Unexpectedly, Nobuna Yields

Hiratsuka Shizuka was delivering her usual history lesson with her trademark energy and determination.

"The Battle of Okehazama, where Nobunaga and Imagawa faced each other, is one of the most famous and impactful episodes in Japanese history due to its unpredictable outcome. From the start, the odds were not in Oda's favor. Although the Shinchō-Kō Ki mentions the exaggerated figures of 45,000 soldiers against a mere thousand, historians agree that it was likely around 25,000 Imagawa soldiers against two to three thousand under Nobunaga's command."

Hiratsuka paused briefly and scanned the classroom. Her sharp gaze, like that of a hawk, landed on a distracted student. Hikigaya Hachiman was slumped over his desk, staring intently downward with his textbook open in front of him as if engrossed in its contents. But the truth was obvious to anyone who knew him: that book was nothing more than an improvised shield to disguise his complete lack of interest—and drowsiness.

With a subtle sigh, Hiratsuka-sensei resumed her lecture.

"In any case, after conquering several fortifications with relative ease, Imagawa's troops decided to stop and rest, celebrating in a place called Dengakuhazama, a kind of narrow ravine. Nobunaga, aware that his three thousand men couldn't directly face such a large army in open combat, decided to use the area's geography to plan a surprise attack."

While the class followed the story with varying levels of interest, Hachiman remained in his carefully rehearsed pose, confident that his student camouflage had gone unnoticed. However, Hiratsuka-sensei's faint smile suggested that not everyone in the room was so easily fooled.

With a precise motion, a piece of white chalk flew straight toward Hikigaya. Hiratsuka-sensei, with the aim that only years of experience could grant, managed to hit the edge of the book the boy was using as his refuge, abruptly snapping him out of his daydream.

"Well, Hikigaya? What happened next?" she asked, her tone blending the authority of a teacher with the patience of someone who already expected minimal cooperation.

For any distracted student, this would have been the most uncomfortable and embarrassing moment of their day. But Hikigaya Hachiman was not just any student. He possessed a unique skill, honed through years of perfecting the art of keeping a low profile: Listen Hikki. Among his 108 personal techniques, this one allowed him to pick up fragments of conversations even when he was on the brink of sleep—an invaluable tool for situations like this.

After a moment of what seemed like calculated deliberation, Hachiman responded with an air of seriousness:
"After assessing the situation, Nobunaga maneuvered his small army to position themselves just above the ravine without being detected by the sentries of the Imagawa camp. From there, they waited for the perfect moment to strike. A storm broke out, throwing the Imagawa troops into chaos. Taking advantage of the confusion, Nobunaga ordered the charge. The disoriented Imagawa soldiers were unable to organize themselves and were easily defeated."

Hiratsuka looked at him with a mix of disbelief and approval. "It seems you were paying attention after all," she remarked, though both of them knew that wasn't entirely true.

Hiratsuka-sensei barely finished recounting the finer details of the surprise attack at the Battle of Okehazama when the echo of her voice faded from Hikigaya's psyche.

"Imagawa Yoshimoto's defeat… I think that's where I left off yesterday in Nobunaga's Ambition—a historical piece that could be summed up in one simple phrase: expectations versus reality. History has a peculiar way of unfolding. It's like a poorly written romcom (not to mention its reenactments don't make it any better). Grand plans, elaborate strategies, everything seemingly under control, and then… poof, an overly motivated protagonist decides to throw the script out the window."

Now slightly more awake, Hikigaya glanced at his textbook, as if trying to find answers hidden between the lines.

"Imagawa Yoshimoto had it all, didn't he? An army that seemed invincible, the title of daimyo, and even the terrain to his advantage. But, as always, history doesn't reward those who meet expectations—it rewards those who shatter them. Nobunaga Oda, the eternal side character, with no lines and no shine… until he decided to steal the show with his surprise attack. A bold move, a bit of luck, and the great Yoshimoto was off the stage."

His gaze lifted toward the center of the classroom, settling on a key figure from the school's most popular clique.

"Funny, isn't it? Yoshimoto's defeat didn't just mark his end but also the beginning of something much bigger. It's like his fall shoved Nobunaga into the spotlight. An irony that's almost poetic—if it weren't so cruel."

Hikigaya thought back to the most recent incidents after the cultural festival.

"And why does any of this matter to me? Well, I guess because I see a bit of Yoshimoto in myself. Not because I'm ambitious or have an army (let's be real, I barely have the will to get out of bed), but because I know what it's like to believe you're in control, only to find out life always has a wildcard up its sleeve."

He lowered his gaze back to the desk, his eyes drifting toward the door. The clock on the wall showed it was almost time for the break. A faint sound of a car echoed outside. All that was missing was a dog's bark and a boy running to its rescue to recreate his first experience in high school.

"The lesson here isn't about victories or defeats. Yoshimoto believed his fate was secured. I, on the other hand, learned long ago that expecting anything from life is the fastest way to invite disappointment. But... being defeated isn't so bad if it means pushing someone else toward something greater. Even failure has a purpose. You can lose the battle but still win the war."

Hikigaya let everything sink in. His time for deep reflection resurfaced once again. Although, indirectly, it was triggering yet another call for attention from his teacher.

"At least Yoshimoto had an army to remember him. All I have are these internal monologues, the express rumors flying around since the festival ended… oh, right, there's also Yukinoshita and Yuigahama. Come to think of it, they're probably scarier than any battle in history."

Hiratsuka-sensei had finished explaining everything. Another white missile flew smoothly toward the desk in the third row next to the door. The entire column jolted awake in surprise. Hikigaya Hachiman was almost knocked out—if only the projectile hadn't veered off course by a few centimeters.

"Something to share with the rest of us, Hikigaya?"

He shook his head rather impulsively, while murmurs scattered around him. It wasn't unusual for Hachiman to be addressed during history class. However, his participation always felt too surprising to the others, as if he were a new student every single time.

"Nothing, sensei. Just reflecting on Nobunaga's greatness… and how unfair fate can be."

Hiratsuka raised an eyebrow before returning to the front of the class. Luck had a way of diverting many paths.

The bewilderment on Hachiman's face should have been evident. However, perhaps due to adrenaline or sheer terror, his expression twisted only into a grimace of disappointment. For a moment, his mind, in a last-ditch effort, tried to offer a reasonable explanation for what was happening before his eyes. A scene that seemed ripped straight out of a fever dream or, worse, one of those absurd light novels he'd once read purely out of fascination with his eighth-grade syndrome.

But that wasn't the worst part. Not at all. Perhaps the plot of "I'm just an average high school student with no social skills but great gamer abilities summoned to another world" should consider skipping him as a supporting cast member. After all, his presence wouldn't help heal the existential crisis of the average isekai reader.

And yet, here he was—a high school student, wearing what could only be described as a combination of a school uniform and Sengoku-era armor, standing in front of him with an expression of absolute confidence and familiarity. For someone like Hachiman, who usually avoided problems as if they were contagious diseases, this could only mean one thing: the infection was about to spread throughout his entire being.

For his small comfort, strictly speaking, he hadn't been sent to medieval Europe.

"Saru?" Hachiman repeated, frowning as he tried to piece together the surreal puzzle in front of him. He'd read enough to know that nickname belonged to one of the most famous generals of the Sengoku period. But somehow, the idea of someone using it here, in the middle of this bizarre Japanese history reenactment with an anime twist, was too ridiculous even by his standards. Not to mention the fact that the person in question looked like a young Japanese guy in a hyper-realistic cosplay at a convention.

"That's right, it's me, Saru!" exclaimed the newcomer, thumbing his chest as if this was a declaration he should be proud of. His tone was so enthusiastic it bordered on annoying. But before any semblance of a normal conversation could take place—before Hachiman could even get a word in—the young man kept talking as if he were performing on a stage.

"Wait, no. Uh, my name is Sagara Yoshiharu, a soldier of the Oda clan!" He pointed to himself with his thumb. "You… you must be another time traveler, right? No one else would know the term 'high school student'!"

Hachiman sighed. Of course. As if this situation couldn't get any worse.

"Time traveling isn't exactly something I did by choice," Hachiman replied in a dry tone. "In fact, I'm not even sure how I ended up here, let alone what the hell is going on. I feel… different, in more ways than one."

"Don't worry, fellow time traveler!" he declared with a confident smile. "Together, we'll dominate this era, defeat the enemies, and conquer destiny!"

Hachiman observed him in silence, his expression wavering between skepticism and existential exhaustion. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen.

"Great, just what I needed. An overly enthusiastic partner in this absurd historical play. What's next? Eastern dragons trying to replicate Journey to the West? A video game system suddenly appearing to fight against disfigurement? A mecha battle on the battlefield because there's a twin planet in this parallel world?"

Before Saru could respond with a Gundam reference, both of their attention was drawn to the sound of approaching horse hooves. An imposing figure appeared on the horizon, mounted on a majestic horse and flanked by a group of armored soldiers and several riders. The air seemed to grow thicker, as if the atmosphere itself recognized the importance of the one about to arrive.

As the figure came closer, Hachiman was able to make out a young woman with an elegant but imposing posture, dressed in Sengoku-era general attire that surprisingly fit her feminine frame. Her face radiated a mix of authority and determination that made it hard to look away.

Hachiman immediately assumed she must be Oda Nobuna, the central figure of this strange world he now inhabited. Having her in front of him was a cold and harsh reminder: he wasn't in any ordinary place, nor in an ordinary time. This was still a battlefield.

He had heard countless stories about Oda Nobunaga throughout his life, but none of them could prepare him for this alternate version, where the echoes of history were mixed with touches of fantasy and anachronisms. Reality, or whatever this was, slapped him with its peculiarity at every moment.

"I'm here, Saru. Let me remind you, I am your general, and as such, I deserve your respect on the battlefield. You can't go calling me... Who are you?" Nobuna asked, her tone firm and authoritative, though slightly tinged with disbelief. Her voice, usually unshakable, wavered for a moment, just like her horse, which neighed nervously while she kept her eyes fixed on Hachiman. The strange clothes she wore seemed harder to process than any enemy on the battlefield.

"Fool of Owari, if I were you, I would bow before the wrath of..."

Before Imagaya Yoshimoto could finish his sentence, probably loaded with a comment as subjective as it was problematic, Hachiman acted quickly, covering his mouth to prevent any imminent diplomatic disaster. His expression was a mix of irritation and resignation as he tried to restrain his unexpected and unfortunate ally.

Although the atmosphere seemed to have relaxed a bit thanks to Yoshiharu's almost childlike optimism, Hachiman knew that even the slightest slip-up could turn that fragile balance into total chaos. As confusing as the situation was, one thing was clear: most of the people present had no idea who he was or where he came from.

If his historical knowledge didn't fail him (which was unlikely, given his experience as a perpetually observant student), he was in the midst of the feudal era, a period where literacy rates were so low that most people relied more on rumors than on verifiable facts. Any statement that painted him as something beyond comprehension—like a divine being, a dragon, or some other nonsense—would only serve to complicate things even further.

The authority of a general was the cornerstone of this world, and Hachiman understood that better than anyone. That authority didn't just reside in words but in the pride and image they projected. After a victory of this magnitude, Nobuna likely radiated a renewed sense of confidence and determination, something Hachiman wasn't willing to tarnish with his mere existence. Another episode in this absurd historical comedy, where any wrong move could mean a game over.

For a moment, all the possible responses crossed Hachiman's mind: something clever, something diplomatic, something that could at least prevent his head from ending up separated from his body. Finally, he opted for the one thing he knew how to do well: tell the truth in the most sarcastic way possible.

"Just a lost guy who clearly chose the worst place to appear, though I'm not complaining, I got a nice deal," he shrugged, giving the easiest response of the entire afternoon.

To his surprise, Nobuna didn't seem enraged. Instead, she gave a small smile, as if she found his response amusing.

"Interesting," she murmured, before turning her attention back to Saru. "So, Saru… what do you have to say about this?"

Yoshiharu bowed deeply, as if he were presenting Hachiman at a show. Even if his attire didn't give away his origin, he was sure this young man dressed in an extravagant manner was a comrade from the future.

"This man is my trump card, Nobuna! Behold the model of youth from the twenty-first century. Now do you believe me when I say I come from the future?"

Hachiman blinked, surprised by Yoshiharu's boldness. Apparently, the leader of the Oda clan was different from her fearsome historical counterpart. Otherwise, he couldn't explain how the enthusiasm and confidence of a subordinate, a mere soldier, could be directed at a full-fledged general. What kind of historical delirium was this? Where did the prerogative of a solo summoning to another world go?

"The future, huh?" Nobuna repeated, her assessing gaze returning to Hachiman. "I suppose we'll find out soon enough, but for now, we need to establish…"

"Nothing must leave this place."

Perhaps due to the strange nature of his outfit, and the odd features of his body, he didn't control his tone of voice, which alerted everyone present. Multiple spears rose instantly. Even Nobuna didn't know how to react to the dissonance between the friendly image (given by Yoshiharu) and the imminent danger (instinctively sensed for survival).

As strange as it may seem, the dark clouds in the sky disappeared and gave way to numerous bright flashes that dazzled the more observant. The weather returned to its previous state, and the tension eased considerably.

"Alright, strange traveler." Nobuna crossed her arms, continuing to gaze at him intently. She chose to trust Saru's judgment. After all, it was the "future" he claimed to know.

"What do you have in mind?"

As strange as it seemed, Nobuna felt like she was forgetting something very important in this interaction.

"While we've surrendered, I propose that you camouflage this victory of yours. Give us some time; it will all be known in a few days anyway."

"Why should I?"

"Today's battle has been an important victory, but if the news spreads too quickly, other forces might react before you can consolidate your potential holdings. If we let Imagawa keep up the appearance of control over certain conquests for a few days, you could buy time to fortify your future territories and prevent moves that could hinder your expansion."

Hachiman's argument was logical, but also a calculated maneuver to distance himself from the main plot. If Nobuna accepted, he could justify his absence from the main conflict while "keeping the enemy forces at bay." It was his best chance to avoid becoming the center of attention in a historical drama with fantastical elements. At least, it meant days of reflection on his situation.

Nobuna stared at him in silence, considering his words. Finally, she turned to Saru, who was by her side, with his usual mix of enthusiasm and boldness, not hiding his joy at having a companion with whom to discuss his reality. Nobuna's gaze seemed to convey a message similar to "Saru, is this... something that should happen?"

Yoshiharu, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of making such a strategic decision, scratched the back of his head before responding with a forced smile. He hadn't imagined such a scenario, mainly because he was guided by a prewritten framework (the history he knew); so, after the victory, he didn't think beyond that.

"Well... if this guy says it makes sense, I guess it's not a bad idea. The best thing is to get an S victory in less time, right?"

Amidst the calm conversation between both sides, many soldiers stopped guarding them and were replaced by the generals of the Oda army. To say he was stunned would be an understatement. Hikigaya Hachiman cursed his luck and how little it mattered to him to be a broken character in a world where his sister didn't exist.

Nobuna, for her part, nodded, still thoughtful, before calling Niwa Nagahide, one of her most trusted generals, who had been in the background observing the exchange.

"I like you. Niwa will escort you to your territory so you can maintain it."

A tacit nod was given as she responded with a smile.

For Hachiman, accepting this measure was a small price to pay to stay off the radar while moving the pieces of the political board. It wasn't the ideal exit, of course, but it was enough to avoid his head rolling or, worse yet, being forced to actively participate in a war whose outcome he had no interest in whatsoever.

"Wait... What did you say your name was?" Nobuna asked, curiosity evident in her eyes.

"Hikigaya… Hachiman," he replied, unable to hide the slight confusion in his tone. He had hoped they would continue the conversation without giving him time to be recognized by name. He just wanted to be treated as "he" rather than "who"—that way, it was easier to remain unnoticed. Since he couldn't trust his new appearance, he thought everything would go well until he was left with nothing but saying his name.

Before he could add anything else, some silly remark that would make more of an impact than the mere mention of his name, Imagawa Yoshimoto's voice interrupted abruptly. The political hostage forgot her status as a prisoner to complain like anyone at home.

"Hachiman-sama! Hurry, hurry. This heat is unbearable, I don't want to stay in this province for another minute."

Hachiman sighed, glancing at Yoshimoto, who was waving her fan in irritation. Her "ojō-sama with a brain in the clouds" attitude was almost comical. For a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if there was a lady with a more composed and cold personality in another fief, someone with whom he could get along better.

However, his musings were interrupted by a flash of reality. No matter how much this false sense of tranquility enveloped him, he knew this was his moment to act. With two generals from opposing sides around him, the doubts that had been chasing him would have to be resolved sooner or later.

The key was to maintain the right balance: neither too involved nor so distant as to raise suspicion. A complicated move, but one Hachiman was willing to attempt.

"A dragon..."

Nobuna let out a smile, not only of satisfaction but also of intrigued reflection. As she watched the strange young man walk away with the defeated Imagawa Yoshimoto, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

"No wonder Yoshimoto surrendered, Saru," she murmured, letting out a sigh of relief. "Even if his luck seemed to have improved, I think the gods are showing their good side. Perhaps I should visit more temples to scold them for leaving this land unprotected."

Yoshiharu raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Nobuna's haughty attitude emerged so suddenly that he forgot the recent tension in the air.

"What do you mean, Nobuna?"

The young general turned toward him, her sharp gaze lit by a spark of excitement and grandeur.

"You saw his clothes, right? That guy is no ordinary person. There are stories about beings called Ryūjin, supposed dragons who descend to get involved in human affairs. I always thought they were reclusive, indifferent to the earthly world. But it seems that's not the case. It's very likely that this stranger influenced Yoshimoto's decision to surrender from the beginning."

Saru frowned, clearly offended.

"Are you saying my efforts were all for nothing, Nobuna? Don't be so cruel as to deny me the credit I deserve."

Nobuna raised a hand, calming him with a gesture.

"I'm not saying that. However..." She paused, pondering her words before offering a slight smile. "It's just that, even if we both think we know a future, the paths of dragons seem different. They're known for being capricious with the celestial path they remember."
Saru looked at her skeptically, but Nobuna continued, not paying attention to him.

"Even a novice in the field can see the magnificence of a dragon. That's what Yoshimoto told me before she left."

Saru snorted, crossing his arms. While he was also surprised by his companion's appearance, he quickly overcame it to interact with him.

"How rude."

Nobuna let out a light laugh, her carefree tone contrasting with the weight of the conversation.

"Well, it's not our problem anymore, at least for now. Everyone, let's go back to rest and celebrate!"

Nobuna commanded with a sweeping gesture, her energy renewed.

"We'll see how the situation develops in a few days. If everything goes well, even that snake will give me some praise, hehehe."

As the group prepared to return, Nobuna couldn't help but throw one last glance toward the figure disappearing in the distance. In her mind, the enigma that the strange "dragon" represented was still unresolved, but for now, that could wait. Her father's words about staying out of the supernatural world echoed in her mind once more.

Meanwhile, far away, in his attempt to ride a horse, Hachiman was barely holding on due to the extra weight on his back. After reorganizing his remaining strength in a brief meeting, they headed toward Suruga. However, Imagawa Yoshimoto wouldn't stop clinging to him. Hachiman swallowed, feeling a shiver run down his spine, knowing that his peaceful days were officially behind him.

PD: Good morning, I've finally returned xd. I'll post more updates later. Also, here's the link to (Usually it's in English, but I think it'll be understandable with Google Translate) Pa .t.r.e.../BizarreThing. Yes, my username is BizarreThing xd. Anyway, until next time. Feel free to comment, ask questions, and share.