Twelve Lies I Told Shingen Takeda

Chapter Three: Tokin

After the humiliating training session ended, I followed Shingen through the labyrinth of corridors, gardens and interior structures to a centrally located room in the castle, where three women – seamstresses apparently – were working on various sewing projects. When we appeared in the doorway, their conversation hushed, then picked up again with blushes and giggles and voices that rose an octave in excitement.

Shingen bowed to them. "A garden of the prettiest flowers in Kasugayama." Then he seated himself next to a woman about my own age – wait! I knew her. Or rather, I had seen her before, in Azuchi – she had once come into the booksellers to retrieve that bookworm, Mitsunari. Unlikely that she would recognize me now, since I'd been disguised as an old man at the time.

Shingen gave her an even deeper bow. "Goddess, you become more beautiful every time I see you. By this time next month, I will have to shield my eyes to behold your radiance." The Goddess in question rolled her own eyes, though a slight blush indicated that she was not completely unaffected.

He turned to greet each of the women, "Angel, that color you're wearing brings out the sparkle in your eyes," he said to a pretty girl in a soft pink kimono. To the other seamstress, he said, "Sweetheart, you're glowing. Motherhood clearly suits you. How is the little one doing?"

That netted him three blushes, two sighs, one fluttered hand to the heart, and a burst of information about a four month old boy who had learned to roll over, but not back (which apparently said infant was not pleased about). All through the monologue, Shingen, smiled and patted her hand, which in turn caused more blushes and sighs from all the women.

If you bottled that charisma, you could probably solve the fossil fuel crisis.

Greetings taken care of, Shingen turned back to the 'Goddess.' "Mai, this is Katsuhira, my new courier, who could use some things to wear."

Oh? This was Sasuke's friend Mai, who was now "with Kenshin"? Huh. Somehow, I had expected her to be lying on a divan eating peeled grapes, not sitting in a room embroidering butterflies around the edges of a silk... something-or-other. Then she aimed a sweet smile at me, and I began to understand.

I explained my clothing dilemma. "Please don't go to any trouble. I'll take castoffs if they're available. Anything basic and dark." Even the modern version of Katsuko had lived mostly in blue, grey, and black athletic gear. I still mourned the loss of the hoodie I'd worn when I arrived in this era. I'd slept in it every night – it had become a security blanket. But after a couple years, it had disintegrated (although Fume had helped that process along by putting extra lye in the wash kettle.)

"Ignore him, he's got boring taste," said the man who wore his kimono lower than a porn star at a nightclub – had it dipped even more since we entered the room? If it plunged any deeper he'd be in danger of a serious wardrobe malfunction. "I'll leave him in your lovely and capable hands."

Once Shingen left, the other women picked up their conversation again, this time with added sighs and coos and musings about the size of his... feet (definitely a euphemism). Mai pointed to a mark on the floor and brought out some leather strips that she used to measure me. "Don't look so worried, Katsuhira. I like to make clothes that make people happy, so if you want dark clothes..." She paused, and gave me a questioning look.

I assured her that I did. "Dark and unrestricting clothing. I do a lot of riding and climbing trees, so I need freedom of movement." Additionally, there was that need to disguise my figure, although the leather corset-binder-instrument- of-torture-thing that I wore around my breasts did a good job of that.

"Then that's what you shall have." She grabbed a piece of paper and brush and made a quick sketch. Even upside down, it looked like a pretty good drawing. I wondered if she would be able to make a copy of the portrait of Toshiie that Francisco had done a few years back. That drawing was the last link to a life that was becoming dimmer and dimmer in my mind. Sometimes I wasn't even sure if I remembered exactly what my brother looked like, and often unrolled the drawing to refresh my memory. After so much handling, the drawing was fairly battered -- it would be great to have a backup drawing before this one disintegrated like my hoodie.