Mitsuhide did indeed let me grab my fur cloak (ok, my borrowed Imagawa cloak) and went so far to make sure that my feet were well covered. Then, he urged me outside, into the garden, where it was once again snowing and the sun had already set. In the glow of the lanterns, I could see that the snowflakes collected on top of his head, turning that salt and pepper wig into a semblance of his normally silver hair.

We came to a halt just past the ice covered koi pond. I didn't check whether or not the fish were still in there somewhere. I didn't want to see if they had frozen to death. Schrodinger's fish. "I was going to send you a message."

"Were you indeed? Where would you have sent it from? Here? Or would you have waited until you settled in Kasugayama with the Imagawa?" Before I could respond to that odd line of questioning, Mitsuhide pulled us into the shadow of the wall, rendering us less visible from above.

Kasugayama? What was he talking about? Not willing to spend the mental energy trying to read his expression, I shrugged and continued my original explanation. "From here. I planned to flag down that spy who followed us from Sakai. To let you know what Yoshiaki was doing… that Kennyo is still alive. But I guess since you've been here all week, then you're already aware. And if Nobunaga is not aware, he will be soon…?"

He acknowledged that with a brief nod. "I'm also aware that it's an open secret that Yoshimoto has taken his page as a lover. His vassals are –"

"Idiots." And causing Yoshimoto more trouble than he could handle.

"That is not the point. I've witnessed your relationship for myself. Watching as he takes your hands and touches your face." Mitsuhide brushed his hand over my face, much the same way Yoshimoto was wont to do. Unlike Yoshimoto's touch, Mitsuhide's burned, even though, as always, his fingers were cool.

Unable to stand that internal heat, I stepped back. "That's just Yoshimoto… he's a touchy-feely person. It means nothing. But even if it meant something, that's no longer your business." You let me go.

He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, when he finally spoke, it was a return to that teasing tone. "You are correct, Brat. No business of mine, save for my ego. It was simply meant as a warning. The ex-shogun is a vengeful man. One full of petty jealousies and complex plots."

"Yoshiaki has no idea that I even exist." I was sure of that. "Servants are simply part of the scenery to him."

"As I was saying before you interrupted-." Mitsuhide put his finger on my lips to ensure no additional interruption. "Imagawa's vassals haven't ceased complaining about how their lord is obsessed with his new page. How he fondles you in public, and holes up in his room with you for hours." He shot another glance up toward the castle walls and pulled me further into the gloom. I suddenly realized that the person who had been watching me for the past few days was Mitsuhide himself. "If Yoshiaki hasn't already heard of this, he will soon."

"Why would Yoshiaki care?" And then the recollection of that first day here returned. Of that possessive, slighted tone in the ex-shogun's voice when he spoke to Yoshimoto. "Oh. He's the one with the obsession."

"Indeed. He is the one with the obsession." Mitsuhide took a step back, as if he were evaluating the nature of the word obsession. "I find it somewhat… ironic… that in my attempt to get you out of the line of fire – for Yoshiaki would also be happy if a woman important to … to the Oda were to fall into his hand – you jumped right back into it."

There was a lot to that statement, and I wished I had the time to parse it out, to discover what those odd pauses in Mitsuhide's speech meant, but as it was, all I could say was, "I'm not important to the Oda."

He merely looked at me. His face was shadowed in the dark, but for a moment, he half turned and his eyes gleamed in the lantern light.

Am I important to him?

Did he truly push me away to keep me safe?

There were a hundred questions I could have asked at that moment.

I said nothing.

It was not the time.

It was certainly not the place.

He reached out, took both my hands in his, carried them to his lips, and kissed my knuckles. The gesture was oddly reminiscent of Yoshimoto's and I wondered if he was doing so to place a claim of possession on them… to erase any memory I might have had of Yoshimoto's touch.

My silence was enough of a response. He pulled me closer, pressing me into the wall, and kissed my forehead – almost a benediction. That gesture of peace became one of passion, as he melted into my side, nipping at my neck, biting my ear –

I groaned… I would always be weak to that… to him, my need for his touch rushing through my veins. Until he spoke. "Goro – my spy – is waiting on the other side of the wall. Leave. Leave now. I will explain it to Yoshimoto."

Stung by reality, I yanked myself out of his embrace. Had all that been just to distract me? Even now was he still trying to force me to his bidding? Was this another feint, another character, another act? I imagined that my very existence here, in proximity to Motonari, who knew of the Kaya identity, was interfering with his own mission for Nobunaga. The mission that brought him here to begin with.

Of course… it had never been about me.

"No." I scooted further away. "Iekane knows where Aki is. I'm sure of it. Don't worry. I will keep far away from your investigation. You won't even know I'm here."

"You're impossible to ignore. I couldn'-"

"Just. Don't."

Before he could grab me again, I hurried out of the garden. He wouldn't be able to follow me without giving himself – or me – away. I didn't look back this time either, and stopped only to steal the bucket from beside the well. The well water was already frozen – no one would miss it. I filled the bucket with snow, knowing that if anyone questioned me on my way back inside, I would have a built in excuse for my absence.

Then I casually walked back into the castle as if I had every reason to be there. I even nodded at one guard at the main door. He returned my nod, then returned to his business.

Good. I hurried up the stairs toward Yoshimoto's quarters but, just a few meters away from being home free, I nearly barreled right into Motonari. Shit. I bowed low, keeping my face turned away from his. "My apologies Lord Motonari."

He grunted in response, and hurried past… then he stopped. I sensed him whirling back toward me. "How did you know my name?"

My face stayed averted. I was good servant, not allowed to gaze at one of a higher caste. "Lord Imagawa requires I be able to identify all the daimyos and warlords and not offer any insult or impropriety."

"Humph." After another excruciating pause, he continued on his way.

Had he recognized me? I… couldn't be certain that he hadn't.

Without taking time to sigh in relief, I hurried into Yoshimoto's room, where Yoshimoto was kneeling on his futon, his eyes closed.

As soon as I entered, he opened his eyes and looked at me. "Katsu, that seemed longer than it ought to have taken to-"

"Get you your water? My apologies Lord Yoshimoto." I handed him the bucket full of rapidly melting snow. "Your drink."

Yoshimoto blinked. "Snow?" He kept his voice low.

"You did say you wanted to taste the pristine moonlight touched flakes." I winked at him. "This is the coldest freshest water in the area."

A slight smile touched his lips. "That does... sound like something I would say." He drank from the bucket. "You are frighteningly good at that." He dropped his voice lower, below the threshold of what someone listening in the next room or the corridor would be able to hear. "And your search?"

"Inconclusive." Then, in order to give him some better news, I added. "The correspondence we previously discussed is on its way to its intended target." At least Mitsuhide had hinted as such. I ought to tell Yoshimoto about Mitsuhide being here. "Well, the second target. As it turns out-"

Yoshimoto had stopped listening. "I'll be happier when we can be on our way, too." Our way? Was that for any spies?Or was Yoshimoto assuming that we would continue travelling together? I couldn't think that far in advance. Perhaps anticipating my thoughts Yoshimoto asked, "If it turns out your father is dead, what will you do next?"

Though I didn't want to imagine that prospect it was a fair question. "Return to his manor and try to salvage his... interests."

"If you want or need another option, you are welcome to return to Kasugayama with me." He smiled at me, but with the resignation of someone who didn't have any expectation of success.

"There you go again, inviting me to be a guest in someone else's home." The home of a person whose disdain for women was pretty common knowledge.

"As long as you can fight, Kenshin won't care." He took a sip from the container of now melted snow, "It is really good water."

And in about 450 years people will have to pay one hundred and fifty yen for a bottle of something this fresh.

For a long moment, he was quiet, thinking those inscrutable Yoshimoto thoughts. Finally, he sighed. "Katsuko, you must know that-"

That was as far as he got before the sound of shouting and running feet reached our ears. Before I could do more than grab my sword, the door to the room slid open and four of the Kanamori vassals rushed in. Their weapons were out, so I presumed they aren't joining us for the fresh mountain water.

Yoshimoto was already on his feet. "What is the meaning of this insult?"

"We are taking him into custody." That was apparent. They had me surrounded. "Lord Motonari's orders."

Dammit. I guess he had recognized me after all.

"Unacceptable. Katsu is a valued member of my household." Yoshimoto threw on his clothing faster than I thought he could move. "I refuse to part with him."

"You'll have to discuss that with Lord Iekane." Without another word, they confiscated my sword and "escorted" me through the corridor, with Yoshimoto protesting at their heels every step of the way. The darkened stairwells and hallways were no less forbidding in reverse as we were marched out of the castle altogether.

Outside.

Outside is bad. It means they think there will be blood and they don't want to clean it off a tatami mat. (Actually you can't really get blood out of a tatami mat). At least I hadn't had time to take my cloak off, but Yoshimoto had to be freezing.

The vassals rushed me through the gardens, and to a stairway that led to the top of the castle wall.

Iekane and Motonari were waiting for us there, along with more of the Kanamori guards… including, I noticed, Mitsuhide. His disguise was still complete and he appeared to be regarding the scene dispassionately.

So far, Motonari hadn't realized he was here, but if he did, especially when we were this badly outnumbered, it would be the end of both our missions.

Making sure not to look at him, not even look near him, I tried to mentally broadcast an apology to him. This… was probably exactly what he had been afraid would happen.

Before I could begin to formulate a way out of this, Yoshimoto addressed Iekane, "Master Iekane, what is the meaning of this insult?"

"This doesn't concern you, Lord Imagawa," Iekane said in that ingratiating tone that … really didn't go along with the role he was playing as the acting daimyo of Genba. Then again, Yoshimoto was an Imagawa, and Yoshiaki revered him, so maybe that tone was real. "Motonari has a problem with a member of your household."

"I don't see how. My page has devoted his attention to me since the moment we arrived. Any insult would have come about because he was merely doing my bidding." In other words Yoshimoto was insinuating his own servants were more important than Motonari - which is not how I would have chosen to play this, but now it seems we were committed.

Motonari stepped forward and looked me over from head to foot. "Lord Imagawa, yer page is a spy who works for Mitsuhide."

With, people, with. And not any longer.

Yoshimoto whipped out his fan and semi-concealed a theatrically fake yawn. "Of course she's a spy. But she works for my cousin, not Mitsuhide."

Takeda Shingen? Wait. Yoshimoto if you're going to change the script, it would be nice if you handed me the updated sides first.

Iekane started to speak, but Motonari got there first. "Shut up."

Oooh. Someone doesn't like Iekane. I... think I can work with that.

He turned back to me. "Yer one of the Mitsumono? Why'd ya help Mitsuhide?"

Um… I did a rapid revision to Kaya's backstory. I didn't dare look at Mitsuhide. Did he believe I was a Takeda spy? Maybe… that would be for the best. It would be the easiest and fastest way for him to wash his hands of me and continue on his mission.

"The best way to gain his trust was to help him." Ok, think think, what else? "And of course once he pulled us off your ship, I figured the only way I was going to get back to Kasaguyama was to work with him."

"By burning down my camp." Motonari's words came out as a growl, but there was a different kind of light in his eyes.

"Next time tell your men not to store, the gunpowder so close to open flame." Hoping that I had judged his character correctly, I added a purposeful careless shrug. "Hell of a fire though."

He looked startled for a moment, then his laughter rang out across the dark night. "Hell of a fire."

Behind me, Yoshimoto shifted uneasily. Yeah so I had flipped the script too... but we were going to need Motonari to defuse this Yoshiaki mess, and the only way that was going to happen would be if we eliminated Iekane's influence. One way or another.

The Kanamori guards seemed not to know what to do with Motonari's sudden outburst. Once again Iekane stepped forward, but no, I couldn't let him take control this narrative. His, for want of a better word, superpower, was the long con. It had to be for him to have been able to fool Aki for so long. I gestured to Iekane. "Lord Iekane knows this, because he and I were both originally trained by the same spymaster." I glanced over my shoulder at the Kanamori guard who was still poking me with a sword. "Just a suggestion, but you might want to get a food taster in for Mozumi's meals and drink."

I wasn't going to outright accuse Iekane of anything, especially since I hadn't found any evidence that he was responsible for Mozumi's condition, but all I needed was for them to hesitate before acting.

Iekane put his hand to his heart. "Are you accusing me of harming my dear father? The man took me in, saved my life. I'm devoted to his health."

"Yes, of course you must be." Finally Yoshimoto picked up on the good cop bad cop routine. We really should have rehearsed this. "A poor orphan is always grateful to the rich man, especially if he has no other living offspring."

The Kanamori guard became less poky with the sword in my back. So that's one thin-

"Heh. This is all very interesting." Motonari's tone said it was the complete opposite of interesting. "I don't care if Iekane is offing his Pap, it all ends up the same in the end. Imagawa ya in for destroying Nobunaga and getting this party started or not?"

Crap. Iekane was my goal, but if I could throw a bit of help toward Mitsuhide's mission, it would be a good thing too.

"The desire of my vassals is clear." Yoshimoto snapped his fan shut. The metallic clang was like the locking of a cell door. "That said, I do not agree that Sakai is a worthwhile target."

Ok, good, he'd given me an opening. "Iekane when you caused the cart accident, was your target me... or was it Hiko?"

"Accident?" Iekane's laugh was on the disbelieving side of sarcastic. "Kaya, you've always been clumsy. And little boys, well, they can get into so much mischief."

And… that was an unforced error to Iekane.

"Lord Motonari." I turned and directly addressed the pirate. "Has Iekane ever met Hiko?"

He frowned, either at the non-sequitur, or because he might have figured out where I was going. "No. He ain't been to Sakai. Do you have a point, spy? Or are ya wasting time waiting for reinforcements?"

Reinforcements… well, that would have been a good idea. Too bad none of us thought of that.

"How does Iekane know Hiko is a little boy?" Before Iekane could formulate a bluff, I kept going. "Hiko is in danger, from Iekane. Before my former master disappeared, he sent me a letter, asking me to find Hiko and protect him from Iekane."

Don't ask me why. Don't ask me why.

"Why, why would I care about some street kid?" Of course Iekane asked.

"Because," Yoshimoto took up the thread of my logic and embellished it into a telenovela. "Hiko is actually Mozumi's son. His blood son."

Yoshimoto, WTF? Then… I considered. Oh…that's actually… pretty good.

Since Yoshimoto had his bard on I kept quiet and let him continue. "Hiko's mother was one of Mozumi's concubines. But Mozumi's second wife Osumi was jealous of Niwa, and arranged for an attempt on her life. Frightened for her safety and realizing she was carrying a baby, Niwa decided to fake her death, at least until the child was born. Unfortunately, during childbirth, poor Niwa's death became a reality. This was when her sister decided to raise Hiko as her own. She already had a daughter, Sho, and the children were devoted to each other."

Yoshimoto finished his epic with a flutter of his fan, and I could tell he was holding back from actually bowing. Ok, a little over the top, but at least he had remembered to account for the existence of Sho. Mozumi's vassals might not remember all of his former concubines, but they might remember the existence of a daughter.

"And that is why Iekane plans to attack Sakai. It would be easy enough to kill one small boy in the confusion and make it look like an accident of war." In fact, that probably was why Iekane had chosen Sakai. Or at least one reason. Once again I was glad that Yoshimoto, or rather the Takeda mitsumono, had taken Hiko to Kasugayama.

"That's ridiculous." Iekane addressed Motonari, "Lord Imagawa has spent so much time on the arts that it's rotted his brain. No true warrior would believe such a fanciful tale."

I heard a whisper from the direction of the Kanamori guards. A rather familiar voice, in fact. "Mozumi did have a concubine by name of Niwa."

And thank you Mitsuhide for backing up Yoshimoto's flight of fancy.

Iekane took a nervous step in that direction, trying to read the Kanamori guard's faces.

Another voice, from one of Mozumi's vassals. "Lady Osumi was the jealous type."

That… had also been Mitsuhide, once again employing that ventriloquism trick he'd used back in Sakai.

"Are you really believing this nonsense?" Iekane looked around. But he was nervous. As he spoke, fumbled for something he had in his kimono. Something black and shiny. A pistol?

In that moment, I didn't know who he planned to shoot, but only Mitsuhide would be familiar with the quicker action of a western pistol. But if he acted, it would be the end of his mission – because Iekane wasn't his target. Iekane was mine.

I allowed myself a fast peek at him, trying to determine whether he had something in mind. He looked, for the first time in my memory, agonized. Indecisive. If this incident deterred him from his mission, I knew he would hate himself forever.

And so before Iekane could even point the thing, I jumped at him, hoping to knock it out of his hands.

Instead of pushing me away, Iekane grabbed my wrist. Only then, I could see it wasn't a Nanban pistol at all. It was dark and oblong, gleaming of some unfamiliar material.

Our action carried us backward, and then, rather than twisting, or braking, Iekane let us continue to fall backward, over the wall of the castle entirely in front of the started gazes of Yoshimoto and Motonari… and though Mitsuhide leaped forward, his hands reaching for me, he was not in time to prevent us from sailing over the edge.

Oh shit, this is going to hur-

We never hit the ground.

There was a flash of light, and I felt a bit of a jolt of electricity, and then the world was replaced by stifling grey.

Fog.

I've been here before.

"You are indeed stupid, putting me right where I wanted to be."

It was as if I were back in that crate, as closed in and impenetrable as a coffin, yet without any physical walls that I could pound on or kick. I tried screaming but nothing came out of my mouth.

Wormhole?

Find a piece of yourself that you can hang onto through all of the roles you play. Some thing. Some goal that's more important than who you are portraying at that moment in time. If you lose that piece, you'll lose yourself in the game. You might never find your way out again.

The memory wasn't of the wormhole that pulled Toshiie and I into the Sengoku. No it was of a thick endless grey. A grey where time had ceased to exist. Iekane had pushed me and I'd become trapped, alone, dissolving…

No… not me.

Someone else's memory?

And then I felt Iekane grab onto my wrist, as I could tell he was preparing to throw me off him. Fling me somewhere. Somewhere into the grey. Again. His voice was harsh in my ear. "Give my regards to your father."

"Oh no you don't. Not this time!"Mine or not, that vision was a warning of what could happen if I allowed him to throw me deeper into the wormhole.

I grabbed onto his arm, snatched that odd device from his hand. The wind whipped around us, pulling us in all directions, as we battled over it. Lightning crackled in the distance and Iekane yelped as if he'd been shot.

I tightened my grip on the thing, kicked out, and in the weird gravity field of the wormhole, we ricocheted away from each other. With a howl of rage, Iekane disappeared from my view, spinning, tumbling head over heels, his hand still reaching for the device.

The fog faded, pushed away by a fetid heavy breeze that carried a stench of blood and ash and decay.

As the wormhole gave way to smoke, that eerie silence was replaced by shouts. I had the sensation of falling into intense heat. It was all the warning I had before my feet touched ground. I ran three staggering steps, through the dark haze, tripped over something soft…

… and landed on a body. Even in the heat around me, the person was limp, his clothing soaked and -

Where's the rest of - ?!

Oh God.

Get away from him-

They're…everywhere!

I'd seen battlefields from a distance.

There had never been a desire to get any closer than my perch from a tree in a nearby forest. Though that distance had been enough to give me an idea of how much smoke, noise, and confusion there could be, nothing could have prepared me for the smell or the heat.

Or the feel of a dead body beneath me.