The Angel of Death-Ikemen Sengoku

Chapter 4-Familiar

Akira and Masamune meet up with Hideyoshi, who was less than pleased to be in her presence, and they continued from Kyoto to Azuchi. Eventually, they arrived at the gates to the city-and onward to Azuchi Castle.

Akira whistles in amazement. "It's beautiful....just like always." "Huh?" Hideyoshi snaps his head to look at her. "You've been here before?" Akira nods her head, and Masamune cackles behind her. "If you like, you can check the records, but it was about 3 years back." "Well, then." Masamune stops laughing, and Akira turns slightly to face him.

"Welcome back to Azuchi Castle, home of the Oda forces."

"Thank you. Now get your hands off me before-" Akira gets cut off, as a woman calls out, "Hideyoshi! Welcome back~!" Then, a crowd of women begin to yell at the men. "Over here, Hideyoshi!" "Oh, Masamune, you're as dashing as ever! Who's your friend?" Akira's eye twitches at 'friend'. It almost sounded like she was his mistress, or that if she wasn't a 'friend' then they would try and bash her head in.

"How can you get this welcome every single time, Hideyoshi? Break a heart or two, would you?" Both sets of eyes, or three eyes to be exact, land on Hideyoshi, waiting for a response. "What do you take me for?" The question was definitely rhetorical as he dismounts and greets the gathered women.

"I've told you there's noneeed to come all the way to the gate for me. What about your work?" "I finished early so I could see you when you came back." "Hideyoshi, will you be staying for long? I hope we'll have time to catch up." Hideyoshi smiles slightly at the women and says, "Don't let me keep you waiting. I'll send a letter as soon as things settle down."

"So he's not a hardass, only I get his stuck-up attitude."

"He's normally like this. Guess you're just special." "Oh yes I feel very special, the extremely nice man only is a dick to me." "Pfft-" Masamune turns his head and muffles a snicker. He calms himself before meeting Akira's gaze again. "Then again, it goes both ways. Not many women wouldn't fall for Hideyoshi at first sight."

"So then, who exactly are you?"

Masamune leans in close staring Akira down with his lone, blue eye. Akira doesn't give, staring right back at the One-Eyed Dragon of Oshu.

"Welcome back,Lord Hideyoshi, Lord Masamune."

Both warlord's heads swivel and look at the voice, and Akira takes the opportunity to dismount the horse. Standing side by side there were two men, the one dressed in purple who spoke, and one in orange that Akira faintly recognized.

"My my, even the sourpus came to greet you." Masamune dismounts the horse as well, and hands the reins off to an attendant. They walk up the two men, and the one in purple is the first to speak. "I've been expecting your arrival, Lady Akira." "Please don't call me that. I'm not a lady or anyone of importance. And I've got nothing more to say to that-"

"She looks pitiful."

Akira grits her teeth slightly, but makes no outward signs of annoyance. "And you look like a stuck-up fuzzball, but then again I shouldn't have expected much." "Why you-"Before Ieyasu can return the insult, Hideyoshi approaches from behind.

"Ieyasu, that's no way to greet someone. Can't you give them a smile at least?" "Can he? I'm not sure I've ever seen him smile. I wonder what it looks like..." Both Hideyoshi and Masamune lean closer to Ieyasu, who instinctively leans back. He scowls at the men before saying, "Why is that important?"

"You need to learn to be more sociable." Hideyoshi speaks tenderly, and with a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'll help." Masamune grins ear-to-ear. "Hideyoshi, you take his left." The one-eyed man says this almost like a command. Ieyasu's face scrunches up as he tries, and fails, to escape the tickling assault.

Akira turns to the man donned in purple. "I never got your name." He smiles brilliantly, as if he shines as bright as the sun. "I'm Mitsunari Ishida, one of Lord Hideyoshi's vassals." After his introduction, he turns to the other warlords. "Perhaps we should save the reuntions until we get some rest."

"Speak for yourself, I'm hardly tired." Ieyasu shoots a glare at Mitsunari. It seemed that his energetic and positive attitude was an annoyance to him. "Oh really?" Eyes fall on Akira.

"You're certainly scrawnier than I remember."

"Wha-" Ieyasu's eyes widen in clear surprise, but Akira just grins at him, before turning to Mitsunari, who quickly dulls his shock. "After you." "Of course Lady Akira-" "Just Akira." "-there's already a room prepared for your stay." Mitsunari leads her into the Azuchi Castle as the other warlords stare in shock at the woman who saved their lord.

Mitsunari pulls open a sliding door, and reveals a cozy room. In the corner is a desk, and rolled up alongside it is a futon. "Lady Akira, this will be your room. I do hope it will be enough for you." "I'm sure it will. And please, stop calling me 'Lady'-it makes me feel old, and trust me, I am in no way a lady." Akira stops looking around the room, and turns to Mitsunari, who begins to speak again.

"But you're Nobunaga's savior." Akira's hand twitches at the word 'savior', a behavior that goes unnoticed by Mitsunari as he continues. "I couldn't possibly." "It's fine-I'm not used to being treated like this, and honestly I don't need it." "I understand." Mitsunari beams at her. "I'll agree under the condition that you stay informal with me as well." Akira grins back. "Agreed."

"Please stay here-someone will come to fetch you soon." And with that, Mitsunari's gone. Akira sighs and sits down at the desk. She pulls a slightly crumpled piece of paper out of her yukata.

I'm sorry I couldn't explain in person. In 3 months, a wormhole will open and presumably take us back to the present. When I can, I'll drop by and get your opinion on the matter. Signed Sasuke.

Turning to a nearby candle, Akira takes the note, and holds it over the flame until it catches. It crumbles in her hand, turning black as it's engulfed by the flames. Soon nothing but ashes remain, and Akira blows them out of her hand. Then she reaches inside her yukata once more, and pulls out a leather-bound book. She sets it on the desk, and dips a brush in ink. First time she's had ink in awhile. Her fingers brush past the few pages that have been written in some sort of dye-and even a drawing or two. Then a blank page settles, and the brush dances across it.

Published October 14th, 2020