Taste

Downpour

For one, blistering hot moment, Mitsuhide hated Kenshin.

In fairness, he hated nearly everyone around him. He hated Sasuke for allowing the Chatelaine's kidnapping. He hated Shingen for his men's involvement. He hated Nobunaga for his silence, and Mitsunari's stunned expression, and Yukimura's pacing, but most of all, he hated Kenshin. Hadn't he warned them this could happen? Hadn't he said, those weeks ago, that this was possible? It felt like tempting fate, looking back on it.

But that rage cooled and hardened, like a white-hot blade dipped, sizzling, into freezing water, and he redirected all of his fury onto Kennyo.

"Let me go."

"What?" Nobunaga cocked an eyebrow at Mitsuhide.

"Let me go get her." His voice was as soft and cool as he could manage. "My Lord, dispatch me."

"It's highly probable there would be a heavy guard." Mitsunari folded his glasses and tucked them away, all semblance of his angelic smile wiped away. "You would be walking into a suicide mission."

"So I take it Nobunaga's head isn't actually on the table?" Masamune cast a leery eye at Shingen, but the redhead remained silent.

"No." Nobunaga wrapped his haori tighter over his shoulders as the rain picked up. None of the assembled warlords cared much about the weather right now; behind them, Ieyasu grunted.

"Someone help me get this oaf to a tent."

"I've got it." Yukimura rushed to Sasuke's side, and together, they carried him away.

"No?" Mitsuhide repeated.

"No. I won't allow one of my most valuable assets to wander into almost-certain death. I believe I ordered you all to stay alive before you took the field." The man hardened his gaze. "You will remain here."

They all knew how Nobunaga was. Even if he couldn't articulate himself enough, the man worried for his soldier. He cared for them all. Mitsuhide knew that. But, in the moment, all his anger surged and he wheeled on his Lord, snapping. "I am not an asset. I have a name, and it is Akechi Mitsuhide. My request is a formality. I read all the reports from the spies. I know these woods. I know where she might be. So I go, whether you grant me your permission or not."

Silence. Huge droplets drummed on tents and armor, the heartbeat underscoring them.

Nobunaga cracked a thin smile. "So the rumors were true, then?"

Mitsuhide did not answer that. As if to stay the conversation, Shingen passed between them. "If I may, I think we can work with that."

"And we should trust your input, why?" Masamune interjected. "After all, it was one of your own that betrayed you."

"So it would seem. As it stands, I now owe a personal debt to both the Oda and the Princess-Chatelaine to see her recovered. I have an idea, and if you dislike it, I will accept that. Let's discuss it in the tent."

The other warlords turned to go, but Kenshin stepped forward to Mitsuhide, clasping his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he managed, his eyes the haunted stare of a man who lost much and expected now to lose all else. Mitsuhide felt his anger dissolving into dust. "I was blind to your counsel."

"I will get her back." Mitsuhide affirmed, clasping his hand over Kenshin's other shoulder. "She would not want you to suffer for this."

Kenshin's hollow gaze did not wane. "I will give you time to find her, no matter the cost."