The Distortion

“Hey wake up.”

He was too sleepy to recognize the voice yet.

“What’s wrong?” he rubbed his eyes—his brother’s dark blond hair stood out.

“First, keep quiet and wipe out that disgusting drooling off your mouth.” Adam spoke in a hushed tone.

“What’s gotten into you, it’s still early…”

“Just shut up and come closer.”

Laith lazily dragged his body towards the door—what he had come to know as “fusuma”—and cleared his ear to listen well as his brother indicated.

“…so the attack will be in two days’ time, he will hold the festivities in his castle of course. Most of the preparations to infiltrate have already been made we just need to continue recruiting whoever is willing to join our cause…”

The voice was clearly Tokugawa’s and he was talking to four people whose figures could barely be distinguished through the thick paper of the door. Laith could gather that it was some sort of closed meeting about some secret attack, but it was too early for him to process and draw conclusions from what he just heard.

“Yeah sorry, I’m not following…what’s this all about again?”

“You idiot, this our way to the first fragment!” Adam shouted quietly.

“Hein?”

“The only problem is how we join the fray.” Adam mumbled to himself.

“Hey, don’t ignore me.”

“Lower your bloody voice first! I’ll fill you in once this little meeting is over.”

While waiting for the unknown individuals to leave, Adam was seeking to find a way to take advantage of this golden opportunity that just presented itself on a silver platter or else fortune will sail right past them. Meanwhile, his brother took advantage of the situation to squeeze in a few more minutes of precious sleep…

It wasn’t long before the meeting was dispatched, and they both came out of the room stretching and yawning, acting as if they had just woken up—which was relatively the case for one of them.

“Good morning, Tokugawa san.” they chorused.

“Good morning to you too, did you sleep well? I know it was not the usual bed you must be accustomed to.”

“Oh no problem, we’re used to that as well.”

“Good to know. Breakfast?”

“Gladly, thank you very much.”

They sat at the same table from the previous day, but the atmosphere was a bit different. They tried to hide the fact that they were—in a way—spying on the meeting, but they were doing a very poor job at it.

“I hope we did not disturb your sleep, my comrades and I.” Tokugawa abruptly addressed the topic himself which made them feel a bit relieved.

“No it wasn’t a big deal, we were already awake.” Laith replied naively.

“So you admit to overhearing our conversation?” Tokugawa wore a sly smile on his face.

Oh crap…

Adam immediately shot his brother a piercing look. Laith could almost hear his brother screaming at him through the silence.

“It’s not good manners to overhear private conversations, definitely not when you are guests of a host who just welcomed you last night. I’d still be willing to forgive you…if we weren’t having that particular conversation.”

Yesterday, Tokugawa initially didn’t come out as menacing. Imposing, but not threatening. That impression changed instantly.

Laith gulped. “I promise we didn’t hear anything important, just bits and pieces here and the…” he started spouting nonsense in a ridiculous attempt to salvage the situation.

“Stop talking, you idiot.” Adam interrupted him.

He spoke calmly as he knew this was not the time to panic. If they messed up now it would overcomplicate matters beyond recovery so he’d better not let his stupid little brother squander this chance. Adam was the one needed to navigate decisive conversations; his brother could come into play should those conversations fail.

“In our defense Tokugawa san, you should have probably held the meeting somewhere else—in the veranda perhaps?—if it’s a private matter.” Adam struck first.

“I would have, had I not been cautious of outsiders on the streets eavesdropping. It is a private matter after all.” Tokugawa struck back.

Adam clicked his tongue. This man wouldn’t get outplayed as easily.

“Very well, I yield. I did overhear the entire conversation willingly when I shouldn’t have. Apologies for that.” Adam pushed back his glasses. “But understand this Tokugawa san, the topic of that conversation interests us greatly and I wish to speak with you on that very same topic.”

“Adam san, I may have been kind to you so far, but if you indeed heard what we were talking about then you must realize how much of a delicate and sensitive matter it is for us. So, I suggest you choose your words very carefully or else you might regret ever setting foot in my house.” Tokugawa remained composed throughout his not-so-subtle threat.

Laith threw short glances at his sword lying in the room where they slept. He prepared himself for the worst-case scenario, praying it wouldn’t come to that.

“I understand and I appreciate you giving me the chance to speak.” Adam was unfazed. “I know we are a couple of strangers who just came yesterday so this must feel quite random, but I want you to consider our assistance in the raid you are planning.”

“Your assistance?” Tokugawa was taken aback. “That surely is random, not to mention very premature on your part. Don’t you think you should first explain why I should not silence both of you right here and now for the simple fact that you—complete strangers—are aware of our plans? It is fairly reasonable for me to not take any risks of jeopardizing the entire operation, wouldn’t you agree?”

“That is a fair assessment, but I will repeat that we are two foreigners who set foot on this continent yesterday. If you were to consider we were some sort of spies, we would have tried to infiltrate much earlier. Besides, is your enemy that resourceful to where he can afford foreign spies?”

“Frankly, I do not know what he is capable of anymore; he has surprised me time and time again. So, I would not put it beyond him to have you two as his latest surprise.”

“Do we really look like spies, Tokugawa san? I look like I escaped out of a laboratory from a time I doubt you ever witnessed, whilst my brother looks like he just crossed an endless desert.” Adam said, pointing at their outfits—a complete contrast to their current setting.

No need to paint us like lunatic outcasts…, Laith felt slightly offended by the statement.

“The whole point of spies is to not look the part while doing their work.” Tokugawa replied.

“Point taken,” Adam paused, pushing back his glasses then followed, “But I hear you have one of the most potent intelligence services at your disposal right here at Yamato, so why would anyone go out of his way to employ people like us?”

“How would you know about our intelligence service?”

“I’m a pretty resourceful person.”

“That does not necessarily help your case.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Tokugawa san.”

A short silence took place. Laith could have sworn he felt sparks flying between them. It was one thing for a veteran samurai to give off an intimidating vibe, but his brother…never in his life did he think he would ever describe a Scholar as intimidating. Even the way Adam spoke changed as words stopped being mere tools for his arguments, but sharp weapons.

“I do not know why he would resort to such roundabout maneuvers, but I would not blame him if he decided to avoid relying on their services. Dealing with them can be quite unpleasant.” Tokugawa said.

“And yet people have continued to deal with them. The results they offer are too seducing to forgo their services.”

Tokugawa did not reply. He would never compliment them; he refused—on principle—to have anything to do with them, even if his comrades would do so.

“You can trust me when I tell you we have no prior involvement with anyone inside the capital, much less the country.” Adam added.

“You could always start now, if he can offer you money, power or privilege. You can always change your mind.”

“That is not what we are after, not even remotely close.”

“Then what is it you are you after, Adam san?” Tokugawa demanded an answer.

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you.” Adam’s response was firm, though unsatisfactory.

“You will have to do better than that for you to earn my trust, let alone entrust you with any form of responsibility. Certainly not this responsibility.”

Adam pushed back his glasses. “I’m afraid I cannot give away our reason for wanting to help, you will simply have to rely on the fact that we are offering a valuable service.”

“You keep speaking of help, assistance and service, what do you have to offer that I do not have already?”

“Someone of my intellect can always be useful—with your insight of course—in planning out the raid and setting things in motion. As for my brother, you should simply ask your disciple Genjiro.”

Tokugawa, clearly staggered at the last statement, turned his eyes towards Laith who was on edge the entire time, still prepared for when words would stop being useful and blades would do the talking.

“Seeing your reaction tells me that you hold him in high regard, so let me add that my brother fought on par with him, so that should count for something. And I gather that you are still lacking men to fight on your side, so at the end of the day, I reckon our help is indeed valuable.”

Tokugawa had no immediate response. The man facing him had some solid arguments to back him up, a testament to his intelligence. However, one quality—a fairly important one—remained to be verified. His Honesty.

“What would you do if you were in my shoes, Adam san?” Tokugawa asked, eying Adam with the same fierce look.

“Pardon?”

“If you had to make this same decision in my stead, what would you do?”

“I wouldn’t trust us.” Adam answered without the slightest hesitation.

Both Laith and Tokugawa were dumbfounded by Adam’s bold reply.

“What are you trying to accomplish?” Laith hissed quietly.

“Please do tell, I am also curious.” Tokugawa wondered.

“I said I wouldn’t trust us, I never said I wouldn’t use us.”

Tokugawa chuckled. “Aren’t you an interesting man…”

Tokugawa never seriously doubted them to be affiliated with the enemy, he was simply being cautious like any reasonable man would. His main gripe however was whether or not he could rely on the help of two foreigners who did not share his ambition and were simply doing this for their own profit. They would never showcase the same resolve and dedication to his cause.

He was the leader of the upcoming raid and having a sense of responsibility towards his associates was something he was bound by, so was he truly willing to take the blame in case these two failed him? Was he willing to live with that decision? Insofar as he was concerned, Tokugawa was willing to take that gamble, with a little insurance nonetheless—Adam just gave him a hint.

“Fine. I will accept your offer. Still, there is one more thing I’ll have you do before I am fully convinced.”

“And what might that be?” Adam wasn’t surprised—he indirectly asked for it.

“There is someone among those four individuals that came to visit me this morning that I would like for you to convince of your worth. I hope that is not too much to ask of you.”

“Understandable. We’ll try our best.” Adam replied, holding in a sigh of relief.

The air was no longer electric. It seemed as if a raging tornado had been storming the place. Laith was grateful he didn’t have to thrust himself inside that tornado. Now that it calmed down, he could finally join in.

“Okay my turn now, if you two gentlemen don’t mind,” Laith cleared his throat—somewhat comically. “I keep hearing about a raid, but all that comes to mind when hearing that word are dungeons and raid bosses. So, since we are a part of this now, would you please, Tokugawa san, fill me in—and my brother—on all the details we’re missing.”

Usually, he’d be left out of the conversation first, patiently waiting for his turn at the end. His earlier blunder reminded him why his brother invented that rule. In Laith’s defense, that rule had become obsolete for the last decade, only to be reinstated a little over a week ago.

“You have every right to acquire such knowledge but first, I want to properly introduce myself to the both of you.” The senior samurai straightened up. “My name is Tokugawa Daisuke, a samurai of the renowned Tokugawa clan who lived in the Edo period before the Distortion. Right now, I am a noble and former associate of a Daimyo, a feudal and powerful lord. I also run a dojo where I teach Kenjutsu, the art of the sword. Pleased to meet you.” He bowed his head.

* * *

The supreme ruler in Yamato was the Shogun, the highest authority in the country overseeing both political and military affairs. It was considered bold to forego the title of emperor with all the history and legacy behind it. However, it was after revising that very same legacy that the decision was made, almost unanimously.

After the Distortion, the Yamatojin dispensed with having an emperor that often ended up as no more than a figurehead, potentially serving as a catalyst for division. As for the religious significance of the rank, it was only natural that new interpretations come forth after the world itself had been born anew, labeled Amayomikai this time around, the boundary of heaven and hell.

And this new world wasn’t kind to them—or anyone for that matter—so if they ever wanted to survive as a people and as nation, a unified and unshakable leadership was in order. Perhaps there was no better candidate for the position than Oda Nobunaga, a former Daimyo known as one of the three unifiers of the land of the rising sun before the Distortion.

He did inevitably step up as expected of him. After the Distortion, Oda Nobunaga managed, once again, to rally people behind him and ascended the echelon of power to reach the very top. He succeeded in building a strong and self-sufficient country that rivaled the other major forces that were shaping up at the same time.

That was until his demise a year ago. He fell victim to a lethal disease and although he left behind no shortage of offspring, none was fit to rule—the oldest had yet to come of age. As was often the case, a rift was created in the administration headed by the shogun, with varying options laid out. Ultimately, the different arguments gathered into two major opposing views.

One side advocated for the appointment of a regent who would rule until Nobunaga’s eldest son came of age, whilst the other side wanted the line of succession to be completely shifted to another family. Moreover, that should become the policy going forward and no clan would monopolize the seat of the Shogun.

Numerous discussions and countless reunions were upheld, to no avail. The country had no ruler, haphazard policies, social unrest brewing, economic crisis on the horizon…patience was growing thin. Inevitably, war erupted. The damage done was alarming, the country rapidly falling into darkness, a familiar one at that. The people witnessed history repeating itself once again, a bloody history tainted by civil war.

A year of continuous conflict—an absurdly long time by Amayomikai’s standards—had weighed heavily on Yamato as a whole, the losses could no longer be ignored. A truce was mandatory—albeit temporary—and the armistice was agreed upon in hopes of alleviating the crisis.

However, there was one Daimyo who allegedly broke that agreement, or so had claimed Daisuke Tokugawa. The Daimyo in question was Nakamura Kensei. He was but a regular samurai with great ambition, and people had severely underestimated the lengths he was willing to go to in order to reach greater heights.

The position of Daimyo was one of great influence—answering only to the Shogun—and a man like Kensei wouldn’t miss the chance to acquire the title, even if it meant switching sides. He climbed his way to power by betraying the very same Daimyo he worked under and joined the opposing force to become a Daimyo himself. It was an offer he could not refuse.

That act, however unfaithful, was not uncommon in politics and warfare. His former allies weren’t that surprised when it happened, even more so when the reward was revealed. If anything, some even expected Nakamura to make that move sooner or later, considering his character. It certainly did sting a little, betrayal often did, but no one harbored much of a grudge against him for it.

That was until the next incident occurred.

As in any truce, both parties had resumed the negotiations in the hope of reaching a peaceful solution. A meeting between two Daimyos, Nakamura Kensei and Toyotomi Shinji—Kensei’s former lord—was organized. A lot of hope was riding on this particular meeting; these two could potentially act as a bridge between the opposing sides considering their past alliance.

Or it could end in utter disaster.

Kensei offered Shinji a welcome befitting of such important meeting, inside a decorated castle accompanied by a great display of conviviality…only to be ruined by a terrible incident. A devastating fire ravaged the place and Shinji, alongside the retainers who accompanied him, were caught in it. A formal envoy of esteemed guests coming in peace, and looking for peace, ended up incinerated to death.

Not a good look for the host.

Officially, it was written up as an accident. Still, it would have been fairly easy at that juncture to accuse Kensei of murder and thus breaking the peace treaty, despite his claims. It all felt too convenient to be a coincidence. However, the scale of the incident and the considerable losses in Kensei’s own ranks had people reconsider their accusations.

To go as far as to sacrifice a good third of his forces so that he would not be accused of breaking the peace treaty…a fairly drastic measure. Surely no one would go that far to cover up for the assassination of one individual, however important he was. Certainly not when the war wasn’t over yet; having as many soldiers under your belt still mattered.

All of a sudden, Kensei had very little reason to be doubted as an arson who intentionally provoked a fire in his own keep. Yet, Daisuke still thought otherwise. However dishonorable and desperate it might have seemed, it was a clever move as no one could accuse Kensei directly of murder or treachery, and he indeed got away with it. Daisuke knew what kind of man Nakamura was, they were associates affiliated with the same Daimyo after all.

As to what could drive Kensei to go through with such scheme, Daisuke believed it had been Shinji’s growing power and influence. Tokugawa’s former Daimyo was arguably the strongest out of his peers and the closest to being appointed as the next Shogun even. After all, an alliance between two of Yamato’s most famous clans would naturally assert itself as a major contender for the seat of power.

And that further fed into Daisuke’s belief that the whole situation reeked of a nasty plot. Shinji may have been rather old and grown quite feeble, but the moment he wielded his katana, you had better start praying. His skill was unparalleled—save for one samurai—and all quailed before it. It felt almost comical that a mighty warrior like him would die in such a “regular” incident—Daisuke believed it would have required the fire of “Kagutsuchi” encompassing the entire castle for Shinji to perish in that manner.

Still, his own belief wouldn’t be considered as reliable evidence for murder. Realizing that no proof could be held against Nakamura, retribution was the only way to exact justice. And so, Daisuke set a plan in motion, recruiting people to join his cause, which proved to be harder than anticipated. Some feared for their lives, most didn’t believe him and others warned him that by seeking revenge, he would reignite the embers of war once again.

Daisuke fully understood those who didn’t wish to be involved with his quest for vengeance, all the while ignoring the ones who called him delusional, liar and desperate. However, the caveat brought up by the last category of people had ample merit. Was revenge, however righteous, worth plunging an entire country back into war? His “noble” deed could easily get overlooked and Daisuke would be labeled as nothing more than a selfish brute taking matters into his own hands to settle a personal vendetta.

Was he really willing to go through with such decision? It was nearly an impossible choice to make, but he made it nonetheless. He was fully aware of the consequences of his actions, but his honor as a samurai compelled him to act or else his lord’s spirit would never rest. Daisuke came to terms with dying as the villain if it meant putting an end to the torment of the dead who were treacherously wronged.

And as fate would have it, a chance presented itself to do so: the “Fukkatsu” festival. It was a newly instated festival that celebrated the rebirth of the country after the Distortion. In two days’ time, the people would commemorate the fourth anniversary by holding festivities inside the numerous castles spread across the capital—the Daimyos were essentially the hosts of the celebration.

Thus, Nakamura Kensei, being a Daimyo himself, would welcome the many performing groups volunteering to display shows of their own choosing, so long as they appealed to the lord’s taste—there was no uniform performance or ritual to celebrate the festival. Daisuke saw this as a perfect opportunity to safely infiltrate, becoming their best chance to strike the otherwise heavily fortified castle.

The number’s disadvantage would matter a lot less considering it was a celebration during a supposed ceasefire. A safe and reasonable assumption would state that a high level of security would be very low on the list of priorities and considering the cheerful atmosphere of revelry, the enemies were very likely to let their guard down, lulled into a false sense of security.

Tokugawa wouldn’t miss this chance.