GOOD NIGHT

IM HERE XD

Unfortunately, I am (not) a dragon

Some words are not usually found with others, not only because of the burden they carry to the viewer, but because they require a specific context to be understood; then there are those that, by their very definition, it is strange to see together in the same sentence: Love and hate, Peace and war, death and life, simple and complex, solitary and group, Hachiman and party, along with long etcetera. Now, while not poetry, said loner experienced, first hand, the history of his country; with an obvious peculiar setting worthy of a blockbuster.

And, yes, Hikigaya Hachiman was at a traditional party in every sense of the word. No, not a classic recreation of some theater companies, if it were so they would be enunciated by multiple charges towards public morals no matter how "historically correct" they wanted to argue.

A well-preserved place, even with its improvisation, full of people unknown to him along with the rhythmic sound of not at all everyday instruments. Although, unlike the extravagant, strident, western music and the glittering lights of the industrial spotlights; the melody native to the ancestral folklore splashed the atmosphere; along with its guttural chants, heaps of wine came from vessel to vessel as refreshment among those present. Women in simple attire, but with highly decorated faces, surrounded and laughed with the carefree men. Their companions, brimming with blood on their faces, laughed and stood in different places. Weapons adorned the ground with their blades and decorations without any care. A chaos brought by the wine, a disorder born of arrogance.

Not only was the atmosphere different from what was expected for a young man of the 21st century, but the office suits and common attire, or school uniforms, were replaced by a pile of armor and war helmets that creaked before the joyful movement of those present. The hustle and bustle of alcohol brightened up the gathering and the laughter of the youngsters added a touch of freshness. The clear sky illuminated and evidenced the magnitude of the celebration, a shocking sensation for the few gatherings Hachiman experienced on trips to his grandparents' house or those few occasions away from home.

Finally, and to his bewilderment, Hachiman himself was in a "pleasant" conversation with a young woman. A young woman who reminded him of a strange mixture of ojou-sama with comic relief worthy of some teenage airhead of his time.

However, from the garments themselves, plus a certain foreboding, he understood about the young woman's lofty position.

Yes, it was all unnatural. Nothing accorded with Hachiman's normal routine, nor with his common sense. Besides, he was brought without his consent to this weird cosplay party (according to his completely altered perception of reality). Although being forcibly taken after coming out of a lake, and wearing a costume straight out of a video game, didn't clear things up either.

How did he get there? For what purpose was he brought there? Who were these people? Was there any way to escape peacefully?

To her dismay, her mind wandered into nothingness itself. No (logical) explanation filled the feeling of discomfort and discomfort he felt through his skin.

"How did I end up here?"

At least, right now, everyone was showing him unbounded respect and hesitating to look directly at him, an advantage to not show their bewilderment all over his face. Not that his expressiveness was remarkable either. It also helped to mention his name (actually that was the most important thing).

He understood that it was beneficial to his survival, but he was also oblivious to that kind of general esteem. Of all the looks, the only person capable of engaging him in conversation in a fluent, or understandable way, is this girl with big eyes and a heavenly appearance who, from time to time, managed to get a word or two out of him besides a nod. I didn't quite understand him. He felt that she spoke like an old woman and at other times with words that were too abstract. Not even the most stereotypical gals had such a thick accent and too many pauses.

What kind of nightmare was that?

He supposed it was a dream, like those so-called lucid ones that staggered the boundaries between reality and fiction. In this case, what did it mean?

Stop playing video games set in the Sengoku era? Attend more social events before going crazy with historical fantasies? Live a normal life isn't normal either?

Be that as it may, the young man prioritized returning home. If this were a dream, he would just have to continue. But, before waking up, he wanted to shake off a certain feeling of discomfort.

"Excuse me, ojou-san, what is the name of this place?"

"Okehazama, Hachiman-sama."

As soon as he heard that name, Hachiman's brain started working again. The information came out all at once and shook him. The data gathered by his characteristic keen observation mingled with the environment to give him some insight into his circumstances. While his more rational side dug into the idea of a dream, his critical instinct took it to heart. The situation was becoming clearer in Hachiman's head, or at least making some sense.

"Yoshimoto-sama, gather some soldiers, please."

The young woman, somewhat puzzled by the sudden show of respect, excessive in front of an equal and the dialect in which she communicated it, reflected for a few moments. Moments that seemed eternal to the young man. How could they not? The authority of that person would decide the fate of most of those present. Fortunately, his demand was accepted with a smile.

"You heard, the reincarnation of Hachiman-sama has spoken. His existence has blessed us with his presence heading for Kyoto, call those who are more sober."

Fortunately, his words were heard. Although for the most fanciful and false reason possible. Perhaps if her name was not related to a god of war they would never listen to her? However, it sounded somewhat contradictory because other cultures related beauty to war. Be that as it may, his heart began to race.

When he heard the word Okehazama, he understood an unlikely truth: death was coming. His executioner would be none other than if historical sources held, a young Oda Nobuna with the force of a natural disaster. The story was depicted in a thousand and one different ways only in the long chain of video games in Japan, not to mention the student discourses about it; but in this "fantasy-conscious" scenario I only prayed that the cavalry charge was not taken out of some light novel.

"Yoshimoto-sama, we met in Okehazama, didn't we?"

"Yes, after Ieyasu finishes with that bimbo Owari, we'll be on our way to Kyoto. will you accompany us, Ryujin Hachiman-sama?"

Perhaps because of the inexplicable feeling of bewilderment, apart from asking again the name of the place, the logical mind of the young man missed some very important data for his survival. Data concerning the suffixes that were given to him.

"We are in danger."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"The rain camouflages Nobunaga's arrival, forget about saving the regiment. Gather as many soldiers as you can and let's escape from here. "

"Hachiman-sama, what a funny joke you said. No one would attack us even if they sought to venture into the unknown. Not even that Nobunaga fellow..."

"Your previous victories were achieved by other forces, your regiment lacks the discipline and experience of the advance guard you sent before. If someone attacks us now, I hope it is not him, though it is impossible..."

"Wait, Your Excellency Ryujin-sama, who is this Nobunaga?"

"Oi, Oi. You must be joking. This is Owari's territory, even if you're a stereotypical ojou-sama, don't you know the local daimyo of the territory you're in? He's the only deranged person capable of venturing into a fight as unequal as this and coming out victorious in the entire history of Japan!"

"The only local daimyo is that barbarian Oda Nobuna..."

"What?"

Thunder roared and silhouettes loomed over the mountain. Hachiman was dispatched moments before the charge, his actions only bought him more time. Would that be enough?

"Enemy attack!"

"Pick up your weapons!"

"Form up!"

A few men, still lucid, warned of the enemy's arrival. However, most were unable to respond to the emergency. All the previous celebrations disappeared without a trace and, with it, only the anxiety of an imminent attack remained.

"Call some more soldiers and tell them to protect us, please. No matter what, you must remain until the end."

"Hachiman-sama? Of course. Even the dumbest monkeys wouldn't attack a dragon. Please help us win this battle and I, Yoshimoto Imagawa will be your faithful follower!"

"Raise your head, Yoshimoto, stay focused. This is your fight. Do as I said. If we manage to talk to them, we must wait for the enemy commander and negotiate your surrender."

"Surrender? You can't be serious! Me, surrendering to those rustic Namban fanatics?"

"Don't you want to stay alive?"

"Huh?"

Following the conversation with the noises of carnage in the back helped to deter any attempts at hubris. Despite the makeshift walls, the pouring rain, the intermittent thunder, and the din of the riders; the cries of combat still dominated the whole place.

"Fate can go on without you. History does not favor the most stubborn and inflexible."

"I... I will. Everyone, protect us and let Oda Nobuna through."

Auditory torture, other than the pre-recorded sounds of some console, placed a great mental burden on a young man distant from any conflict.

Driven by who knows what, the rain of insecurities never shown to subside within him, Hachiman stood in front of the young woman. Different from a semblance of chivalry, Hikigaya knew that his life depended on her authority. With her off the board, his chances of survival equaled zero. In other words, if he wanted to remain in an advantageous position, he needed her alive. Although, I continued to ignore other data due to the stress of the situation.

If all the reactions he saw to his presence were anything to go by, his appearance would "scare" even the bravest of soldiers. Though he doubted how effective he would be against a man overcome by the adrenaline of the moment. For every second that the conflict dragged on, doubts and fears would eat away at his rational decision: At what instant did he let immersion drive his decisions? Is it even necessary to take such a risk? Isn't it better to walk away and not take sides?

Coincidentally, just as his resolve began to waver, the rain increased in intensity and thunder lit up the sky. The fantasy scenario strung everything together for a dramatic entrance from an overall visual perspective. It wasn't long before the climax arrived. Like an avalanche, the galloping of several horsemen pointed dangerously towards the location of the timeless visitor and the maiden, along with a small number of soldiers counted on the palms of their hands.

The wall was knocked down with one superhuman blow. The wooden screen flew considerably and knocked down two bodyguards. Its impact diminished what little morale remained.

If it were a regiment, the fear would be more easily distributed; however, the only one in charge was a woman in thick armor. Speechless, with a gaze focused on a single person, her spear generating hum, the heavy steps of her walk: a sensation similar to a reunion with certain death.

Paralyzed, like everyone else, he forced his whole body to begin to reason a surrender. His mentality may not have been greater than that of a general in his natural state, though his aides were the most sober of the party; however, he was the most accustomed to the kind of terrifying design in armor. To come out of the stupor, and dilute the fear, was impossible; but the time lengthened before the soldier's heavy walk.

"It is not necessary to fight. We surrender."

The woman hesitated to approach. Her steps slowed down. Her gaze reacted as if she had come out of a trance, to her surroundings. A fierce glance swept over the place. As he expected, in his hypothetical deduction, she recoiled from his presence as if it were something dangerous. Also, it helped the extreme concentration she was experiencing; she didn't even notice that everyone else and he was so close.

Hachiman laughed involuntarily. His unconscious considered such a fact amusing. Relating his existence as a cause of fear, when he was not even sure what to do next, was the biggest joke to tell himself at a turning point.

The time of bewilderment gained him a few seconds. He would try to engage in a longer conversation, perhaps to keep his neck close to her body until the arrival of someone more important. It was reasonable to see the hesitation at his word. As far as he was concerned, no one knew of his existence, besides his strange and colorful attire. He went overboard with the direct taunt towards the enemy.

"You, what are you?"

"Unfortunately, I'm not a dragon..."

Starting with a joke wasn't the best decision of his life, but not the worst either when considering creating a context for the dialogue. At least until another soul peeked in to destroy this intricate process of diplomacy.

His fears were realized in the footsteps of another person. The illusion of certain death collapsed upon seeing him directly.

There, faced with an improbable coincidence, he glimpsed an image never before seen in his daily reader's record. A young man dressed in some sort of modern uniform, plus a crudely fitted soldier's armor, was arriving unarmed towards the enemy base. Then appeared, though now less striking, more of the dreaded enemy general's men. At this rate, the arrival of the enemy general and the defeat of the defenses were a done deal. However, when he saw another cutie mount and parade in the robes of a Sengoku general, he knew that meeting "Yoshimoto" and having it sound so familiar in his head, he should never have neglected his more analytical side regardless of his situation. At the very least, the negotiation would start on a good note. Words are not enough to describe the astonishment and relief experienced in his psyche. He could only manage to exclaim, from the depths of his head, a certain disdain.

"A high school student... You must be kidding..."

"Oh, he's a Japanese student of the modern era! I'm not the only one who came here! Now that idiot Nobuna must believe me!"

"I'm still here, Saru"

At that instant, the center line of the greatest naval combat in history began to warp.