#slbp motoyasu

[mikawa-province]

The Nile

Title: The Nile Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad: Party/Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran: Love Ballad Pairing: Tokugawa Ieyasu x MC Rating: PG-13 Word Count (MS Word): 4,545 

現状否定　（げんじょうひてい） [genjouhitei] (n) refusal to accept the present situation; denial of the existing situation

Happy Birthday, Tokugawa Ieyasu!

This was not how he envisioned his evening to be.

All Matsudaira Motoyasu wanted was a nice dinner and a bath before he retired to his bedroom, in preparation for a hectic morning ahead, which would consist of heading to the airport to make it in time for his morning flight. Business trips were the bane of existence, especially when it involved flying out of his home country to meet with clients.

Frankly, while he loved his day job, this was one aspect that he thought they should do away with, as he has never been the type to mingle and be nice. Within his workplace, he was known as the sarcastic one who had to be told to stop cursing out, lest he offended the people around him with his foul mouth.

… Not like he cared, really. His workplace could tell him to tone down his cursing all they like, it's not like he would cave in. Rather, his current career choice was something he was doing to tide him over until his dream job became stable enough to be a career.

And just like every dream job, he was still not at that level where he could abandon his day job for the one he had been dreaming of ever since he was old enough to understand what he wanted to do in life.

“Huh, never realize you'd be the type to cohabit with a woman, Motoyasu. Or is she your wife, as the rumors say?” came the familiar drawl that made him want to cringe openly.

Was there any law protecting citizens from getting sued if he slammed the door and claimed that any injury that resulted from said action was simply an ‘accident’? His unwanted guest’s fingers were on the door frame, the most perfect spot for what he was planning, and he was so very tempted to close the door with as much force as he could muster. That should be enough to get his point across.

Then again, no matter how much he tried, Oda Saburou never bothered listening to him.

That, and the man was such a huge gossip, nothing escaped his notice, his hearing, and his network.

As expected of a politician, Motoyasu thought to himself darkly before smiling at his childhood acquaintance.

“She’s neither. The woman is my housekeeper.” while he did not want Oda to know what she really was to him, he figured that telling the partial truth would be enough to satisfy the other man’s curiosity.

Oda, unfortunately, did not thinking that was all there was to the story and pressed on, the notorious busybody that he was. “Really? Just a housekeeper? Yet she lives with you?” [1]

He felt his eyes glare at the direction of the shrewd legislator giving him a sly look. “The arrangement I have with her is none of your business.”

Motoyasu wished that this scenario had never happened.

It was one thing for Oda to confront him about this… unusual setup without her within earshot. Conversations like these were done at expensive restaurants, specifically private rooms that were confirmed not to have been bugged nor tampered with.

Now, with her standing by the doorway beside him… this was the worst scenario he could ever think of. Not only because it did not make sense that member of the National Diet was visiting him on a whim, but Oda was being too persistent with his line of questioning and seemed way too interested and invested with his personal life.

The look on her face said it all: confused, incredulous, and most of all… shock.

Representative Oda Saburou of Aichi Prefecture’s First District [2] was at the front door and acted with so much arrogance, it seemed as if he owned the place.

The blond man resisted every urge to roll his eyes at the sight of the most irritating man in existence. “... Can you leave? I have an early flight to catch tomorrow—” before he could tell the man to fuck off and get lost, Oda raised a hand, as if to greet her and winked!

To his own surprise and anger, she blushed.

Blushed.

Fucking hell.

“Hey you, why don’t you work for me instead? No doubt Motoyasu’s pay rate is shit, and you probably don’t even have your own room.” Oda said, referring to his apartment setup that was definitely not up to a politician’s standards. “Can you really stand to live in a place like this? I’m sure I have more to offer than he does, no offense.” the last part sounded like he had randomly thrown that in to soften the blow, but Motoyasu knew better.

Oda was a demon in his own right, and was subtly trying to provoke him, in an attempt to test his patience.

… Maybe this was the sign he was waiting for.

Oda would still be able to live normally, even after losing a few fingers, right?

Then again, he didn’t need fingers if all he did was use his personal seal [3] to stamp everything in approval.

Just before he could take a single step towards the entryway to slam the door shut, she finally found her voice.

“I-If I may, Representative Oda…” she began hesitantly, wringing her hands before looking directly at the politician. “I would like to respectfully decline your offer. I am happy with what I am doing right now, and Motoyasu has been nothing but kind to me ever since I started working for him.”

Did she just… call him by his first name…?!

He shouldn’t be that surprised, really.

Given that his western upbringing had made him immune to getting surprised when people called him by his given name [4], her calling him by his name other than ‘Matsudaira-san’ for the past few months since she moved in… something akin to ‘fluttering’ made its way to his heart, which horrified and puzzled him at the same time.

Was he really that desperate to hear his name from her lips?

He was more deluded than he thought he would be.

The office teasing was getting to him so bad, he was starting to overthink of matters that he should not even be thinking about.

Nishina Sanae was his housekeeper (not officially, but she referred to herself as such), and he was her employer and boss (according to her, anyway); such a setup shouldn’t bring such crazy ideas to his mind.

Yet… it did.

If they were living overseas, he would have been sued for harassment if he dared to make a move… however, in his home country, their current setup was one of those scenarios that people who wrote fiction for a living made millions of yen from. It was absurd, really, how the master of the house would somehow fall for his housekeeper, courtesy of either clumsy writing or a rather believable storyline that got the masses hooked.

Even so, he never did see her as his housekeeper. She did more than just housesit for him whenever he was away at his day job, or when he did his gig late in the evenings that would last until the early morning. Too exhausted to do his chores, which was brought about by his late-night job, she did it all to help around the house in order to, according to her, pay her share of the rent in lieu of monetary payment. While it sounded so sleazy that she was doing almost all the household work, as he had been used to the notion that chores were done on a give and take basis between two individuals living together, she informed him that she was more than happy to do the chores as it distracted her from falling into a mess.

Until now, she was still unable to secure another job to replace the one that had let her go, and was desperately searching for anything that would allow her to earn the exact same rate that her old job gave her.

“After all, I need to have my own place as soon as possible. It’s gonna be awkward if I’m here and you bring a lady over. I’ll be in the way and she might get the wrong idea.”

He resisted rolling his eyes upon hearing her say that. Dating was far from his mind, especially since he was focusing on his side gig, and, at the same time, trying to keep his head afloat with his day job. ‘Exhausting’ was one way to put it, but there was also the matter of his family to keep in mind.

If only his family was normal, they probably would not bat an eyelash over his personal choices, but they weren’t… exactly what the population would call ‘normal’.

Far from it.

“Really?” Oda did not look convinced. “You find him ‘kind’ when he’s forcing you to make him a lunch box everyday for the past few months?”

This fucking guy was seriously going to get stabbed one of these days. If the yakuza wouldn’t do it, he would definitely be first in line to go through with it.

How long would he be in jail if he ‘accidentally’ stabbed this guy?

… And how the hell did he know about the bentou boxes? Did Oda seriously have spies at his workplace?

He made a mental note to be careful from now on.

“No way, it’s not like that!” she said. “I don’t mind making lunches for him!”

How awkward that what he ate for lunch was becoming a point of intrigue in his company. He had hoped that when he started bringing her home-cooked meals, his co-workers would not notice it; it had been barely two minutes since he began eating when one of them did and straight-up asked him if he already knocked up a woman and married her.

At that time, he found the notion ridiculous. He had no time to ‘knock up’ a woman, with the way his schedule worked, and how exhausted he was day after day.

“Whatever you say, man, but if you’re that oblivious with the way your wife puts a lot of effort in that bentou of yours, I won’t be surprised if she finds someone else who would appreciate her more than you ever will and divorce you.”

… Maybe he really was more exhausted than he thought. His brain was giving him stupid ideas from all that romantic-related nonsense his co-workers were telling him.

Death from overwork was a thing [5], and he had to be careful not to tire himself out too much.

But before all of that, first thing’s first: Oda had to go, either as a corpse, or as a living human being.

“Interesting.” the politician was smirking from ear to ear now. “A home-cooked meal, huh… haven’t had one in a long time.”

Just before the blond man could tell him to simply go home and have his own meal prepared by his personal chef, she just had to do the most annoying thing possible.

“If you’d like, I can cook for you sometime.” she volunteered readily.

Motoyasu did not know why, but he was suddenly seeing red, and the fact that he was feeling rather murderous when Oda’s taunts and teasing did not used to affect him was very alarming. Either way, by the looks of it, it was either he ended up ‘accidentally’ stabbing the man or he shoved the guy out of his apartment, all the while acting as cordial as possible while doing said shoving.

As he still had dreams to fulfill, one of which being his side job becoming a full-time job, he opted for the latter, and made a move to close the door. While doing so, he had accidentally hit her hand as he swung his own to grab the door frame.

“Sorry.” he muttered, wondering why his cheeks felt hot all of a sudden at the contact.

“N-no worries…”

Oda Saburou rolled his eyes upon seeing the red-faced woman and shook his head. “Yeah right, you’re totally not married.” he remarked sarcastically.

“I already told you--”

“Whatever you say, I’m leaving.” before he removed his hand on the frame, he winked at the lone female among them. “I’ll take you up on that offer sometime. See you around.”

Motoyasu slammed the door as hard as he possibly could, rattling the shoe cabinets by the door. Upon seeing her wince from the noise, he sighed heavily before heading off to his room.

What a stressful day it was, having to deal with Oda, and now, the possibility of him visiting more often all because his roommate (was that how he should start referring to her?) had volunteered to cook.

Though… there was also that possibility that Oda would invite her over to his place and…

He thought he had suppressed every emotion related to wanting to kill that man decades ago; why was it making a comeback all of a sudden?

“Matsudaira-san, I’m sorry…”

He was so caught up in his rage that he had forgotten that she was still there, trailing behind him.

“... You did nothing wrong.” he said as calmly as he possibly could, despite the rage in his blood. “Go to sleep. And just so you know, I don’t need breakfast tomorrow.”

“You’re clearly angry at me.” she stubbornly pressed on, somehow misinterpreting his request for no breakfast. “Won’t you tell me what I did to offend you?”

As much as he wanted to not deal with this stupidity caused by his inability to control his emotions, she was forcing him to face the problem head on, which was something that he has been avoiding for the past few weeks.

Damn it all.

Damn Oda for taunting him.

Damn her for being so stubborn.

Damn her for being so damn nice that she was willing to cook for just about anyone who asks.

And lastly…

Damn all of his co-workers for making the things that he never thought deeply about turn into a sick fantasy that had been haunting him for months.

He was really going to regret what he would be saying next, but he had no choice. She had to back down before he did something idiotic. “... You did nothing wrong. Ask me again and you'll regret it, I guarantee you.” he threatened.

He should have known by now that she would never be one of those women who listened to him. Rather, she got defiant at times that he wondered how she could get away with that kind of attitude at her workplace… and how he was amazingly able to tolerate all of it.

It was either that, or she only became impertinent while in his presence.

He had half a mind to discipline her, but backed down immediately, knowing that she really was more of a roommate than a housekeeper, and he had no authority over her.

Still… maybe spanking her wouldn't be such a bad idea.

He stopped himself before his mind wandered off to place that shouldn't even be worth considering, yet his mind did, and conjured images it didn’t.

Ugh, this was such a pain in so many different ways, and he was feeling the effects.

“Tell me.”

That fucking did it.

He turned around and glared at her.

“... Don't say I didn't warn you.”

She didn't realize she had followed him to his bedroom until he turned around and gave her a look that told her she was in big trouble.

Why couldn't she had just kept her mouth shut?!

Time and again, her mouth was the very cause of the various problems that ended with her always getting scolded or, worse, fired from her job for ‘insubordination’. While she would rather have a roof over her head for an indefinite period of time until she could pay the deposit for her own apartment, it was still well within her roommate's right to tell her to pack up and leave.

There was always the option of going back home, but she would rather not.

Tokyo was much more fun than her hometown, which was already so overcrowded with tourists.

That, and her roommate was not at all unpleasant to look at.

Not at all.

… Unless he was glaring at her and he was looking like he wanted to pummel her.

She never knew what ‘paralyzing fear’ was until this very moment, when he slammed a hand to the side of her face as she shrieked from the loud noise and found her back pressing against the bedroom door, feeling herself shrink from him looming presence.

Was she seriously that distracted moments ago that she actually closed the door behind her, forgetting that she was not going to clean his room, and was not at all supposed to be in her ‘housekeeper mode’?

Hell, did she just potentially entrap herself in his room?!

A thousand profanities ran through her mind as she felt her heart race in panic.

He was seriously going to punish her.

‘Why did you even do that?!’ her mind screamed at her. ‘Are you seriously asking to be thrown out in the streets? And on winter even!’

She really, really needed to keep her mouth shut from now on.

That, and having the common sense to know what to say and what not to say during certain situations.

Before she could open her mouth to beg for forgiveness, all of a sudden, her peaceful world violently spun away from its orbit.

Oh. My.

The profanities that her mind was shouting nonstop had ceased, and was replaced with… dead silence.

How was she supposed to reach over the fact that her boss, no, her “roommate” was… well… to put it simply, he was pressing his mouth against hers while he leaned closer to her…? While she have had encounters like these, this was one of the only times wherein she did not recoil at the physical closeness of both their lips and their bodies.

It also did not help that he was not at all unattractive. No doubt, there were probably women who have tried to pick him up over at Roppongi in the hopes of getting noticed, but failed to do so. His angelic-like features belied the sarcasm that he kept in check, fooling nearly everyone around him. She, too, had also been a victim, both with lacking the oversight to notice the little devil behind the charming smile, as well as his rather colorful vocabulary.

Underneath it all, however, was an awkward man who had a hard time saying his true feelings. Despite her situation, not once did he force her to clean his apartment in lieu of monetary compensation.

… Was that why she was totally okay with him kissing her…?

She was seriously losing her mind.

The last thing she wanted was to get into some kind of situation that would make everyone, including her, very awkward and uncomfortable.

Roommate, boss… whatever the hell their relationship status is right now, she would rather not get involved with someone like him.

… Well, maybe after a few minutes, she would have the courage to tell him to stop.

This man was seriously too talented with his mouth. It had been a struggle not to moan as he coaxed her with his lips to open up, but as soon as a throaty moan escaped her lips, she felt her face flame in embarrassment.

He pulled away for a bit to take in some air, and she could have sworn she heard him mutter, “Too damn cute…” before kissing her once more. This time around, his hands were slowly making its way down her torso before wrapping his arms around her waist to steady her.

It was now or never.

She found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on the tip of her toes, her tongue slipping within his parted lips.

There was no turning back.

He was such a deluded good-for-nothing maniac.

He was seriously going to get sued for taking advantage of his housekeeper, roommate… whatever the hell their relationship is at this point in time. Not to mention, if she does sue him, he could say goodbye to everything he had worked hard for in the past year, all because of his uncontrollable urges. Embarrassingly, something snapped in him, and… well… she had somehow thought it was a good idea to close the door behind her when she followed him to his room.

Then again, who was he to talk? At first, he thought it would be a good idea to threaten her, jokingly, and look at where it led him.

They were close to making out at this point, with her fingers unbuttoning the dress shirt he wore for work.

Fuck that, he would never see his plain old boring work outfit the same way ever again.

No doubt, his mind would associate his work shirt with the current scenario and…

God help him if he would be unable to concentrate with his day job after this—

Thinking about his day job had snapped him out of his lust-filled thoughts.

This has got to stop, he thought to himself.

Abruptly, he placed his hands on each of her shoulder and slowly pulled away from her.

“S-sorry…” why was he such a wimp, stuttering while apologizing to the person who had been supporting him for the past few months, only for him to suddenly assault her? He was such an awful person, he wouldn’t be surprised if she ran away after everything that had happened.

Hell, even he could not process everything that had happened just now.

“I mean… my apologies, I did not mean… for this to… happen.” he ended lamely, knowing that he had no reason at all for doing what he did, other than him acting like a hormonal teenager.

Before she could say anything, he turned the handle of the door to open it. “... See you around, I guess.”

All of a sudden, he was so looking forward to flying out of the country for a couple of days.

He needed to stay far, far away from her.

The sooner, the better.

He was such a mess, and so was his mind.

 Was he… telling her to leave his room, or his household in general?

As if on auto-pilot, she found herself bowing her head, muttering ‘good night’, and leaving his bedroom. How she had managed to do it so calmly, she would never understand.

It was difficult to think straight immediately after getting kissed as if she mattered, and that he could not get enough of her. Every gesture made her knees unstable that it had really been a good idea for her to hold on to him.

Which was why it had hurt when he told her that he did not mean for it to “happen”.

Just what exactly did he mean by that?

Was he regretting making out with someone like her, a nearly-penniless girl who was both his roommate and his housekeeper…?

She wish he didn’t; she didn’t regret any of it.

… Besides, it had been somewhat a wish come true, at least, for her.

Hell, maybe it was time for her to openly admit the fact that she was thoroughly attracted to the man who had been kind enough to take her in when her whole world came crashing down one day. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was not awful as he made himself out to be, nor she found him unpleasant to deal with.

That, and… well… there was also that one incident that had cemented the whole foundation of her infatuation towards him.

At that point, she was still in denial with regards to her feelings towards him, as she knew that the odds between them actually upgrading their relationship status was rather low. He never really interacted much with her, and vice-versa, as it had been all professional and rarely casual.

… Until that incident.

She had been minding her own business that Saturday morning when something else better than coffee woke the ever living daylights out of her for two days straight: the sight of her naked boss.

At that times, she was busy cleaning the wash basin of his second bathroom when, at the exact same time he exited the bathroom, she happened to catch a glimpse of him from the mirror placed above the very basin she was cleaning.

If there was one thing that she discovered that day, it would be that overworking one’s self was always a bad idea, as it led to poor decisions and judgments, and that the man she was living with was… well…

If she had to be honest, what she saw on the mirror was definitely… impressive.

The very memory of that impressive sight had been forever burned both in her retinas and in her mind.

That had been the very first time she had found out that Matsudaira Motoyasu was a workaholic, as he had been going home very late that week, only for him to crash and burn that Saturday morning. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, she could never decide, but for him to actually admit that he could not remember going into the shower that morning and exiting it as naked as the day he was born and passing out after he put his underclothes on, it was a conundrum, really.

On one hand, he did not know that she had caught a glimpse of him.

On the other hand, that incident had forced her to confront her feelings for him all of a sudden, which had kept her up all night for several nights.

After all, how was it even possible for her to see her ‘boss’ in such an… intimate way? The man had been nothing but forgiving in every sense, even if, at times, she wanted to hit him for his callous remarks about everything.

His sharp tongue aside, it was getting incredibly difficult for her to continue to ignore her growing feelings.

While she had been very good with running away from her problems, now was not the time to be doing such, especially since her current situation afforded her with little to no options of doing so.

The best thing she could do, for now at least, was to act as if nothing happened, and that she was totally not shaken to the core with what had happened.

Yep, that was the best thing she could do with her current predicament.

With him going overseas, that would definitely make it easier for both of them. Some separation time was needed, and she would be glad to have a few days all to herself, as the last thing she wanted was to make a fool out of herself in front of him by becoming too flustered over their interactions.

Hell, she had some growing up to do.

It was just a kiss.

People kissed other people all the time… right?

She grimaced at herself, knowing that it was always a struggle to convince herself to feel the opposite of her true emotions.

The worst.

Notes:

[1]  “Really? Just a housekeeper? Yet she lives with you?” - If there’s one thing that’s odd with this phrase, it’s that it’s extremely rare for Japan households to have a live-in helper. If they do live in the same household, it means that the family that employs them are very rich and can provide lodging and such.

[2] Aichi Prefecture’s First District - good old Wikipedia helped me out on this one. First District includes Naka Ward, which happens to be the area where Oda Nobunaga was born. He was born in Nagoya Castle, by the way.

[3] Then again, he didn’t need fingers if all he did was use his personal seal to stamp everything in approval. - while some transactions in Japan can be completed with simply a signature, some traditional banks require you to use a stamp. Personal seals (私印) are used to complete transactions, and you do need to have one in case they don’t accept signatures.

[4]  Given that his western upbringing had made him immune to getting surprised when people called him by his given name - Calling people by their first name implies closeness that can range from ‘we’ve known each other all our lives’ to ‘s/he is my lover’. Most of the time, that rule applies. There are exceptions to this, as always.

[5]  Death from overwork was a thing - it’s called karoushi (過労死), and it’s very real.

Bonus: as for the title, remember, denial is just a river in Egypt. ;)

Oh wow I actually made it in time for Ieyasu’s birthday this year lmfao Happy Birthday to the Tanuki of Mikawa!

Apologies if my writing was all over the place. I’ve rushed it a bit to make it in time but I hope it was tolerable at least.

Lastly, this is the first of many planned one-shot/s involving modern AU and Tokugawa Ieyasu/Matsudaira Motoyasu x MC. Depending on the reception of this fic, I may or may not expound further.

Once again, thank you for reading!

[letting-them-take-liberties]

Done playing Motoyasu's route for Blossoms of Love, Blooms of Strife

One complaint: inconsistency.

Basically, in When Fate Brought Me Back To You, somehow, MC already gave out the hint that Motoyasu was more than just a guest of the Imagawa, and seemed like a prisoner. [That was not supposed to happen until Part 2.]

Japanese version did nothing like that at all and she was kept in the dark regarding Motoyasu's political hostage situation until Sakai revealed it to her in Blossoms of Love, Blooms of Strife.

As a result, the revelation in SLBP did not have the same impact as the KoiRan/Japanese version, which I found very disappointing.

I know translating is hard and you have to get multiple translators to get the job done, but that seemed like a very bad call to make and it impacted the way the story was presented.

[pseudofaux]

Blossoms of Love, Blooms of Strife, Bosom Heaving: Ieyasu

HEA. VING.

Slightly spoilerish stuff under a cut. But before that: Pls voltage let me see Yoshimoto bite it onscreen, I’d pay more for that than a sexvent epilogue, I’d do it gladly, or at least let Nobu show up so I can rain konpeito on that Imagawa-ending gingersnap LIKE HE DESERVES

merci, pseu

Okay.

Oh my god my lord my baby my bae my daifuku monster my LOVE

HE LIVVVVVES!!!!!!! Glimmer of the cranky tsunsoftie!!!!!!!!!!! I’m fucking ALIIIIIIIVE I think I squeaked when I read that part. BE MEAN TO ME THAT’S 4/5 OF THE WAY YOU LOVE MEEEEE AND. Can we??? Talk????? About SAKAI MUDDAFUGGIN’ TADATSUGU in this ES?!??!??!! I’ll need about five minutes to stop weeping first but I WANNA GET THERE. 😭😭😭

GYAAAAAAAAAH 14/10

[randomhomosapiens]

Shout out to voltage for managing to create a fictionnal character more hateable than people irl. That Yoshimoto could die a hundred time, painfully, I'd still think it's not enough.

[ichigo-daifuku]

Heartstrings

SLBP Fanfiction [Read on AO3]

Tokugawa Ieyasu/MC

A retelling of a classic East Asian legend starring the Archer of Tokai.

Mature | Referenced Abuse and Implied Sexual Content

Part of this story was set in the Another Story Event Series (When Fate Brought Me To You & Blossoms of Love, Blooms of Strife)

Word Count: ~5.4k

Part 1 of 春夏秋冬 | Shunkashūtō

運命の赤い糸 | Red String of Fate

An invisible red thread that connects two people who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance.

Days in Sunpu were mundane for Matsudaira Motoyasu.

In an annex connected by a corridor to the main house, he spent his days in silence. A scroll inked in neat, calculated brushstrokes sealed his routine life in place; every move he made prompted by the Muromachi Shogun and sworn protector of Suruga, Imagawa Yoshimoto.

Motoyasu’s body had gotten used to waking up between six-thirty and eight-thirty in the morning. He would change out of his bedclothes into proper attire, fold his bedding, and wait for breakfast. Although long gone cold upon arrival, he ate his meals quietly. With each dish chosen by Lord Yoshimoto, Motoyasu made sure to finish them all within the allotted schedule. He was allowed to visit the toilet during certain times of the day. He would do so, and in the span of proper minutes, finish his business and return to his room. Most of his hours were spent on comprehending the text he was instructed to read, his posture always perfect—back straight and heels tucked underneath. At times, Lord Yoshimoto would drop by his room in the middle of the day to check on his progress. Motoyasu was used to it. Regardless of the amount of his readings, he finished them all before sunset, just in time for dinner.

Lord Yoshimoto would, on a regular basis, instruct Motoyasu to practice archery in the area close to the annex. Armed with his bow, he shot countless arrows to hone his skills to perfection; one bull's-eye after another. The discovery of Motoyasu’s innate talent for archery seemed to have pleased Lord Yoshimoto. It led to his encouragement of Motoyasu to take up the bow from time and again. After each session, Motoyasu returned to his room and accomplished whatever was next in his daily list.

Although it was rare, Motoyasu was occasionally allowed to go on walks around the city. He would be given a list of errands to run, and then he would return to the residence and report to Lord Yoshimoto.

It was a circumstance similar to that when it happened. That certain afternoon, an even rarer task was given to Motoyasu.

Silver bells tinkled as the annex door revealed the regal purple robes of Lord Yoshimoto. The bittersweet aroma of the outside world slid through the gap as he entered Motoyasu’s space, his footsteps light against the wooden floor. Motoyasu was quick to set the book he had been reading aside to bow and offer his most polite greetings. Lord Yoshimoto smiled and sat down in front of him.

“I have a very special assignment for you, my dear Motoyasu.” Lord Yoshimoto’s expression, as always, was nothing but benevolent as he spoke. “The Imagawa will be welcoming an esteemed guest tonight, a samurai whose alliance would prove to be beneficial for us.”

Motoyasu knew when he was permitted to speak and when he was not. He kept quiet, a smile on his face as he waited for Lord Yoshimoto’s next words.

“I would like to give him a bottle of the finest sake in Sunpu. See to it that you obtain it from any of the places written here.” Lord Yoshimoto pulled a piece of folded parchment from his sleeve and handed it to Motoyasu.

He received the parchment with both of his hands and bowed, “As you wish, Milord Yoshimoto.”

“I trust you will be back on time?”

“Of course, Milord Yoshimoto.”

It was the day of the spring festival. The streets of Sunpu were more crowded than usual, the jovial sound of merrymakers’ laughter all over the place. The vibrant attire of men and women stood out in contrast to the light pink colors that tinted the trees. Children swarmed the stalls to play games in hopes to win a prize while merchants littered the sidelines with a variety of goods such as masks and other trinkets. A wide selection of food was available in the stalls, from seasonal harvests like strawberries to traditional desserts like daifuku. The sweet scent of confectioneries tickled Motoyasu’s nose as as he strolled along the path in his everyday robes, eyes straight ahead and a piece of parchment in his hand. In an unexpected moment, a little boy ran straight towards him. He sidestepped easily, and a cloud of dust seeped through his robes as the child sped past him. He didn’t mind it. No, he didn’t mind it at all.

“Would you like to make a wish to the heavens?” The moment he paused, an old woman approached him, a strip of white paper in her hand outstretched his way. Beyond the streets, torches were lit around the temple where the wishes were to be offered. The blow of horns and ring of bells seemed distant but audible; indications that the performance of sacred rituals were currently underway.

Motoyasu only shook his head in response to the old woman’s question. As the old woman nodded in understanding, he went on his way.

A falconer's bird was never free; it would take flight, only to spin around and return to its master. Motoyasu was at the festival to fulfill the task Lord Yoshimoto gave him, only allowed to be wherever the list told him to go. Even if he was away from the residence, out of Lord Yoshimoto’s sight, Motoyasu’s every move was commanded by the strings suspended above his shoulders, tied firmly around his hands and feet.

He found the festival stall which sold the specific sake Lord Yoshimoto wanted as a present for his guest. The line was long. Motoyasu took his place at the very back. In a matter of seconds, a father and son pair was quick to fall in line after him, and more people arrived to queue. In front of him was a man who reeked the stench of hard liquor. He didn’t mind it. No, he didn’t mind it at all.

Motoyasu waited for his turn. Soon, there was only one more person before he would be able to make his purchase and go back to the residence.

“You’re lucky. This is the last one,” the store owner said as he checked the payment handed to him.

Droplets of saliva fell from the drunken man’s mouth as he guffawed. “It seems the gods have blessed me today, then.”

“Oh, no,” the young boy behind Motoyasu said to his father, “Now we won’t have any souvenir for Old Man Shige.”

“That’s alright, son. We’ll get some at the restaurant before we leave tomorrow.” The father patted the little boy’s back, and the two of them went to a nearby food stall instead.

Their voices faded into the distance as Motoyasu left. There was no use in sticking around when he had a more important task to fulfill. Unlike the father and son, he needed to make his purchase right now. Although his first attempt to acquire a bottle the finest sake in Sunpu was unsuccessful, it was fine. There were still two more places where he could get them. He turned to a corner and unfurled the parchment. Although he knew every word, character, and stroke in it, Motoyasu looked over the list again. He simply cannot afford to make a mistake.

However, his second attempt proved to be as fruitless as the previous. Motoyasu was quick to notice the lack of bottled goods upon his arrival to the next designated place. The line was shorter compared to the first stall. Still, Motoyasu decided to make sure and proceeded to ask the seller about the sake.

“My apologies, young man. You see, since today is the festival, a lot of people wanted to enjoy hanami and yozakura with sake. We sold them out hours ago.” The store owner frowned as if she felt bad for Motoyasu. “How about some dango?” she suggested with a smile and proceeded to hand him a stick. “No need to pay for it, just enjoy the festival.”

Motoyasu glanced at the pink, white, and green dumplings skewered together in the stick, the expression on his face a neutral mask as he shook his head. He was quick to leave after the expression of his refusal. He unfolded the parchment once more in search of the final location he was instructed to visit.

It turned out to be a restaurant on the outskirts of the celebration. Motoyasu was met by a dim establishment; the door seemed to be locked, and although lanterns were lit by the entrance, no one seemed to be inside nor was anyone around the area.

That’s it, Motoyasu thought with a smile. His swollen lower lip that had been split open a few days ago stung at the motion. The fading bruise on his cheek ached at the same time, but there was a strange numbness in his body. The end result will still be the same, Motoyasu echoed in his thoughts. His everyday life was enough proof of the absolute power Lord Yoshimoto's held over him. Even his name, ‘Motoyasu’, had come from Lord Yoshimoto’s own. Although he learned things the hard way, Motoyasu was now a master of it: in every task given to him, the tip of every arrow he would shoot should only hit the target, no more and no less.

The sun had set, and Motoyasu had failed. He clenched his fists on his side, his whitened knuckles hidden by the darkness. He was already resigned to his fate. Tonight, it was a severe beating he would receive. Lord Yoshimoto would take a fistful of his hair and yank him to his feet. “Everything I do, I do for you, Motoyasu,” he would say. Motoyasu’s knees would wobble at the force of Lord Yoshimoto’s cruel hands, but he knew what to do. He would meet Lord Yoshimoto’s gentle eyes with an equally kind smile of his own, and only then would he be released from his grasp. He could already feel the hardness of the wooden floor as he sprawled on it. Eyes would sneak glances at the affair, but it was a common occurrence no one saw. It would be another night where his shoulders would tremble under the thick fabric of his blankets in order to silence himself from an emotion he vowed the light of the world would never see.

Motoyasu turned to make his way back to the residence, empty-handed.

“Your destiny is golden,” a raspy voice said from nearby.

Motoyasu internally scolded himself as he failed to notice the arrival of another person in the area.

There, an old man sat on one of the wooden benches near the restaurant. Although far from the festival, he was dressed in bright, resplendent clothing, and beside him, a woven cloth sack filled with his belongings rested. The book in his hand had a crimson cover, the full moon the old man’s source of light as he read. The haze of smoke that came from the old man’s kiseru on his other hand mingled with the beam of moonlight. Motoyasu could smell the bitter tang of tobacco from where he stood. He didn’t mind it. No, he didn’t mind it at all.

The old man’s eyes were trained on his book as he spoke again, “Many will plant and wait for the perfect opportunity to harvest the strawberries. Even more will knead the rice cake and fill it with the right amount of red bean paste for the fruit. That includes you. You will work for it. You will suffer. But unlike the others, you will know the sweet taste of daifuku.” He took a puff from the kiseru and released the smoke to the skies.

Was the old man pertaining to him? If so, Motoyasu almost wanted to laugh. Strawberry daifuku. He could not remember what the taste of it was like, nor the last time he had one.

Despite Motoyasu’s lack of response, the old man continued, “You are sly, cunning… very intelligent. You will meet many who are similar.” He paused to flip a page in his book. “But unlike them, your destiny is golden.”

With those words, Motoyasu thought that perhaps, the old man was a fortune-teller who swindled money from those who attended the festival. It was unfortunate for him; Motoyasu was not there for such nonsense, nor was he someone easily fooled. He maintained his calm demeanor as he passed by the old man with the aim to go back to the throng of people at the festival, and then to the residence to face his fate. “Pardon me,” Motoyasu said. 

“Takechiyo.”

Motoyasu stopped in his tracks.

Takechiyo. That little boy who loved to eat sweets. That unfortunate little boy. He knew him, the child he was once upon a time, Takechiyo.

Before he could stop himself, the question slipped past his lips, “Pray tell, how did you know that name?” Even at that moment, his words were polite, but the slight knit in his brows broke the image of his nonchalance.

“It is written here in my book,” the old man had the faintest hint of a smile on his lips as he answered, “Matsudaira Motoyasu.”

Motoyasu spun around and faced the old man. His expression was devoid of his smile nor did he have the neutrality he had mastered—it was a look of displeasure no person has ever witnessed in a very long time. There was a moment of silence as Motoyasu kept his composure in check. “Who are you?”

“Me?” The old man took another puff from his kiseru before he continued, “I am just an old man under the moon.”

Motoyasu’s fists were once again clenched on his sides. First, the old man spouted nonsense about the future, and now, it seemed that he—a stranger—had crucial knowledge not only about Motoyasu’s past but also his present. Motoyasu was torn. He was not supposed to listen to the deranged ramblings of this person; it was not something included in his daily list. The task was to purchase the sake and leave. The end. He had already failed in that aspect, and yet, the fact that this stranger knew certain things about himself bothered him to no end.

Motoyasu’s thoughts were interrupted as the old man spoke again, “Did you know that there are strings that bind twin flames?”

Motoyasu didn’t reply. His feet remained rooted on the ground, the old man’s words foreign to his comprehension.

“Right there.” The old man used his kiseru to point at Motoyasu’s hand. “Around your little finger.” He raised the kiseru to his lips to take another puff, the smoke stronger than it was before. “I see a lot of tangles in your string. Would you like to see who is on the other end of it? After all, she is right here.” The old man looked up from his book, eyes finally trained on Motoyasu.

“A twin… flame?” Motoyasu replied, his voice a mere whisper in his incredulity. Would he even wed? As the heir of the Matsudaira clan, perhaps he would have to take a wife. If so, she would surely be a woman chosen by the Imagawa for him; a political marriage. It didn’t matter. At the back of his mind, it seemed the old man might not be a fortune-teller but rather a matchmaker. Still, that didn’t explain why he knew so much about him.

“There.” The old man used his kiseru once more to point at the distance, towards the sidelines of festival. “That girl.”

On the surface, Motoyasu’s blood began to boil. Why was it that the future that he himself was unsure he had was being dictated to him by this stranger? He was tired. The piece of parchment inside his sleeve felt heavy. The only future he had was what waited for him the moment he would step on the grounds of the residence. In a spur of frustration and anger, Motoyasu picked up a pebble and turned towards the direction the old man pointed at. The first thing his eyes zeroed in was the giant cherry tree. It flared his sudden hatred even more. Although there were a number of people from afar, he knew at once which girl the old man pertained to. It was that one—that girl who stood under the tree he despised. The large ribbon on the back of her obi was visible to him even from afar, her kimono embellished with a spring flower he knew so well, its hues the very same as the tree’s petals. The hairpin she wore on the side of her head sparkled under the moonlight. It happened in the span of a second; Motoyasu hurled the pebble towards his target—the hairpin—equipped with the perfect aim and strength of a skilled archer.

But unlike all of the other targets he practiced with, this particular one moved. The girl turned around, and the pebble grazed her forehead. There was a twinge of something inside Motoyasu as he stood there, transfixed. One of her hands was quick to cover her injury, while the other held a short wooden branch against the tree bark in an abrupt motion to steady herself from the unexpected impact. Cherry blossom petals fell around the girl. The moonlight etched every single detail of the scene in his mind in perfect clarity. Motoyasu thought of her as someone who would be as transient as the blooms, his eyes wide and unblinking so as not to miss a second of the strange encounter. 

And she was, transient. In the few seconds that he gazed at her, she had already run away and before he knew it, left more blossoms in her wake. After she had gone, it was as if Motoyasu came to his senses, suddenly aware of suddenly aware of how loud and rapid the beat of his heart had become, how his mouth fell agape, and how his breaths came out in short pants. He spun around, but the old man was nowhere to be seen. There was no book with a crimson cover, nor was there a cloth sack on the wooden bench. The scent of tobacco from the kiseru lingered, the haze still present and on its way to ascend to the heavens. In the place where the mysterious stranger once sat rested a package wrapped in golden silk cloth.

It was a bottle of sake.

Days in Hamamatsu are never mundane for Tokugawa Ieyasu.

For a time, he supposed old habits die hard. He still spent a considerable amount of time holed up in his chambers as he read a stack of various texts. Nonetheless, it is with a purpose; he aims to broaden his knowledge and apply it in the days of battle and in the governance of Mikawa. There is always something new in his quest for the restoration of the land. His retainers are something else as well. Once, he might have thought of them as mere pawns, but things have changed. For the better, he thinks.

Nights in Hamamatsu are… even more interesting, to say the least. Although Ieyasu will never admit it out loud, it is all because of her. The kitchen wench. That girl who always grins like the simpleton that she is. The one who seems to invade his thoughts every second of the day. After that battle in Nagashino, the two of them seem to have developed an inclination towards spending the nights in each other’s company. He eats his breakfast and lunch in the Main Hall, but dinner is always served in his chambers. She excitedly talks about the night’s menu as she sets the lacquered tableware down, the food still warm and fresh from the kitchens. After dinner, Ieyasu begins his choice of nightly readings. She serves him tea and does her own thing, keeping him company while she mends her clothes or writes letters and entries in her journal. Most of the time, the two of them keep to themselves but will have short conversations every now and then.

“Lord Ieyasu, these ink and brushes are great to use. The strokes come out so beautifully. See?”

“Of course, they are mine after all. You know what will happen if you ruin them, don’t you?”

“Right, right,” she replies distractedly, already back to writing whatever it was she was writing.

Some nights, Ieyasu will be engrossed in the book he reads as he buries his nose in it. Unbeknownst to her, the reality is that he steals glances at her from time to time. He finds her focused on whatever she does. Other times, she is already sprawled over the floor, breaths even as she sleeps peacefully. He carries her to his bedding and tucks her in his blanket. He clicks his tongue, a habit he has acquired over the years, only the action is not due to his usual vexation, but because of silent affection for the girl deep in her slumber.

Some nights, she remembers the time and proceeds to go back to her own room. She bids him a good night, and although she tries hard to hide it, Ieyasu notices the slump on her shoulders as she slides the shoji door shut. He hears the faintest of the sighs that escapes her lips as she walks away. As he lays on the bedding and tucks himself with the blanket that carried the slightest hint of her fragrance, he frowns and wonders why.

Some nights, they share a kiss, or two. Maybe another deep kiss that leaves them panting heavily afterwards. How many times have they kissed now? He isn't sure.

Things were simpler then, before that incident in Owari.

The strawberry daifuku, the token of apology she brought for him, is still on the table, yet to be eaten. The last thing Ieyasu expected was for her to be the one to apologize to him. Yet, he should have known. Her words and actions are always genuine. She is kind. If only he could be even just half as honest as her.

Everything happened quickly afterwards. Although the night is still young, it proved to be a night of many firsts already. It was the first time he told her, or anyone for that matter, of his deepest and sincerest feelings. Affection. Adoration. Love. The both of them saw and touched each other in ways neither of them have ever known before. He has never been so close to anyone and he finds that he… doesn't hate it. Not at all.

“You’re all sweaty.” He pats her on the side of her waist. Her eyes fluttered shut and her bare body is above his own, their legs tangled together. She rests her head over his chest, just above his heart. Her arms are draped over him, surrounding him with warmth.

“Hmm…” She makes no move to get off him nor does he do anything to push her away. “You too, Lord Ieyasu.”

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

“I wouldn't dream of it, Milord.”

They are quiet after that. He finds himself touching the strands of her hair and before long, running his fingers through its silkiness. Her forehead is covered with a thin sheen of sweat, and his fingers brush the fringes stuck to her skin aside. That is when he sees it.

“Oi.”

She hums in response. “What is it?”

“Where did you get that?”

“Get what?”

“That scar.”

“Oh.” She opens her eyes as her fingers reach to trace the scar on her forehead, close to her hairline. “It’s a long story.”

Did Yasumasa do this to her? Was it that Sanada Yukimura? Or maybe that fox he kept with him? Whoever it was would pay dearly for it. “Tell me.”

To his surprise, she giggles, her eyes crinkling into a smile. “Okay,” she says and looks far off in the distance. Her body is so close to him, yet her thoughts drifted years back in the past. She begins her story with her younger days, when she had already begun to assist her parents in their restaurant in Kyoto. 

“There was a time when Father, Yahiko, and I went on a trip to help around a restaurant owned by Father’s cousin. He and his wife requested for our help on the day of a festival.” Her index finger absentmindedly strokes his collarbone in languid motions. He shivers under her touch, but she does not notice as she continues her tale. “Of course, I wanted to see the festival, but we were busy with the restaurant. Luckily, it was closed early, just before sunset. Everything was sold out by that time, anyway. Uncle and Aunt were participating in the rites in the shrine, and the three of us were free to enjoy the rest of the evening in the festival. I was so excited.”

Ieyasu listens. There are many things he does not know about her. His fingers once again comb the long strands of her hair. He is busy twirling it around his finger when her next words make his motions come to an abrupt stop.

“It was in a place quite far away from the capital—Suruga. The city was not like Kyoto, but it was still full of life in its own way. The cherry blossoms were beautiful.”

Festival. Suruga. Cherry blossoms. The story is so familiar that he himself drifts years back to the memories of his past.

“I was waiting under a giant cherry tree for Father and Yahiko. They told me they would return with some dango and souvenirs. The last thing I expected was a person jumping down the tree. He appeared so suddenly that come to think of it, he might have been a shinobi.” She laughs. “Anyway, that man gave me a short branch of cherry blossoms, and then… he said something strange.” She pauses in thought, as if she is trying to figure out what the cryptic message meant even if it has been years since she heard it. "'I wish you all the best in your destiny.' That was what the man said. I didn’t understand. Still, I bowed to express my gratitude, but when I raised my head, he was just… gone. I looked around for him and that was when I was struck by something on the forehead. I ran to find Father and Yahiko at once because it stung a lot… and there was blood."

She glances at him, back to the reality of the present. “It was fine, though I started having my hair cut this way. Even if the scar is barely visible, I’ve grown quite fond of wearing it like this.” She gives him a smile that reaches her eyes as she touches the scar that has almost faded. “It’s been such a long time. Father got me my hairpin in one of the stalls at the festival. He told me it would go well with the outfit we rented. I don’t remember much about the kimono's appearance, but I remember that the little me felt pretty when she wore it. Like one of those kimekomi or hina dolls. It had flowers, I think.”

“Hollyhocks,” Ieyasu says, his voice a mere whisper.

“Huh?” She looks towards him in confusion. Illuminated by the glow of the lantern, her eyes are bright, and she is golden.

The intensity of her stare makes him look away. “If you’re so proud of it being pretty and all, then it must have been hollyhocks.”

Her eyes never leaves his profile as she calls out to him, “Lord Ieyasu?”

“What.”

“Does this mean that you think I would look pretty wearing a kimono… with hollyhocks?” she asks, her final word filled with uncertainty and reluctance. From his peripheral vision, he sees her gaze shift to the ceiling.

Ieyasu smiles. For most of his life, there have been many things hidden in it, but it is with her that he can smile truly, happily. “My, my. Aren’t we a little audacious tonight?”

She frowns. “After all we’ve done?” she mumbles under her breath.

“What are we blushing for?” he teases her and tilts his head to get a better view of her face. “You decide to get shy now... after all we’ve done?”

“I-I’m not blushing!” She covers her flushed cheeks with her palms. 

For a moment, he thinks he sees a silken cord around her little finger, but it is gone in a blink of an eye. It didn’t matter to him. He takes her hands in his as he moves to uncover her face. She looks up to him again, eyes wide and innocent, and also full of love. He touches her to prove that she is real, that she exists. She is right there, and she loves him for all he is.

He kisses the scar on her forehead. It seems he had already hurt her before he even knew her. Since they met, he has hurt her many times with his words and actions. The quietest of apologies slips past his lips, and she trembles. She heard it. He would pay dearly for everything he has done to hurt her. Hells, he will do anything for her.

He kisses her eyelids. She had seen the best and worst in him—the real him—not just the Tokugawa Ieyasu he presented to others, and still chose to stay. His lips brush the slight saltiness of her tears. He hated himself for making her cry back in Owari. He never wanted to ever see her cry again, but if it were tears of joy or pleasure, like the ones falling down her cheeks now, then he is willing to make an exception.

He kisses her cheeks. He would pinch them at the most random moments—when she least paid attention or when he wanted to tease her. He loves to do it. After all, she has the best reactions, she gets flustered easily and turns red in a second. He vows that the expression would be for him and no other. Only him.

He kisses her lips. It is where words of kindness, honesty, and love never faltered even at the most difficult moments. He knew no better way to express his affections, no better way to convey the words he had a hard time saying other than through the kisses they share. From the first brush of her lips on his, he was a goner. She never fails to stir these emotions in him, these feelings he never thought he was capable of having. Although he would never admit it out loud, he would not have it any other way.

He was once a little boy who sat inside his room with a book and gazed at the giant cherry tree that bloomed in the back of the garden. He was once an outsider who looked in, even if his feet were planted on the same ground as others. He remembered the cherry blossoms outside the annex. How the blossoms that swayed in the moonlight, free—unlike him. How each petal looked like a mother's tears as she wept for her poor child. But somehow, in the arms of her, the woman who has filled him with love, the memory was not as bitter when he looked back at it now. Those days were remnants of the past. He was a guest no more. Not a gift. Not a prisoner. He has freedom and dignity. He is Ieyasu, Lord of Tokugawa. Still, he found he disliked being ‘Ieyasu’ for the longest time, thinking he was worth nothing, if not for it. It is different now as she calls his name in between their kisses, he is reminded that there is someone who knows him beyond the name. No tricks, no masks, no pretensions. She knows who he truly is and loves him for it. As she cradles his face with the gentlest of touches, he knows there will never be another one for him but her.

The last thing he thinks before the two of them lose themselves in the throes of passionate desire is that he wants to see her, once again, in a kimono adorned with hollyhocks—this time golden and grouped in threes.

Special thanks to my dearest friend and fellow ESL writer, ReverberatingEchoes, for beta reading this work and encouraging me to continue it! I’ve had the general idea for this story since last year but I was initially reluctant to write about SLBP Ieyasu because he’s my favorite character.

There were two East Asian legends intertwined in this work. First was, of course, the tale of the Red String of Fate (運命の赤い糸), which featured the "old man under the moon”. The second one was the tale of the Musubi no Kami (結びの神), the Japanese deity of love and marriage in Shintoism. Aside from those, you may have spotted some other Asian/Japanese culture references as well ★~(◡ω◕✿)

春夏秋冬 | Shunkashūtō [AO3]

lit. spring, summer, autumn, winter

春 || Heartstrings (Tokugawa Ieyasu/MC)

夏 || Sunkissed (Honda Tadakatsu/MC)

秋 || Crossroads (Sakakibara Yasumasa/MC)

| 秋 | Destiny [Crossroads Alternate Ending]

冬 || ???

Ichigo Daifuku's Masterlist

[heavenzfiend]

Fanfic: Alone Again (Tokugawa Ieyasu x MC)- SLBP

Read on AO3

Word count: ~4800

Warning: LEMON. Non-con/dubious consent, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Physical Abuse, Forced Orgasm, Power Play, etc. Don’t read if you’re expecting fluff!

Summary: MC finally seems to be getting closer to the reclusive Lord Motoyasu when Lord Yoshimoto orders them to take each other’s virginity but under his exact instructions. Just how much more control over the boy will it take for him to be satisfied?

Author’s Note: This is a continuation of the Event Story, “Another Story Part 2” for Ieyasu, who is Matsudaira Motoyasu. The first part of the ES really affected me emotionally because of how he was treated by that –insert all the bad words- Yoshimoto but while playing the second part, I got this thought: what if he forces them to sleep together? I can see him doing something like this, just to control more of Ieyasu’s life and to limit more of his freedom, even in terms of love and sex. Anyways, hope you enjoy~

“I’m finished. Thank you for the meal,” Lord Motoyasu says in his usual genial tone.

“I hope you enjoyed what I had prepared for you,” I state, knowing fully well that he did, judging from his empty plates and fast pace of eating.

“I did. I’m grateful as always.”

I clean up the dishes one-by-one with a pleasant smile on my lips as well, happy to know that he is speaking to me with a lot longer phrases as of late. Suddenly, my hands brush against his as they occasionally do when I’m cleaning up. Unlike before when any physical touch made him freeze up, Lord Motoyasu seems to not mind as much nowadays. He allows them to simply slide against each other, my hand feeling the warmth of his for the briefest moments, grateful that he doesn’t pull away in shock or disgust.

I exit the room with almost a skip to my steps, unable to hide the smile plastered to my face. I feel as if I’m finally bringing out the real Lord Motoyasu hidden deep inside his shell molded by Lord Yoshimoto’s rigid control of every fiber of his being. I can’t wait to find out more about him, like what he likes to do if he had free time outside of his reading and archery practice or what he would like to do outside the castle walls if he had a whole day free from his set schedule to do whatever he pleases.

I wonder if one day soon he will even hold my hands. I have to stifle a giggle from escaping. I move down the corridors to the kitchen with my arms heavy, laden with the plate-filled tray, but heart and mind light at peace.

-----------

Just as I’m about to leave the kitchen to retire to my room for the evening, one of the maids accosts me.

“Miss MC, Lord Yoshimoto is asking for you. Please go directly to Lord Motoyasu’s chambers.” I furrow my brows, confusion etched on my face, at her worried tone but the maid quickly leaves after saying that, not giving me any other option but to do as she relayed lest I keep the lord waiting for too long.

As I walk down the corridor my mind is filled with worry at the thought of facing the lord of the castle. A day without having to see him at all is a very good day indeed in my books. Just the thought of him brings a shiver down my back, the purple robes giving a fake illusion of regality when it houses a demon instead.

I announce myself and slide the shoji door slightly after preparing my nerves, noticing that nothing seems to be amiss in the air, notwithstanding the usual awkwardness. This is the first time he has called upon me to Lord Motoyasu’s chambers at this time of night.

I take my usual seat next to Lord Motoyasu, muscles fidgeting from anxiety. I look up to see Lord Yoshimoto smiling at us, his stubby eyebrows reminding me of a chilling ghost from the Heian period.

“I see you still sit so close to dear Motoyasu, how lovely,” his smile growing wider along with my confusion. “You must be wondering why I called you here tonight.” Both Lord Motoyasu and I stare at him to continue.

“As a father-figure to my darling Motoyasu, I want to see all his needs satisfied. You're his chambermaid and if I'm not mistaken you two got quite close lately. You also would do anything to care for Motoyasu, am I right?” he asks with his too perceptive eyes.

“...Of course, Milord.” My heart is pounding so fast in my chest, it threatens to leap out of my body and it almost hurts to breathe.

“Have you laid with a man before?” My eyes grow wide as plates as I stumble for a reply, mortified at the question. I don’t like where this is going but I know I have to answer him.

“N-no...” My cheeks feel warm and eyes nervously fleet around but pointedly avoiding Lord Motoyasu’s general direction. Why, oh why are we talking about this right now?

“Well that's wonderful. You see, my sweet Motoyasu is also a virgin. I think as his chambermaid you should pleasure him and mate with him. How fitting for both of you to have each other's first time,” he says with that sweet, deceiving smile of his that I want to punch right off his face.

Just as Lord Motoyasu finally got comfortable with me, just as we were finally getting closer, Lord Yoshimoto seizes that opportunity to take control of our lives down to the most private matters, dictating when and how we will have sex. I relish our developing friendship and, despite the love I have for Lord Motoyasu, I know things can never be the same after we come together in this sense. I don’t want things to unfold like this, not tonight, not ever, under these circumstances.

“This poor boy has never experienced a woman's touch,” he continues in mock pity. “Don't be troubled about your lack of experience in this matter either. I shall gladly assist you both every step of the way.”

He means to strip the last dignity left on Lord Motoyasu, to let him know that he even dictates when, how and with whom he can have carnal pleasures.

My breath gets caught as if the evil lord shoved a metal ball down my windpipe and constricted my heart by squeezing it in his fist mercilessly, bleeding it out slowly. How crueler can this man get? I'm more worried about the damage this will ultimately do to poor Lord Motoyasu than any physical pain I have to endure by giving my virginity to a man.

“Milord! I… this wasn’t in my job description, surely!” I try to protest rationally but my voice comes out in high-pitched squeaks fueled by my over-wrecked emotions.

“You had consented to look after my boy here and he in return can use you in any way he desires,” turning to Lord Motoyasu, he asks, “and you do desire her, do you not?” His dullish brown eyes search Lord Motoyasu’s.

After a long, excruciating silence, Lord Motoyasu opens his mouth to respond.

“…Lord Yoshimoto, I… I'm not sure if we should…“ Lord Motoyasu’s eyelashes fluttered down with uncertainty, first time showing hesitation to his captor.

Without warning, Lord Yoshimoto slaps Lord Motoyasu across the face so hard that his jaws make a cracking sound as it whips to the side. He suddenly grabs a fistful of his hair, showing no mercy even to such beautiful, golden locks. How can he be so monstrous to something, or someone, that looks so angelic? My heart weeps for him.

“You dare defy me?” Yoshimoto asks, his face an eerie blank sheet, void of emotion.

“Lord Motoyasu!” I can't stand by watching him get hurt, I just can't. If I have to give my body to satisfy one of his whims, I'll do it to save Lord Motoyasu.

I’m kneeling by his body, tears streaming down my face as I beg him to stop. However, my desperate pleas aren't what he's after since the onslaught of abuse continues. Even with the poor boy slumped on the floor, ruthless kicks rain down on him all over his body.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, Lord Motoyasu weakly lets out, “Forgive me, Milord… I seemed to have forgotten my place…” and begins to cough up blood on the floor.

“See to it that you don’t forget again. I gave you an order, not a request. Do not forget, both of you belong to me.” He turns to me and adds, “I expect great things from you, young lady.”

I wonder if we can just pretend we did it and call it a night, but somehow I feel like he will find out if we actually did as he said or not. I wonder what he meant by assisting us? It’d be mortifying if he was listening and providing verbal feedback through the shoji screen.

“Make sure to follow all of my instructions. Come in.” He situates himself near the corner and calls out to someone. Suddenly, two maids appear from outside with a sheet of paper, ink and brush, laying it on a desk in front of the seated lord. “You two are dismissed for now but stay behind the door in case I need something.”

“Yes, Milord.” The two maids exit and I see the outline of their figures behind the shoji. Wait, so Lord Yoshimoto will be in the room with us while the maids will be listening right outside? I look around the room like a frightened rabbit caught in a trap, eyes landing on both men and not quite believing what’s going on. I've never even kissed a boy before but now I'm expected to perform the ultimate act of bonding between a man and a woman under the instructions of a sadistic psycho?

Nothing could have prepared me for the nightmare that is tonight.

“Now, first thing’s first. Kiss.”

Lord Motoyasu pushes off the floor with one arm while the other clutches at his sides. He peers at me with those unreadable, reddish eyes. I don’t want him to move any more than necessary so I scoot closer to him and bring my face very, very close to his. I hear him suck in a breath at my audacity but I have my eyes closed in anticipation so I thankfully cannot see his expression, which seeing it would only further my own embarrassment at the absurdity of our current situation.

Seconds pass by when I feel the gentlest brush of lips that jolt my eyes open. Lord Motoyasu’s face is right in front of me, our noses touching as well as our lips. I quickly shut my eyes again, not wanting to stare into the depths of his eyes from such a close proximity. This is way too intimate. My head whirls at the distinct scent of coppery blood assailing me from his mouth.

He continues to press his lips against mine, holding still. When he finally parts, Lord Yoshimoto’s voice echoes in the silent room, “I didn’t say you can stop.” He quickly mashes our lips back together, almost too fast that our teeth collide and I register a slight bit of pain. He hisses through his lips in pain as well, but it’s gone in an instant and he regains composure. I hear a brush gliding against paper from afar.

“Try tilting your face this way and that. Stick your tongue in her mouth.” Lord Motoyasu attempts to follow all the instructions given exactly as is. His mouth covers mine more fully with his head slightly tilted to the side and I feel something really warm and wet wedging between my lips. I part them slightly as to not deny him access but my whole body is tense. Isn’t kissing supposed to be romantic? I can’t imagine anything less romantic than the moment I’m sharing with him right now, with him shoving his tongue down my throat. My mouth feels thoroughly invaded and uncomfortable.

“Young lady, you need to relax.”

Easier said than done! Although behind my eyes I kick his stupid face repeatedly, I take a deep breath and let my shoulders drop, also loosening my jaws in the process. I don’t know when to take a breath and when to swallow. I feel some of my saliva escaping from the corner of my mouth and I quickly mop it up with my sleeves.

Yup, definitely not romantic.

“Strip.” The command comes out from nowhere that I freeze. Our lips make a smooching noise as he extracts himself away, filling the otherwise quiet night.

“Lord Yoshimoto… C-can we turn the light off?” I suggest in an attempt to save my modesty.

“No.” That’s all he says. What did I even expect? Even in the cover of darkness, my modesty will not be salvaged. After this night, the whole castle will come to know of me as Lord Motoyasu’s plaything. A broken marionette. A whore.

Seconds pass by without either of us actually performing the command when the voice from the corner says, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

We both bashfully look down at our clothes, not wanting to face each other unless absolutely necessary. With trembling hands, I tug at my obi strings and belt, then slide one arm at a time out of my robes. I hear similar rustling of clothes in front of me but I don’t dare look up quite yet. I continue to disrobe all my articles of clothing until they are pooled at my feet and I am standing stark naked in the middle of the room with my hands cupping my private areas in an attempt to hide as much as I can. I know I won’t be able to for too long but just standing there with my hands to my sides is unthinkable.

“My goodness, just look at you two fools just standing there. Go on, touch each other.” Our eyes both look up at the same time and his face and chest are both so red that I would find it quite endearing if we weren’t in this ridiculous situation and I’m not equally as red, but alas that’s not the case. We both hold each other’s eyes not daring to break it lest we see too much of the other person. Never seeing a man’s body before, aside from Yahiko but he doesn’t count since he’s not even a fully grown man, the curiosity and anticipation is killing me but I don’t want to do anything too rash to startle him so I keep my eyes focused solely on his face.

But eventually Lord Motoyasu’s eyes flicker down my body, slowly drifting from my neck, collarbones, my left breast then my right one, each place he looks at burning hotter at the sensation of his eyes. And then he looks at the apex of my thighs and my toes curl at the scrutiny. Despite my hand attempting to cover the general area, I’m sure he can still see the dark hairs peeking through and I just wish I could die at this moment so I don’t have to be subjected to this any longer.

“...Milord, where exactly do you mean by... touch?” The uncertainty in Lord Motoyasu’s voice is followed by a chuckle from the seated lord.

“Wherever you want. All over.”

With the sudden freedom that came with that response, Lord Motoyasu’s eyes slightly widen like a kid at a confectioner’s store and the maroon in his eyes become a shade darker. I don’t think he’s ever touched a girl before so he must be a tad excited. I try to relax and let him do what he wants, chanting to myself, ‘It’s just Lord Motoyasu. It’s just him touching you. You actually like him, so it’ll be okay.’

His hands reach out to tentatively touch my hair, rubbing his thumb and forefinger on some strands, as if he’s amazed how flowy they are. I suppose he’s never got to touch long hair before since Lord Yoshimoto probably has someone cut his hair tidy at a set schedule.

Next, he traces his fingers down my neck, gently wrapping his large hand around my neck. I’m scared for a second, wondering if he will strangle me but he is nothing but gentle in his touches as he ventures onwards. His fingertips ghost at my collarbones and a short gasp escapes me as goosebumps appear all over my body.

His actions stop and I see him looking at my chest.

“...Can I?” He whispers, eyes searching mine. He doesn’t have to ask permission since the lord commanded it but I’m thankful that the sweet Lord Motoyasu still lets me believe I have some semblance of control in all this.

“...Yes,” I breathe out, barely audible.

The warmth in his eyes become even gentler as he puts his whole palms against my breasts. He sucks in a breath as if he can’t believe how they feel as he cups them and squeezes them with his hands. Then he almost studies my body, so different from his own, scratching my nipples to attention first then methodically twisting and pinching the tautness. I wish they weren't so pointy and erect.

Just as I’m about to get lost in the sensations he produces, the unwelcomed demon speaks.

“Bury your face on her breasts and suck on her like you’re her child. Surely it should come naturally to you as you’ve never had a proper mother to suckle from. Imagine there’s milk flowing from her. Drink her up.”

Cruel words from a cruel man.

Lord Motoyasu looks so conflicted that I feel so sorry for him, despite myself being used as well.

I stand up a little straight, attempting to make myself taller so he can get down to snuggle against my bosom. He must see that as an invitation as he nuzzles his face against my soft flesh and then pops a nipple into his mouth. I gasp at the sensation that I’ve never experienced before. It almost feels too much yet not enough at the same time. The feeling of bonding to this person is so strong. I don’t know what happened with his mother but if I can give even a small amount of comfort to his broken soul, I will be more than willing to let him use my body.

I can smell his scent from his hair and as if they are beckoning me to them, I can’t help but run my hands through them. A small, broken noise that almost sounds like a sob comes from him, as he moves his mouth in a sucking motion. My one hand pats his back reassuringly as my other hand gently caresses his hair.

I finally get the chance to fully take in his body and register that he is naked and so close to me. I can feel the muscles and sinew on his lean arms while he holds my sides firmly. His chest and upper body are generally strong-looking, which then lead down to the wisp of a waist. He’s not overly muscular but his daily archery practice definitely defined his shoulders and upper back so that first impressions wouldn’t show how much of an overall sedentary life he leads.

After quite some time passed of him simply being in my arms, we both relax into a steady rhythm, in sync in both breaths and heartbeats.

“Touch her. Make her come.”

I inhale a huge gulp of air which leads to uncontrollable coughing. Lord Motoyasu eases himself away from me as I gain control of my breathing once more.

No! Where does he even get these ideas from? I don't want to show him my pleasure. Just how could he expect me to achieve orgasm in a situation like this, with hatred for him circulating my entire body? He must be thoroughly enjoying this, the sadistic bastard, watching both of us struggling to fulfill his every demand as he showcases his power over us like puppets on strings for his amusement.

“Milord! I can’t possibly!” I nearly shout.

“You will. We have all night.” That scares me, the thought that he probably is being serious, that this could well last the entire night if he so desires. Shouldn’t the lord of the castle have better things to do than observe two young people having sex, against their will might I add?

I wish he would just be satisfied with Lord Motoyasu putting his thing in me so I can crawl back to my room and pretend this night never happened. But I have to do this. I have to do this for Lord Motoyasu’s sake, as well as mine.

Lord Motoyasu inches closer and right before gently pushing me to the ground, discreetly whispers, “...Perhaps you can pretend to achieve satisfaction?” Even before my mind gets to process what those words mean, I hear the amusement.

“Don’t be so daft as to think I don’t know what you’re up to. I will know.”

All hope is lost as I willingly subject to his touch, stiff as a log with my back on the floor and legs stretched out. Lord Motoyasu looks lost as if he has no idea how to ‘make me come.’

Not wanting to be here anymore than necessary, I reach out and take his hand in mine, guiding his middle finger to my slit. I slide it up and down where it easily traverses due to the amount of fluid in the area. His eyes widen and mouth open in fascination at the feeling of a woman’s heat.

I mostly guide him along my clit, where I find the most amount of pleasure based on personal exploration. I focus all my concentration on finding release, desperate to get it over with. I squeeze my eyes shut. If I close my eyes, if I focus solely on the warmth of his touch, the scent of his masculinity and breath close to me it almost feels like we are two normal lovers sharing an intimate moment.

Just when I feel so close, his finger tease at my opening, prompting my eyes to open. And just as unexpectedly, Lord Motoyasu gives me the sweetest kiss on my forehead and the emotional connection pushes me over the edge. I give an uncontrollable cry as my lower body twitches, squeezing his fingers which have found their way inside out of curiosity.

Lost in the throes of passion, I hazily open my eyes but they accidentally land on Lord Yoshimoto, his languid brushstrokes gliding on the parchment, writing whatever cruel words to use against him later, to further humiliate and control his life. It is the equivalent of being doused over the head by an ice bucket as my body goes rigid again despite my inner walls still tingling from release.

The tears well up in me in shame when my body stops convulsing, the feeling of emptiness so consuming that I want to curl up and hide.

“Now, deflower her. But take care not to spill your filthy Matsudaira seeds inside her. We wouldn't want to burden my hospitality even further by having your pathetic, useless spawn here with us to waste my resources, now do we? I'm sure you wouldn't want him to know how stupid and a waste of space his father truly is.”

Lord Motoyasu’s crimson eyes flare in rage, so full of raw emotion normally concealed that it bores into my soul, forever imprinted. However, it was a fleeting emotion, gone just as fast as it arrived.

He clutches my thighs with his strong hands, forcing them apart wider when my instincts naturally attempt to close them together without meaning to. I bring both my hands up to hide my face, unable to see how he must view me now with my legs spread like a frog, such wantonness on display.

With his hands on either side of my hips, he pokes me down there with something hard and warm. I’m too frightened to even look at it so I continue to hide my face behind my hands. He nudges his tip into the wrong hole and I freeze in panic. He begins to push when I scream, “Ahhh! Lord Motoyasu! N-no that's not-!”

Lord Motoyasu embarrassedly apologizes while readjusting and I hear a burst of laughter from the only one who's having a time of their life right now at our expense. Lord Motoyasu continues to struggle to find my entrance, slipping down or poking at the wrong hole again and again.

All of a sudden, I can feel searing warmth as something smooth and thick is finally placed right along my opening, pushing in bit by bit.

I thought I was ready, but nothing could've prepared me for the pure pain that follows the pressure of his body fitting against mine. A strangled noise escapes me as I struggle to keep from writhing, my body desperately fighting to reject the foreign invasion. The impulse to push him away is so great that I have to constantly remind myself to just endure it.

I forgot how to breathe. I'm holding my breath without intending to and my whole body is on edge from tension, abdomen clenched and fingernails indenting deeply into my palms that it might draw blood. I thought it would be okay. I thought as long as it's Lord Motoyasu I would be able to endure the pain willingly. But it just hurts so damn much.

“It hurts… it hurts…” I say through the spurts of breath I manage to exhale while looking up at him. I can feel tiny beads of liquid forming from the corner of my eyes.

How can anyone find this act pleasurable?

“Forgive me… I’ll… be fast...” he says but he soon moves against me like a rabid animal, filling in and out of my hole.

“Ahhhhhh!” I scream into the night, unable to care about the rest of the castle hearing me. The initial shock and pain soon dissipates and is replaced by an achiness. His body seems to move on its own in a fervor.

The constant slap, slap of skin meeting skin, squelch, squelch of fluid meeting fluid fills the air.

It's as if I can feel Lord Motoyasu deep inside me in a place no one else has ever known me, filling me so fully that it feels like I've been empty my whole life without my knowing, waiting to be filled by him.

Am I strange to want this night to end but this intimate moment with him to last longer?

Just as Lord Motoyasu increases the frequency of his pumps and huffs sporadically, a voice sounds from the corner, “Don't come yet.” But it was a cruel command, seeing as his ecstasy was already forthcoming.

In an act of defiance or not enough control, he releases his seeds inside me. I’m unable to tell what it was but I’m happy to have something of his inside me, though not everlasting.

Lord Yoshimoto observes the whole affair with an almost pleased glimmer in his facade, as if everything had gone according to his plans down to the last moments. He patiently waits until we both calmed and then casually walks over to me, throwing my robe at my face where it stings from the slap of the fabric.

“If you can’t even control your own body, how do you expect to control all of Japan, let alone your retainers?” He isn’t even looking at me as he spits venom at Lord Motoyasu’s naked body.

“You think you can get away with not following my directions? How foolish of you.” I'm scrambling to dress, only managing to get my robe draped around my shoulders when his next words sting far more than the physical pain I endured.

“As punishment, it's only fair to take away something important to you, don't you agree?” he grabs my forearms to yank me to my feet and heads to the door with me dragging behind him, half naked with the robes flapping open in the front without an obi to secure it.

“MC will be attending to me as my personal page from now on. Other maids will bring your meals like before her arrival at our castle. You're not permitted to see her anymore.”

A gasp escapes me but I'm being manhandled so forcefully and hastily to the point where I cannot form words of rebuttal as I desperately try to close the robe with one hand without success, mixture of blood and fluids from both our bodies sliding down my legs.

No! I don't want to leave Lord Motoyasu’s side! Just as we were getting closer, Lord Yoshimoto is tearing us apart just like how he did with family and retainers of Matsudaira.

I’ll find a way to see you again, Lord Motoyasu!

I turn my head while being dragged off, desperately trying to catch sight of him. The brief glimpse of Lord Motoyasu that I was able to get will forever be imprinted on my mind— the image of him naked on his knees looking dejectedly down at the floor, covered with both of our blood, and what seemed to be a single tear sliding down his cheek, all alone.

Author’s Note: …Who wants to kill Yoshimoto with me? I was in a confusing state of sad and aroused while writing this… Is that even possible?! Thanks for reading! :) Please let me know what you think!

Tagging: Not sure who to tag... @rubyleeray @pseudofaux @kawa-akarin @dani677 @julias1993

[mikawa-province]

The Nile 2 [preview]

I’m still alive y’all

One of these days, he was going to jail for finally snapping over Oda's high-handedness… but knew that losing it wasn't worth throwing away his dream job. Compared to the others, he was still relatively new, and had a hard time trying to stand out. The industry he was trying to break through was notorious in a sense that out of a hundred, only one became a pro in the field.

Shame on him if he would mess things up just because Oda's high-handed ways couldn't be dealt with.

And so, he replied to the politician's message with a simple ‘Fine’ before sending a message to his roommate to let her know that Oda was expecting his promised lunch in the coming days.

To his annoyance, she replied with a rather enthusiastic sticker that gave him the impression that she was looking forward to it.

… The hell did he care anyway? She could damn well cook for anyone she wanted, it wasn't as if he had any say in what his roommate did.

As long as she was not part of any yakuza-affiliated group and she did not use his place for any illegal activities, she was free to do whatever she wanted.

… Though admittedly, looking back, he still could not decide whether or not it had been a wise idea to tell her to treat his place as if it were her own.

No amount of distraction nor working to the point of exhaustion could remove the sight he had seen after he got back from his business trip, especially when one of the things he wanted to forget happen to be his bed.

His bed, of all things.

How was he to know that she would dare sleep on his bed while he was away?

[mikawa-province]

[Modern AU] Fic Preview # 1

Oh hey, ‘sup.

It’s been a while since I posted anything, but I have a new fic in the works, and it’s *gasp* a modern AU fic, set in modern-day Tokyo, Japan.

It’s gonna take a while for this fic to be posted, as I have to do more than just worldbuilding.

As always, if it doesn’t make sense right now, it will be after I post the whole thing.

For the meantime, I hope this is enough to tide you all over until the whole one-shot gets posted.

Enjoy!

“Huh, never realize you'd be the type to cohabit with a woman, Motoyasu. Or is she your wife, as the rumors say?” came the familiar drawl that made him want to cringe openly.

Was there any law protecting citizens from getting sued if he slammed the door and claimed that any injury that resulted from said action was simply an ‘accident’? His unwanted guest’s fingers were on the door frame, the most perfect spot for what he was planning, and he was so very tempted to close the door with as much force as he could muster. That should be enough to get his point across.

Then again, no matter how much he tried, Oda Saburou never bothered listening to him.

That, and the man was such a huge gossip, nothing escaped his notice and his hearing.

As expected of a politician, Motoyasu thought to himself before donning a poker-faced expression.

“She’s neither. The woman is my housekeeper.” while he did not want Oda to know what she was to him, he figured that telling the truth would be enough to satisfy the other man’s curiosity.

Oda, unfortunately, did not thinking that was all there was to the story and pressed on. “Really? Just a housekeeper? Yet she lives with you?”

He felt his eyes glare at the direction of the shrewd. “The arrangement I have with her is none of your business.”

Motoyasu wished that this scenario had never happened. It was one thing for Oda to confront him about this… unusual setup without her within earshot, but with her standing by the doorway beside him… this was the worst. Not only because it did not make sense that member of the National Diet was visiting him on a whim, but Oda was being too persistent with his questioning and seemed way too interested and invested with his personal life.

“... Can you leave? I’m preparing for a business trip-” before he could tell the man to fuck off and get lost, Oda held out a hand at her and winked!

To his own surprise and anger, she blushed.

Blushed.

Fucking hell.

[mikawa-province]

[Modern AU] Fic Preview # 2

Preview # 1

“A home-cooked meal, huh… haven’t had one in a long time.”

Just before the blond man could tell him to go home and have his own meal prepared to him by his staff, she just had to do the most annoying thing possible.

“If you’d like, I can cook for you sometime.”

Motoyasu did not know why, but he was suddenly seeing red, and the fact that he was feeling rather murderous when Oda’s taunts and teasing did not used to affect him so alarmed him. Either way, it was either he ended up ‘accidentally’ stabbing the man or he shoved the guy out of his apartment, all the while acting as cordial as possible while doing said shoving.

As he still had dreams to fulfill, one of which being his side job becoming a full-time job, he opted for the latter, and made a move to close the door. While doing so, he had accidentally touched her hand as he swung his own to grab the door frame.

“Sorry.” he muttered, wondering why his cheeks felt hot all of a sudden.

“N-no worries…” she replied softly.

Oda Saburou rolled his eyes upon seeing the red-faced woman who was totally Matsudaira Motoyasu’s housekeeper in name and shrugged. “Yeah, okay, you’re totally not married.” he remarked sarcastically.

“I already told you--”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’m leaving.” before he removed his hand on the frame, he winked againat the lone female among them. “I’ll take you up on that offer. See you around.”

Motoyasu slammed the door as hard as he possibly could, rattling the shoe cabinets by the door. Upon seeing her wince from the noise, he sighed before heading off to his room.

What a stressful day it was, having to deal with Oda, and now, the possibility of him visiting more often all because his roommate (was that how he should start referring to her?) had volunteered to cook.

Though… there was also that possibility that Oda would invite her over to his place and…

He thought he had suppressed every emotion related to wanting to kill that man decades ago; why was it making a comeback now?

[letting-them-take-liberties]

Matsudaira Motoyasu: Kimi to Deau Kisetsu (Our Chance Encounter) [translation] - Part 2

Notes under the cut.

The most obvious reason: this is a fan translation.

Translation mistakes are mine; however, I try my best to be as accurate as possible.

Again, this is not an official translation; it’s a fan translation.

Continuation from this post.

A catering order came in at my family's small restaurant in the capital.

As we want the customers to feel our hospitality, for this instance, I opted to use the highest quality ingredients for the order, and brought it over to the customer's mansion.

... Just need to clean up, then I can go home.

Preparing myself to go home, to my surprise, a servant from the mansion came over to the kitchens.

"Excuse me, but will you please go with me for awhile?"

"Oh, of course."

I wonder what happened?

The servant led me to the mansion’s main hall, and upon entering, I noticed someone sitting in the place of honor.

"I have brought her."

"Pardon my intrusion."

"..."

Upon closer look, the person in the room had a relax smile. Clad in an aristocratic clothing, he seemed to have that dignified air about.

"Would you happen to be the one to have prepared that meal?"

"Yes, it was I."

What do I do...? Did something happen...?

As I ponder nervously upon what may have happened, the man's smile deepened.

"I am intrigued by your skill in cooking."

... Huh?

“The dish you have prepared was of the highest quality. Despite it having a rich flavor, the dish blended well with the sauce. The combination platter was also perfect. Each platter’s elegance and tastiness… I pursued you in order to get my hands on the best cuisine there is.”

“T-thank you.”

Surprised that the man praised my cooking, I respectfully bowed my head. Relieved that I was not reprimanded, I raised my head while the man kept smiling and said, "Come with me to Sunpu.

“I am the Suruga Governor of the Muromachi Shogunate, Imagawa Yoshimoto, and I would like for you to showcase your skills, as well as promulgate dishes from the capital in my utopia, Sunpu."

In an instant, I was unable to comprehend what he was saying. My mind blanked out.

Does this mean I will be working for a great man who has connections to the shogunate?

“It’s rather sudden, but I hope you’ll be able to make the necessary preparations. I will fetch you at a later date.”

Imagawa-sama, accompanied by his servants, left the hall, leaving me feeling overwhelmed and confused.

MC just met Motoyasu/Ieyasu’s worst nightmare. 

[mikawa-province]

Quirk of Fate

Title: Quirk of Fate Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad: Party/Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran: Love Ballad Pairing: Matsudaira Motoyasu x MC → Tokugawa Ieyasu x MC Rating: PG-13 Word Count (MS Word): 500

合縁奇縁（あいえんきえん）[aienkien] (n) a chance encounter between two people brought together by fate.

Notes at the end.

Idling made him think about the most mundane things in life, as he was currently stuck in a rain storm while out on errands. While he wore a straw hat that shielded both his head and his face from the rain, his clothes were another story; he was soaked to the bone, the fabric clinging unto his skin.

Trust Imagawa to send me out to do errands during a typhoon, in the hopes that I would get sick and die, Matsudaira Motoyasu thought darkly to himself.

As he waited for the rain to die down, the idle time he spent in the wooden shelter made him think about the small dagger that was currently concealed in his robes.

The blade will bring you good luck.

Some luck it was, he thought bitterly as he glanced upon the blade he took out from the sleeve of his uwagi. The blade was said to have brought good luck to those who wielded it, something that Sakai Tadatsugu had handed to him before they set off to Sunpu in order to become the hostage of the Imagawa, effectively vassalizing the Matsudaira clan of Mikawa.

As a child who believed in the good of everything around him, he had hoped that, as Sakai had said, the blade would bring him good luck during his time under Imagawa’s roof.

A decade or so under the Imagawa, as he grew up and became more and more jaded, he knew that the useless old thing brought him nothing but bad luck.

What hope did someone like him had for the future when Imagawa was a force to be reckoned with? He was too powerful and influential for his own good, and with the alliance he had with the Takeda and the Hojo, Motoyasu knew he stood no chance, even if he tried to start a rebellion.

This useless thing has to go.

Vaguely, he remembered another advice that Sakai gave him on the day he was to enter the gates of Sunpu Castle.

Live for the day you will meet your future bride; you will pass on that blade to her, who will then pass it on to your son.

What rubbish.

He had no future the moment he became the hostage of the Imagawa.

Absent-mindedly, he took note of the other person with whom he was sharing the shelter with; like him, the wench was drenched from head to toe. Upon noticing his gaze on her, she looked back at him, though she stiffened upon seeing the weapon on his hands.

Suddenly, an idea hit him.

I have no use for this anymore, he said to himself as he gripped the small sword in his hands.

Maybe if he got rid of this sword, his fortune would turn around for the better.

Turning to his right, he asked the person beside him, “You’re an eyesore to look at, but maybe if you sell this blade, you’d have money to look better and even earn some coins.”

Another series, but this time, each chapter will be exactly 500 words long.

The theme for this fic was chosen carefully after a bit of research. You see, I wanted to go with this rather cliche yet applicable concept called ‘ichigo ichie’ (once in a lifetime encounter). However, that would mean two people would only meet once, the encounter changing them in one way or the other, yet never to see one another ever again.

However, if the supposed ‘chance encounter’ happens again, wouldn’t that mean they were bound together by a mysterious force called ‘fate’?

With that,  「合縁奇縁」 was chosen.

「合縁奇縁」(aienkien) does not necessarily connote romance, but more often than not, romance is involved because of the kanji ‘en’ (縁). The composition of the kanji itself points to ‘connection’/’relation’/’fate’/’affinity’/’ties’. Interestingly, the left part of the kanji (糸) means ‘string’ in Japanese, and anyone who knows the concept of ‘Red String of Fate’ probably knows that the term in Japanese is called ‘Akai Ito’ (red string).

I hope that my explanation wasn’t confusing. If it was, please feel free to ask me any question.

With that, I hope you’ll enjoy this new series!

[mikawa-province]

Bittersweet

Title: Bittersweet Fandom: Samurai Love Ballad: Party/Tenka Touitsu Koi no Ran: Love Ballad Pairing: Matsudaira Motoyasu x MC Rating: PG-13 Word Count (MS Word): 4,037

悲喜交々・悲喜交交 （ひきこもごも） [hikikomogomo]   (n) having mingled feelings of joy and sorrow; joy and sorrow alternating in one's heart; bitter-sweet

Takes place after the events of Ransei ni Mebaeru Koi (Love Blooming In Turbulent Times) Story Event and the Epilogue.

For the first time since he had become a hostage of Imagawa Yoshimoto, Matsudaira Motoyasu found himself being unable to concentrate on the book he was reading. The Art of War was a brilliant masterpiece that had him engrossed with for the past few days… until now, that is.

As to why he was feeling this way, he had been pondering about it for the past few days, to no avail. It had been easy to figure out physical illnesses despite the fact that he only knew of it through the books he read, most of it forced upon him by Imagawa. This time around, he could not pinpoint the sickness he was experiencing through the symptoms that persisted, which had been either of the two: he could not fall asleep as easily as he wanted to, as he felt uneasy over whatever it was that plagued his mind, or he could not concentrate on the reading, a hobby that he enjoyed the most.

Motoyasu was just about to turn the pages of the book and skip ahead to the next chapter when a voice called out from his door.

“Motoyasu-sama?”

He felt the book slip through his fingers, and he cursed inwardly, wondering why he had turned clumsy all of a sudden. As he retrieved the book that tumbled down his lap, the sliding door opened, and in came the woman who had been his personal servant of sorts for the past few months. In all honesty, he had no idea what Imagawa was thinking in hiring this wench from wherever just to serve him, but if it kept the Kyoto noble-wannabe preoccupied with other matters, he would rather the wench fuss over him instead.

“Good afternoon, Motoyasu-sama.” She bowed at him. “I am not sure if you are hungry at this time of day, but I have thought to bring you some tea and desserts.”

If there was one thing she was good at, it would be serving him meals. Admittedly, the wench could cook, and the daifuku she had served him days ago was something that he could tolerate at least, though it had actually bothered him that she knew about his weakness for azuki desserts from Sakai.

For the old man to actually tell her, a complete stranger, about his preferences… he did not know whether to be angry or to be grateful.

Despite her serving him for a fairly long time, he still did not trust her not to turn against him.

As she set down the tea and the plate containing four pieces of daifuku, he pondered on whether he should dig in or not. While he had eaten the sweets she made for him previously, how was he to know that this batch had not been poisoned?

If I die, then all the blame falls on her.

Reaching for one of the sweets on the plate, he bit into it, only to find the sides of his mouth dripping with whatever fruit he bit into. Despite the alarm he was feeling within at the possibility that it was poison, he calmly checked the daifuku he bit into, and was surprised to find strawberry inside.

“… And what’s this?”

He may have sounded harsher than he had intended, for she paled in an instant. “I-I had thought to match fruits with daifuku, as we had some strawberries that came in today. I wanted to balance out the sweetness of the red bean with the fruit but if it does not please you, I can throw it out for you, Motoyasu-sama.”

Cautiously, he chewed on the dessert, and to his surprise, his palate had actually managed to taste the balance that she had told him about. Sometimes, too much red bean could make him feel like he would swear it off for all eternity, but pairing it up with strawberries… who knew it would taste delicious?

Just when she was about to reach out and remove the offending plate, he held up a hand to stop her from grabbing it. “Leave it.”

“B-but…”

“It’s fine. Leave it.” He repeated, keeping his tone as neutral as possible, as not to let her know how he felt over her serving something new.

… Though now he wondered how he was to convey to her that he would rather that she serve these… fruit daifuku instead of the plain old daifuku that only had red beans in it. He would rather not say anything openly and directly if he could help it, though some nights ago, he had been forced to, as he was both physically and mentally exhausted, to the point that his stomach did all the talking for him by growling loudly. It had taken several times for him to tell her that she bring him some food, and twice, he had nearly given himself away, his former self emerging during his exhaustion.

Sometimes, he wished that she was a mind reader, so that she would be able to know what it was that he wanted to eat.

That, at least, would make things easier on his end.

He had wanted to savor the dessert along with the tea that she prepared, but with her staring at him and waiting for word to remove the plate at any minute, it had been difficult for him to take his time and eat. In the end, Motoyasu found himself eating the desserts as fast as possible, all the while burning his tongue as he drank the piping hot green tea.

“Was… was it to your liking, Motoyasu-sama?”

Motoyasu was torn between telling her his usual response, which was to announce that he was done eating, going as far as pretending that it was only ‘fine’, and from not saying anything. Truth is, he had no words for what he had eaten, other than to praise it, something that he knew would be out of character for him if he suddenly decided to say that he liked what she had made.

On the other hand, if he did not let her know that he loved what she made, there was the risk of eating only plain old daifuku from this day forward.

In the end, he decided to say nothing, focusing instead on picking up where he left off while he was reading, ignoring her. He spied her from the corner of his eye as she took the empty plate and cup from the desk, placed it on her tray, bowed, and exited the room.

Strangely, he felt horrible over the fact that he stonewalled her, but knew that what he did was for the best… at least, that was what he told himself as he read the sentence of a paragraph that he started on over and over again, seemingly unable to digest the information that he was reading.

Several minutes later, he gave up and proceeded to shove the book towards his unread book pile and laid down on the tatami, sighing.

What was wrong with him lately?

Several days later, he found himself getting really agitated at the fact that she had stopped visiting his room to deliver afternoon snacks. While she would check up on him to ask if he needed anything, something that he usually ignored instead of giving a negative response, he was more concerned with himself that he was making a fuss over her mere absence.

She still brought him his meals, sat down beside him, asked him if it was to his taste (it usually was), then took it away after he was done. What unsettled him more was the fact that she didn’t try to ask him anymore if he wanted to eat anything else than what she had served him.

Years of being a hostage has left him used to the feeling of being ignored and overlooked, as he would see a female servant six times a day to both bring and take away his tray. Now, however, he felt as if she had abandoned him in favor of something, or even someone else… and he wondered if Imagawa had assigned her to take care of some guest in the main house.

This led him to wonder if she was now using her skills to cook for that guest… and if she was favoring the other person over him, a prisoner who was stuck in Sunpu, when he should be back in his place of birth in Mikawa and ruling over his domain.

He had been on his own for several years, and yet, why was it only this time that he craved for company…?

And why was he concerning himself with whatever it was that she did that was unrelated to him?

She could go and do whatever she wanted to do for all he cared… not that he was curious about what she did in her spare time.

He definitely did not need to concern himself with her.

A week had past, and he was, to his horror, feeling himself having a withdrawal of sorts towards red-bean based sweets.

Just when he thought he had managed to overcome his weaknesses and had been able to control his emotions, a mere girl had managed to wreak havoc on his self-control with mere desserts.

If it really had been Sakai who had told her about his particular fondness for sweets, he vowed to turn him bald and—

“Motoyasu-sama? May I come in?”

He felt his eyes widen upon feeling the beating of his heart quicken at the sound of her voice, and it took more than just a lot of chanting inside him to keep calm and not give anything away. While he had also perfected putting a smile on his face to hide his true emotions and intentions, for some reason, he was unable to do so as the panic began to spread throughout his whole being. In the end, with his shaky hand, he picked up a book from a pile that he had already finished and pretended to start reading.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing you during your afternoon reading, Motoyasu-sama.”

He wasn’t sure if he was calm enough to look up from the book he was ‘reading’, but when he did, it had been difficult to keep his expression neutral upon seeing what it was that she had on the tray in her hands.

The very thing he was craving for was sitting on a plate, and there were a total of eight pieces of daifuku.

“I was unsure if you wanted an afternoon snack, but I went ahead and made these for you.” She said right after she had set down the plate, as well as the tea cup and a small kettle of green tea. Curiously, there was a rectangular piece of cloth that she had set before him.

He stared at the sweets in disbelief, making him wonder why only now had she decided to make these for him.

As if reading his mind, she sat down across from him and bowed her head.

“My apologies for not being able to make these daifuku for you. While we had red beans and mochi in stock, it had been very difficult to get hold of strawberries. It was in season but whenever I pay a visit to the market, it always got sold out.”

For her to go that far in order to make him these…

This had been the second time she had gone out of her way to do something for his sake, something that he had a hard time believing. No doubt, she was doing this either to please Imagawa, or she wanted him to be indebted to her.

No one would ever do something out of the kindness of their own hearts.

“Thankfully, the merchant that I always buy from was kind enough to save some for me when I went there three days ago. While I had wanted to make strawberry daifuku and serve it to you immediately, I decided to practice making some, as I did not want to disappoint you in serving unripe strawberries. As I had suspected, it still tasted too bitter.”

At this point, he had gone back to ‘reading’ his book, but was actually listening to every word she said. With each confession she made, the Lord of Mikawa could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment over the actions she had undertook in order for him to eat the daifuku.

He sneaked a glance at her, who had now aimed her eyes at the dessert placed before him. “The strawberries have ripened today, Motoyasu-sama, and I hope that the ones that I paired with the daifuku are sweet enough for you to enjoy.”

His ears were turning red, he was sure of it, and while he had wanted to slowly take his time in eating one, Motoyasu found himself putting down the book, grabbing a piece and taking a bite out of it in haste, ignoring the fact that the chance of the fruit juice dripping down the sides of his mouth was high.

But he didn’t care if he looked so undignified right now.

All he wanted was to eat the dessert he had been craving for for the past few days.

To his relief, she said nothing as he began eating the daifuku, contenting herself with simply watching him eat the pieces she had made. Occasionally, he would reach out for the cloth to dab his mouth dry, but he would continue on with his snacking, until there was nothing left on the place, not even the flour that she used to coat the sticky dessert.

It occurred to him that he had managed to finish eight pieces of strawberry daifuku in record time, without even bothering to sip his tea and enjoy it from time to time, and if he had to be honest, Matsudaira Motoyasu did not know whether to be pleased that his craving had been satisfied for the meantime, or if he should be horrified over the fact that his self-control had gone out of control over a mere dessert.

He was slowly going insane, that, he was sure of.

And yet, he found himself saying the words that he knew he should not be saying at all to anyone, most of all, her.

With his eyes aimed towards the floor, he spoke, “Serve more of these, will you?”

Shit.

He cursed inwardly once more, realizing that he had slipped once more in front of her, forgetting to use the politest form possible in delivering his words. In a desperate attempt to salvage the façade he had put up all these years, he softened it by adding a ‘please’ at the end.

It took several seconds for her to respond to him. “… Yes, of course, Motoyasu-sama. Gladly.” To his surprise, she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Why are you smiling?” he found himself asking, even though he knew that, by this point, he should have kept his mouth shut, lest he wanted to embarrass himself further.

If it was even possible, her smile got wider, while her brown eyes were shining with happiness.

The sight of it had taken his breath away, his heart pounding stronger than ever against his chest, and if it was humanly possible, he could actually hear his own heartbeat as he heard her confession.

“Because Motoyasu-sama had openly enjoyed and praised my food for the very first time.”

He found it odd for her to interpret his demand to be served strawberry daifuku often as ‘praise’, but if that was how she would see it, then he would not argue with her.

In response, all he could do was shrug and go back to ‘reading’ his book.

She took that as her cue to gather the utensils, though before she had taken the tray along with her, she poured more tea for him, took the ceramic teapot along with her and was about to leave the room when he stopped her from doing so.

“Wait.”

She set down the tray again and gave him a questioning look. “Motoyasu-sama?”

He was well-aware of what he was doing.

He knew that what he was about to do might drive her away from him, and that it was also out of character for him to even try and attempt such a stupid thing but… sometimes, he simply could not help himself. In hindsight, he was grateful that he had been given a semi-isolated house all to himself, and everyone else in the household except her ignored him on a regular basis.

Slowly, he swiped off the flour that stained her left cheek and tsk. “… You look like a wreck.” As an afterthought, he proceeded to lick the flour from his thumb, noting the subtle sweetness in it, though he failed to notice that her face had turned bright red at his gesture.

Still flustered, she had at least managed a reply, which sounded like, “I’ll be more careful, Motoyasu-sama.”

“See that you do.” He absent-mindedly replied as he picked up his book once more and pretended to read, masking the nervousness that he was feeling towards what he had just done. Upon seeing her from the corner of his eye exiting his room with the tray in her hand and her face still a beet red, he left out a heavy sigh.

This was… what was happening to him?

For him to enjoy food that much…

It boggled his mind how eating new dishes had changed his perspective about food. Before, he only saw it as a requirement to keep himself alive; after all, the body needed nourishment, which can only be gotten from food. Each and every day he spent as a hostage, he ate the food that was prepared for him, most of it bland-tasting and sometimes outright disgusting. He was never seen as a person, but as ‘someone’ who was worth keeping alive, all because of his illustrious name.

She, on the other hand, was going out of her way to make sure that he was eating properly, and that he was eating something that was delicious. At first, he found it annoying that she was fussing over him, but now… well, he could actually tolerate her presence.

And of course, he could not discard the fact that she had made something that even he craved for, in his moments of weakness.

Strawberry daifuku… who knew fruits, red bean, and mochi went well together?

All along, he thought that sea bream tempura was his favorite, but after tasting the dessert she had made, he had to say, he was become more and more fond of the daifuku.

He pushed the nasty though that made its way to his way, though there was no stopping the heat that came across his face as soon as he processed the idea.

Are you sure you’re really fond of the daifuku, or are you actually fond of the one who makes it for you?

He did a double take, glad that no one else was in the room right now to witness him jolt from shock at the thought of having… feelings towards the wench.

There was no damn way he had feelings for her.

The denial had come so easily, but the rebuttal by his mind was faster.

Because of her absence for the past few days, he had been unable to concentrate on his reading.

Because of her lack of visits, he had been unable to sleep properly, as he imagined her making his desserts for someone else, which had filled him with rage every night he thought about it.

Because of her smile, his every waking moment was filled with thoughts of her, and him not seeing her in his room was making him just a bit lonely.

Two weeks ago, she had been by his side often, reading the book of poems that Imagawa had lent to him. To his own surprise, despite not having the same standards of education as he did, she could easily interpret every poem that there was, compared to him, who could not make sense of the literature that he was reading. Until now, he was still unable to interpret a poem correctly, and his poetry writing was as dismal as ever, much to Imagawa’s disappointment.

He could barely remember the poems that they had breezed through, as most of it had been unmemorable… except for one gesture that left him reeling.

It had been a case of wrong timing, for as soon as he was about to turn the page, she was about to do the same, leading to their hands overlapping one another. As someone who disliked being physically close with another and loathed physical contact, it had actually been… tolerable when the palm of her hand had pressed against the back of his hand. He remembered seeing her blush over the simple contact. She had also hastily apologized for accidentally touching him and for intruding on him during his studies, excusing herself in the process because she had to prepare his dinner.

Now that he had more time to ponder on the very topic he had been avoiding for the past few days, he realized that the very night he showed her his most vulnerable side, and the day after that, during the time they have started studying poems together, may have been the catalyst for this… reaction towards the woman who served him his most favorite food as of this moment.

Still, there was no way he would ever have romantic feelings for her.

He may be fond of the dessert that she made and served, but it was simply impossible for him to see her in that way.

Besides, with the situation they were in right now, he could not see it going any further than a secret affair, if it did came to that. Despite being the head of the clan, he was a hostage of Imagawa, which meant he had no freedom. On the other hand, a servant like her was free to go back to the capital if she chose to leave the services of the Imagawa. As long as he was stuck in Sunpu, he had no choice but to submit to Imagawa’s demands in order to protect his clan from being attacked by more powerful enemies. In exchange for being Imagawa’s prisoner, the warlord was obliged to protect the Matsudaira clan, and it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Other than his lack of freedom, her leaving Sunpu would also mean that she would move on with her life. She would most probably find someone else who would appreciate her dishes more, and would actually praise her cooking properly, unlike him, who preferred to demand that she serve desserts that he enjoyed more often. Not only that, but she would most likely be better off living a less complicated life of a commoner, far away from the chaos of war, and from the likes of the samurai who led a life filled with constant threats.

Convincing himself that he need not further complicate the situation, he had to keep telling himself over and over again, reminding him that on the day he had become a hostage at the age of eight, he had no future.

Upon reaching his teenage years, he had resigned himself to having no future unless he and the clan were no longer under Imagawa’s control… which was impossible to break free from right now, especially since Imagawa had the backing of Takeda and Hojo.

He had no time for anything other than try and become stronger than ever; the earlier he could be free from Imagawa’s control, the better.

Maybe by then, when he was roaming free and was allowed to walk and stand tall among his peers, she would actually look his way and would have him, just as he would allowed himself to do the same to her.

For now, all he could do was push away all romantic thoughts of her and focus on becoming someone who mattered, and had value beyond the name he was born with.

Notes:

See how Motoyasu’s story event killed me over and over again from feels

In all seriousness, compared to all of the warlords you meet during the Prologue Arc, Motoyasu and MC are still distant towards one another, especially since Motoyasu is isolated from everyone, and MC’s only source of information within the castle being Imagawa. While the Epilogue did show that they’ve started to get closer to one another, I still think it’s not enough, and in turn, the slow burn is killing me bit by bit.

As for the inspiration behind this fic, this fic was created because I am still hung up on the story event, as well as trying to satisfy my headcanon of how Ieyasu became really obsessed with strawberry daifuku. As someone who likes sweets, strawberry daifuku is really good, though I prefer the one with white bean paste, because it’s sweeter.

In all honesty, strawberry daifuku does taste bittersweet, but it’s good with houjicha.

... Also, the fact that they only have it during winter makes you treasure the short period you can eat it.

The Hojo-Takeda-Imagawa Alliance (called the 甲相駿三国同盟 (Kousousun Sangoku Doumei)) mentioned in the fic did happen historically, with all three clans bound to one another through marriage. This alliance would also cost Imagawa Yoshimoto his life when he attempted a move to Kyoto, and got attacked by Oda Nobunaga.

Lastly, this is a tribute fic in the hopes of finally getting that elusive Ieyasu coaster from KaraTetsu.

I hope you all enjoyed the fic. Till next time!

[letting-them-take-liberties]

“Hurry up and bring it over... please.” “Hurry up... please.”

... Did he just... correct himself? Don’t tell me... just now, was that the real him?

tl;dr: MC suspects that the Motoyasu she knows is not what he seems, and is slowly seeing his true nature.

A few days ago, I translated a summary of KoiRan’s soon-to-end Story Event entitled ‘Ransei ni Mebaeta Koi’ (A Love In Full Bloom In Turbulent Times), which is part of the game’s Prologue Arc wherein it takes on a ‘what-if MC met the warlords way back in their youth?’ scenario.

Matsudaira Motoyasu, as he was called back then, was a hostage of Imagawa Yoshimoto in Sunpu Castle, and because of his current situation, his ‘personality’ is different from the Tokugawa Ieyasu in the Main Story.

During this Story Event, Motoyasu had gotten hungry and was telling MC to bring him some food, which had actually stunned her because it was the first time he actually requested her for food.

(A bit of a context here: Motoyasu’s life back them was so monotonous and restricted that his everyday schedule is clockwork; he would only eat when his meals are brought to him by MC, and never asks her to do anything special... until this point in the game.)

One thing to note about the big difference in Motoyasu and Ieyasu is their speech patterns.

The most noticeable would be the use of pronouns: while Ieyasu uses ‘ore’ (俺) to refer to himself, Motoyasu uses the more polite ‘boku’ (僕).

The more complicated part to actually pinpoint would be the way they speak and deliver their sentences.

While Ieyasu is rather demanding and would order people around (something that Japanese learners would know as the ‘imperative form’・命令形), Motoyasu is overly polite and would often use the term ‘would you please’ (いただけませんか？) whenever he asks for something to be done.

(Why not ‘kudasai’? Because while ‘kudasai’ does translate to ‘please’, it still sounds a bit demanding, hence the term ‘itadakemasen ka’. There’s a more polite way to ask, but let’s not complicate things further.)

On the first image, Motoyasu actually managed to correct himself in time because it still sounded natural, as he still kept up the pretense of being polite.

「早く持ってきて・・・いただけませんか？」 (Hurry up and bring it over... please?)

On the second image, however, he actually slipped, something that MC noticed.

「早くし・・・お願いします」 (Hurry it up... please.)

That 「 早くし・・・」 part is actually「早くしろ」(hayakushiro) [hurry up!], which is a demand/imperative form; he did try to correct himself, but while he did try to sound more polite by adding 「お願いします」(onegaishimasu), Motoyasu actually made his slip up more obvious.

While the English translation of the sentences may not make so much sense, as there is no overly polite grammar for English, in Japanese, the difference is noticeable and worth taking note of, as this is one way of knowing that Motoyasu’s façade is cracking, and he may soon be showing his true colors to MC.

Hopefully, my explanation made sense. Feel free to let me know if there’s something that’s confusing, or if I overlooked anything.

[mikawa-province]

AO3 version has been posted.

[mikawa-province]

Kiyo’s KoiRan/SLBP Fanfiction Master List

Mobile-friendly version of the master page.

Completed:

Fanfiction Prompt Requests (source)

AO3 (all chapters)

#30 - Sharing A Bath | AO3 #26 - Tending an injury | AO3 #20 - A Massage | AO3

Bittersweet 悲喜交々・悲喜交交 （ひきこもごも） [hikikomogomo]   (n) having mingled feelings of joy and sorrow; joy and sorrow alternating in one’s heart; bitter-sweet

In which Matsudaira Motoyasu has a hard time voicing out what he wants and makes up for it with actions.

Tumblr

AO3

No Holding Back 心情吐露　（しんじょうとろ） [shinjoutoro] (n) expression of one’s feelings; pouring out one’s heart

In which Tokugawa Ieyasu realizes that the things he never understood before makes much more sense, now that he had feelings.

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AO3

Just Deserts 杓子果報　（しゃくしかほう） [shakushikahou] (adj-na,n) coming by ample servings of delicious food; being blessed with good fortune

In which the only way to appease Tokugawa Ieyasu was through ‘bribery’ of his favorite things.

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AO3

In-Progress:

Summer Fires and Winter Fans 夏炉冬扇（かろとうせん） [karotousen] (n) useless [untimely] things

In which the more Ieyasu tries to ignore his feelings, the more it gets shoved to his face.

[1], [2]

AO3

One Blade, Two Halves 一刀両断（いっとうりょうだん） 1. To cut in two with a single blow 2. To take drastic measures

In which the Lord of Mikawa gets snowed in with the person he least wanted to be stuck with.

[1]

AO3

Lovers’ Quarrel 痴話喧嘩　（ちわげんか） [chiwagenka] (n) lovers’ quarrel

In which misunderstandings had caused Sakai to think that the birth of the Tokugawa heir was forthcoming.

Tumblr: [1], [2]

AO3

Shock Therapy 形勢有利 （けいせいゆうり） [keiseiyuuri] (adj-na,n) situation [turn of events] being favorable [advantageous]

In which the future Shogun’s gestures are horribly misinterpreted by the heroine as a way to annihilate her once and for all.

Tumblr: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5], [6], [7], [8], [9], [10], [11], [12], [13], [14], [15], [16], [17], [18], [19], [20], [21], [22], [23], [24], [25], [26]

AO3 (coming soon)

Quirk of Fate 合縁奇縁（あいえんきえん）[aienkien] (n) a chance encounter between two people brought together by fate.

In which a prized blade becomes a catalyst that binds.

Tumblr: [1], [2], [3]. [4]. [5]. [6], [7], [8]

Wishful Thinking 麻姑掻痒　（まこそうよう）　[makosouyou] (n) things happening exactly as one pleases [wishes]; someone being very attentive to one’s wishes

In which Tokugawa Ieyasu realizes the difficulties of things not going according to plan.

Tumblr: [1], [1.5], [2]

AO3

Coming Soon:

#25 - Exchanging letters

[mikawa-province]

Updated as of 2017/5/1.