Author's Games: Samurai

Sponsorship Battle Task: Imagawa verses Mori

Clan 8: Hirotei Imagawa

"What," Hirotei pointed a critical finger at the man who had burst into the room, "is he doing here?" He eyed his general in irritation. The battle was going to break out in less than an hour and predicting their opponent's movement took more time than he had thought.

Hirotei began to think his guard was sloppy since he had not wished to be disturbed during these crucial moments.

"Diaymo Imagawa!" The man bowed quickly, "I have been sent to inform you that the monks have arrived."

Hirotei froze in surprise. It had been long since he thought they would give no answer. It was informal, but an answer nonetheless. Their arrival was swift and Imagawa was all the better for it.

"And?" Hirotei asked. There had to be more to the message, otherwise a monk would have come himself.

"They intercepted Mori archers along our right flank. They were – ahem – convinced to unite with us."

"So that was their strategy? To have their archers to sneak in and pin us against the mountains, eh?" General Daisuke smirked as he tapped his fingers on the table in front of him, "We won't be the ones pinned against the mountains now, will we?"

Hirotei raised an amused eyebrow at his proposition, "No... no we won't." He turned back to the messenger, "Request the head monk be brought here."

The man bowed once more and ran out.

Hirotei leaned against the table and started sorting out their plans in his head.

...

Yoshitada grinned slyly. His pride was in no way injured by the fact he had lost the fight.

Hirotei looked over his face; surveying every feature as if he would find the answers to his questions etched along the lines on his forehead. Yoshitada's eyes were dark and aloof. They were no longer innocent and bright like Hirotei remembered them to be. Their ominous light showed the pain of a world-weary man.

His body was burly and strong, but his face looked thin. Even in the corners of his smile Hirotei noticed the change of many years... years in which he grew up too fast.

"Nīsan, do you still intend to kill me?" Yoshitada raised a daring eyebrow. His voice bit into Hirotei's chest. It was foreign and unnatural, so different from playful tone he once knew. It wasn't just the change that bothered Hirotei; it was the kind of change he sensed in him.

"Īe." Hirotei lowered his katana, knowing full well he no longer appeared strong and composed. He struggled to maintain a straight face as old memories flooded his thoughts. He longed to embrace his little brother and welcome him back home, but it was not his little brother that stood before him. This was not the Yoshitada he knew. This was someone else. He felt cheated, and he felt it in his soul.

"I would love to stay and catch up, but I have a pressing engagement. Let's have a talk some time, diaymo." Before Hirotei could utter a response, Yoshitada turned and dashed into the crowd, snatching up his mask on the way.

General Daisuke shuffled forward, "D-diaymo! Do you want us to go after him?" he stuttered.

Hirotei opened his mouth only to snap it shut again. He did not know what to do, but he was afraid of what foolishness would slip out of his lips if he did not check himself.

Drawing a shaky breath, he swung his katana back and forth to sheathe it, "Īe. We will let him go. He alluded to his return. I will wait."

...