for the rest of my life."
Nobunaga had said something similar… that Mitsunari didn't blame him, had never considered blaming him. To push the issue would be an insult. Still, Hideyoshi couldn't look at Mitsunari without a rush of an emotion that he could only identify as guilt, and its weight grew heavier every day.
"In any case," Mitsunari continued. "You would have done the same if it had been Nobunaga."
Yes. But, that was different. Nobunaga had goals, plans… someday… possibly soon he could even become Prime Minister. Hideyoshi was simply his steward. He had no goals other than to ensure that Nobunaga achieved his.
Seeming to think he had closed the conversation, Mitsunari indicated the kitten. "Her name ought to be Kitty." With his lips quirked into a half smile, the only indication of those rare times when he told a joke, Mitsunari asked, "Does she look like a kitty to you?"
"I suppose so." There was probably a joke to be batted back to him, but Hideyoshi couldn't think of one.
"Kitty." Experimentally, Mitsunari addressed her, and she let out a little chirrup as if that settled the matter. "In any case, we can ask Ieyasu's opinion – he's good at naming things."
Not that Hideyoshi had noticed. "By the time he gets here, Kitty will be too attached to her name to alter it."
Mitsunari tilted his head in the direction of the house. "He's here now. Masamune too."
About to correct him – Ieyasu wasn't due to arrive until next week, and Masamune was up at his estate in Scotland – but Mitsunari was right. Hideyoshi could now hear their voices, good naturedly arguing (well, good natured on Masamune's part anyway) as a footman led them into the back garden. The footman noted that His Grace had been told of the visitors' arrival and would join them momentarily.
"Well, Lad," Masamune said, as he greeted Mitsunari with a friendly slap on his back. "Admit it. You were so jealous of the allure of the eye patch that you had to go and double it."
Bristling, Hideyoshi prepared to defend Mitsunari, but the 'lad' laughed at Masamune's joke. So, instead, he turned his attention Ieyasu. "You made good time. We weren't expecting you for a few more days."
"Masamune came down to consult with his man of business about something, and he offered me a place in his curricle." He sent a glare at their Scottish friend. "Which, I will never take him up on again. He drives like a madman."
Hm. Ieyasu's hair was standing on end more than usual.
Masamune made a dismissive sound. "What's the use of having fast horses if you don't let them have their heads on a decent highway?"
"Thank you, Ieyasu. I'm glad you wanted to see me sooner." Though Ieyasu rolled his eyes at Mitsunari's interpretation, he didn't correct him, Hideyoshi noted.
By this time, Nobunaga had made his way out to the garden as well, and he was soon followed by Mai, who was greeted enthusiastically by Masamune and less so by Ieyasu. Predictably, she cooed over the kitten, then settled herself next to Mitsunari while the servants carted out some light refreshments.
It seemed like everyone wanted to be around when Ieyasu removed the bandages. Even the servants were lurking at the edges of the garden. Mitsunari was a favorite with all of them.
"We're almost all together again," Mai said, sounding satisfied at that prospect.
"I could ask Wellington to recall Mitsuhide and Keiji from whatever missions he's got them carrying out on the continent." Nobunaga said it so casually, as if it was as easy as snapping his fingers to ask the commander of the British army for a favor. For Nobunaga… it probably was.
"That's … really not necessary," Hideyoshi assured him. Masamune was more than enough to cause a disturbance in the household without adding Mitsuhide and Keiji to the mix.
Lightly touching the bandage, Mitsunari asked the question that no one else had the courage to. "It is time now? To remove this?"
"Inside." Ieyasu waved his hand in the direction of the sun. "It's too bright out here."
There seemed to be a general inclination to move en mass into the house, but Hideyoshi shook himself out of his numbed state. "Mitsunari… do you want everyone around you?"
"Just you, Major." He handed the cat off to Mai. "And Ieyasu, of course."
Moment of truth then. Hideyoshi realized he felt more nervous than Mitsunari appeared to be. Then again, Mitsunari was confident that when the bandages were removed, he'd be able to see again.
Rather than use the footman, Hideyoshi took over the job of leading Mitsunari back into the house, conscious of everything on the path that might trip his friend up. Behind them, he could hear Masamune teasing Mai about something pertaining to her debut, likely just nonsense to distract them while they waited.
He considered taking Mitsunari into the library – it had been his favorite room. But if the blindness turned out to not be temporary, would the smell of books and paper be too much of a reminder of the loss? Upon reflection, the study appeared the better choice, as its position on the west side of the castle meant it was naturally darker in there anyway. He settled Mitsunari in the same wingback chair that Nobunaga had occupied the night before.
Ieyasu puttered around, dimming the lights further, before crouching in front of Mitsunari. Hideyoshi leaned against the doorway, half in and out of the room. He felt almost as if he were poised for flight – if the news were bad he knew there would be a part of him that would want to start running, and keep running… while another part would make it impossible to move at all. It was all a sum of that invisible wall of water that had been surrounding him since their return from Belgium.
With a pair of scissors, Ieyasu neatly snipped through the bandage. The slight burns on Mitsunari's face had long since healed, but Ieyasu had always said the burns weren't the issue, it had been the concussion from the explosion that had caused his blindness. "Open your eyes slowly… if things are blurry, it's to be expected."
"Wait." Mitsunari's hand came up to keep the bandage in place. "Major… Hideyoshi… sir. What you said to me earlier… I can't forgive you because I have no right to that. There's no reason to. But – please, forgive yourself." He didn't wait for Hideyoshi to respond – and perhaps there could be no response to that anyway. Mitsunari couldn't force Hideyoshi to forgive himself any more than Hideyoshi could force Mitsunari to blame him.
Maybe that had been his point.
From where he was standing in the door, Hideyoshi couldn't see the expression on either one of their faces when the bandage finally fell away, and the silence from Mitsunari wasn't helping things either. That clock on the mantle kept ticking into the void, as Ieyasu slowly moved his finger back and forth in front of Mitsunari's eyes, almost in cadence with the clock.
He wouldn't be doing that he if thought Mitsunari hadn't been healed, right? Finally, Ieyasu put his hand down and grunted in satisfaction. "You'll need to go to an ocularist for a stronger pair of glasses…"
Whatever he said after that was lost in the rush of relief that Hideyoshi felt. Mitsunari turned his head looking for… him, apparently, as the young man paused… then smiled at him.
I saved your life, that smile seemed to say, now… make something of it.
…Hideyoshi supposed that he would.
