It had been three days since your ordeal with Tadamune, and so were your headaches. You racked up your brain to figure out your purpose and role in this story as they did not make any sense. Clearly, Michikatsu was meant to be "baptised" by the "Hee Hee" curse in his adolescence, yet his father brought him before you as a means to save his face. Then the story would no longer become a proper event?
Why was your host attacked on the night of the siege? Through your superior's reports, there were no signs of the Tokugawa units lurking, let alone approaching your station. Furthermore, returning to your original thought, how would the situation turn out to be if there were any changes made to the events? What happens if the twins were separated earlier than they were? What would the consequences be? Would you become a part of the consequence as a result?
The checklist of questions began to pile up. But the most mind-breaking of them all was
Why the fuck are you a man!?
You had multiple takes on your body, assuming it was due to malnutrition and the genes of your host's body. It was only until your injuries gradually healed, when your were finally able to bathe yourself then you realised.
There was an extra piece of meat dangling between your legs.
In its low-hanging glory, uncircumcised and raw.
The thought of Iso and some of the other female attendants bathing and changing your attire brought you nothing but cold sweats.
They saw everything but didn't say anything...
Your host's voice was rather androgynous out of all pitches. It was common for female nobles to also be referred to as lords.
But at least the size was decent. You were surprised that none of the slashes ever reached your manhood; imagining how excruciating the pain would be, but of course, getting kicked in the family jewels is a completely different pain threshold to labour. Especially with the lack of medical equipment in the current era, childbirth was a thought that brought shivers down your spine.
"My lord, I am here to bring you your meal," Iso's voice interrupted your line of thoughts. You immediately turned towards the female attendant who bowed at you before placing the tray on your desk.
"Thank you," you instinctively uttered before reaching for the chopsticks on your right.
"I have prepared the room for the soon-to-be young master, your lordship," Iso announced, you brought your chopsticks to a halt, midway to your mouth, before placing the small piece of mackerel back into your rice bowl: "How many wakashu did the household raise?"
"This is your first, your lordship," Iso replied curtly.
Wow, way to call me inexperienced.
"Oh," you responded dryly. It was not out of the ordinary for the samurai to practice this, you came across articles regarding said tradition as early as the Heian period. It was considered to be an honour for sons of practising samurai to be sent to another warrior, especially famed and prestigious bushido practitioners. It was once again, a symbiotic agreement- the boy receives proper training, the family of the boy receives utmost honour, the samurai accepting the boy receives-
You took a bite out of the rice and gulped it down.
Great
Bloody lovely
After all the child safeguarding policies you went through, only for you to contribute to this issue.
Your inner conscience let out a scream as you subconsciously pulled your hair while you chewed your rice.
And you wondered who was more of a Michael Jackson between you and Muzan.
Speaking of which.
Sengoku jidai was regarded as the golden age of demon slayers. All because of the development of the breathing styles, all because of Yoriichi and Michikatsu-
You placed your chopsticks back into the tray as realisation hit you.
"My lord?" Iso's voice appeared.
"I will personally go to the manor tomorrow,"
"Your injuries my lord," the female attendant's concern was put to a halt the moment she saw your expression, she paused before giving you a bow: "As you wish, my lord,"