After spending a long time working out our strategy with Sae and Edano, I set off to find Ryo.
Every step echoed heavily in my mind. The plan was clear, precise, almost cruel in its simplicity. My goal was not to convince him by force or threat, but to get him to act exactly as we wanted, while making him believe the opposite. He had to do everything he could to prevent us from going to war with Imagawa, convinced that this was precisely what we were trying to provoke. It was a subtle, dangerous manipulation, where the slightest mistake could tip the scales.
It didn't take Ryo long to make his presence felt. He already seemed to have settled in, as if he had taken possession of the place with an almost disturbing naturalness. Despite the fact that our territory was nothing more than a vast plain stretching as far as the eye could see, there were a few rudimentary dwellings here and there, scattered remnants standing like silent shadows.
And in the middle of this empty, exposed setting, Ryo stood there, perfectly at ease, as if he already belonged there.
"You seem to have already acclimated yourself to the place," I said as I approached him.
Ryo barely looked up to see me coming. That simple, almost careless movement was enough to betray his state of mind. I could sense it immediately: my presence bothered him. His face remained closed, impassive, as if he were trying to exclude me from the setting he had already made his own.
In a deliberately mocking tone, I continued:
"So? Have you already found a way to make this puzzle unsolvable?"
A sneer appeared on his face.
"I don't need to think about it for very long," he replied calmly. "It's a war. Just let people kill each other. The rest will take care of itself." "
His words were chillingly simple.
Nothing had changed. Absolutely nothing. Ryo still saw these puzzles as a form of final judgment, a brutal selection process where only those capable of crushing others deserved to remain. For him, the more deaths there were, the fairer the system was.
But despite Ryo's apparent serenity, I knew it was all an act. A carefully maintained facade. Behind his calm exterior, something was creaking, ready to crack. I spoke up, deliberately shattering the illusion.
"In reality, you know you can't just settle for that, right?"
He didn't react immediately. His silence spoke louder than any answer. I continued, weighing each word.
"Like us, you've surely been given a role to play. A specific character from the history of the Sengoku period. And if you don't fulfill that role... you'll die. "
This time, Ryo didn't even try to hide his confusion. He refused to answer, turning his head slightly away. His silence confirmed what I suspected: I had touched on something essential. A truth he would have preferred to ignore. The game wasn't limited to puzzles and battles. It required perfect interpretation, on pain of execution.
Unfortunately for me, I was missing a crucial piece of information. My knowledge of this period of history was still too sketchy. It was impossible for me to guess what specific role had been assigned to Ryo. And without that, I could only proceed blindly, aware that the slightest mistake could backfire on me.
"So what do you expect? That I help you?" he finally asked me.
His voice was dry, almost weary. I slowly shook my head.
"No. Do what you want. Anyway, we're going to do the same." "
He frowned slightly, visibly surprised. It wasn't the answer he was expecting. After a moment, he asked me what I meant by that.
I held his gaze and replied bluntly:
"We're not going to follow the quests we've been given. We're going to make them impossible to complete."
A heavy silence fell between us. In this modern reenactment of the Sengoku period, where everyone was forced to play a role, it was heresy. Refusing the quest, refusing the script, was directly opposing the very rules of this world. And yet, at that precise moment, I knew that this simple sentence had just cracked much more than his certainty.
Ryo replied that it was a lost cause. According to him, the inevitable could not be changed. No matter the detours, no matter the choices, everything always converged on the same outcome. Death.
He went further. This puzzle, he said, was just a perfect metaphor for what was happening to us right now. We were trapped in a series of deadly riddles, locked in a cycle that only delayed an already predetermined end. A slow and cruel march toward our demise.
I shook my head.
I replied that it wasn't the same thing. Not as long as we remained alone, scattered, distrustful of each other. But by joining forces, there was a way out. A real way out. Not an illusion.
I reminded him that we had already solved three puzzles. Three. Even though I didn't know how many there were in total, one thing was certain: we were still alive. And that simple fact was enough to prove that not everything was predetermined.
I continued, my voice firmer. This new puzzle wasn't there to condemn us, but to show us something fundamental. That even when fate seems sealed, there is always a way to overturn it. A loophole. A decision. A collective action.
Otherwise, why force us to solve puzzles? They could simply kill all of humanity outright, without the staging, without false hope.
It was then that I immersed myself in a flood of old memories. A distant time, almost unreal now. A time when the world had not yet changed. When the movie I was watching in the theater was just another work of fiction, not a cruel, imposed reality that had become our daily life.
Without really realizing it, I opened up to Ryo.
"At first, I think I could have been like you. I wasn't really interested in real life. I was content with the little I had. Surviving was enough for me."
Then something changed.
Strangely, I had grown accustomed to this new world. To its absurd rules, its deadly puzzles, its violence disguised as a game.
"Today, even if I were the only human left on Earth, I would still want to solve them all. One by one. Just to see what awaits us at the end, whatever the answer may be."
My voice grew lower, more sincere.
I took Ryo's hand, not knowing whether he would pull it away or not, and told him that if we worked together, we could easily put an end to this riddle. Not by force. Not by unnecessary sacrifice. But by refusing to accept that everything was already written.
At that precise moment, I was no longer trying to manipulate him. I was simply offering him a possibility. A breach in the destiny he thought was immutable.
Perhaps I had gotten a little too carried away.
Ryo abruptly let go of my hand, as if the mere touch had burned him.
"There is no world in this universe where I will help you."「180°」
His words were dry, definitive. No apparent anger, only an icy certainty. Then, without warning, something happened.
A number suddenly popped into my mind.
180°.
It wasn't a thought. Nor was it a memory. It was a flash. A glitch. As if someone or something had entered my head just to deposit that number there, then disappeared. The number remained there, imprinted, immobile, impossible to ignore. I had a feeling I had seen this number somewhere before...
A violent pain pierced my skull. I instinctively put my hand to my temple. The world swayed. Sounds became muffled, the image shook. I felt my consciousness slipping away, as if being sucked down.
"Losing consciousness...?"
The thought flashed through my mind in a moment of lucidity.
It was exactly what I needed to activate my spotlight.
I wasted no time.
As everything collapsed around me and the pain became unbearable, I whispered these words, like an invocation engraved within me.
"Ready, set, fiction!"...
The battlefield had fallen silent.
Crows were already circling above the bodies, while Imagawa's men wiped their blades with an almost ceremonial calm. There was no rush. Victory was complete.
Imagawa Yoshimoto remounted his horse. His gaze turned eastward, where the road stretched out, long and dusty.
"Prepare the column," he said.
"We will cross these lands at dawn."
One of his servants hesitated for a moment before bowing deeply.
"Yoshimoto-sama..."
He paused.
"The lands we are about to cross... are those of Owari Province."
Yoshimoto slowly turned his head toward him.
"Owari?"
The servant nodded, his voice lower.
"They are currently under the control of a certain... Oda Nobunaga."
A silence followed.
Then Imagawa Yoshimoto burst out with a brief, almost amused laugh.
"Oda... Nobunaga?" he repeated, as if tasting an insignificant name.
"A rowdy child who thinks he's a lord."
A general dared to intervene.
"He is said to be unpredictable, Yoshimoto-sama. Some say..."
Yoshimoto raised his hand. The general fell silent immediately.
"Stories to reassure the weak."
He placed a firm hand on the hilt of his sword.
"The road to Kyoto does not deviate for whims."
He raised his head, his gaze hard and determined.
"Kyoto is the heart of the country.
Whoever controls it shapes the future of Japan.
And I have no intention of asking permission from a provincial lord to accomplish what is destined for me."
The servant swallowed hard.
"Should we... negotiate passage?"
Another laugh, colder this time.
"Negotiate?"
Yoshimoto tilted his head slightly.
"If Oda Nobunaga values his lands... let him come and defend them."
He spurred his horse.
"We will march on Owari as we march over these corpses.
And if Nobunaga stands in our way... "
His gaze wandered toward the horizon for a moment.
"Then he will learn the cost of believing himself greater than his shadow."
The drums began again.
Imagawa's column began to move, confident, overwhelming, sure of its right.
At that precise moment, Imagawa Yoshimoto saw no enemy.
Imagawa Yoshimoto's clan had just set up camp near the village of Okehazama. The banners flapped slowly in the evening breeze, still imbued with the smell of blood from a small local clan that had recently been crushed. The victory had been swift, almost insignificant. Bolstered by this success, they had decided to rest, confident that they could resume their journey to Kyoto at dawn.
The atmosphere around the camp was relaxed. Too relaxed.
However, one of Yoshimoto's vassals, less confident than the others, dared to speak up. He bowed respectfully before asking the question that was gnawing at him.
"How do you intend to cross Owari safely, my lord?"
Yoshimoto sighed, annoyed by what he considered to be unnecessary concern.
"Why are you so worried about that?" he replied wearily.
He then explained his plan, as if stating the obvious. He planned to take control of the strategic castles along the route, crushing the local leaders one by one, without giving them time to organize. Owari would be just one more stop, a formality on the way to Kyoto.
"The Oda clan?" he continued with a sneer of contempt. "It's small. And above all, inexperienced. Nobunaga has neither the men nor the experience to defeat us."
He scanned the assembly before concluding confidently:
"The numerical superiority and prestige of our army are more than enough. Oda Nobunaga will be nothing more than a minor obstacle."
Spectator's note:
Bun Chokan:So that's Imagawa Yoshimoto's plan? He thinks I'm too weak...
...
I woke up with a start. Around me were Saé, Edano, and Shun, as well as other members of my clan whose names I didn't even know. Their faces were tense and attentive, as if my survival had just become their sole priority.
"What happened?" I asked them, still groggy, my voice trembling.
Saé stepped forward slightly, her gaze both serious and concerned.
"You fainted for a few seconds," she replied calmly. "I brought you to safety, to one of the houses in the village."
I let my eyes wander around the place where I was. I had never seen a place like this before. The walls were adorned with polished dark wood, and the tapestries hanging on them told stories of ancient battles and heroes. The furniture seemed more regal than functional, majestic and imposing, as if every detail had been designed to honor the clan leader. The air itself carried a subtle scent of burnt wood and incense, a combination that commanded respect.
For the first time since arriving in this modern Sengoku world, I felt a tangible weight of responsibility. This place did not welcome me as a mere inhabitant. It distinguished me.
"It's strange," I said to Saé, still confused. "I'm sure I fainted alongside Ryo. "
Saé lowered her eyes slightly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. In a slightly embarrassed voice, she replied,
"He didn't want me to tell you... but it was Ryo who brought you back to me."
I froze for a moment. Ryo? Really him?
My mind raced despite myself. An image formed, unreal and almost sweet in the chaos: Ryo carrying me in his arms, like in Beauty and the Beast, when the Beast carries the unconscious Belle into his castle. I saw myself lying down, weak, almost vulnerable, while he walked forward with unexpected poise, each step seeming perfectly calculated, each movement imbued with a strange grace. The wind played with my hair and the fabric of my imaginary maid's dress, while a golden light bathed the scene, as if the whole world were holding its breath to admire this suspended moment.
I had to admit it: there was something romantic about the image. Almost unreal. Almost... sweet.
And yet, a dull revulsion ran through me. How could he have staged himself in this way? Ryo, always so cold, so calculating, so detached, now in this role of chivalrous protector? The idea seemed inconceivable to me, almost offensive to my reason.
Saé put an end to this morbid fantasy when she asked me, in a worried voice, if I was okay.
Her question brought me back to reality with a jolt.
Yes... I remembered now. I had taken advantage of that moment, that loss of consciousness, to activate my spotlight. I had watched our situation as if watching a movie, from a distance, without being trapped in it. Thanks to that, I had access to a specific scene. A scene involving Imagawa Yoshimoto. And now I knew his plan.
Every detail came back to me with disturbing clarity.
I sat up on the primitive bed, still feeling the fatigue weighing on my body, but now with a perfectly clear mind. I met Saé's gaze and replied simply:
" We must prepare ourselves now."
One of the people whose name I did not know looked at me, puzzled, and asked:
"Prepare for what, exactly?"
I then realized that, as far as they were concerned, only Saé, Edano, and Shun were aware of the situation. The rest of the clan knew nothing of our plans, of our knowledge of Imagawa Yoshimoto's movements.
I took a deep breath and decided to make a big announcement. My voice, clear and confident, rose in the room:
"Listen, everyone! We are going to prepare for the arrival of the Yoshimoto clan."
A shiver ran through the assembly. Some immediately panicked, instinctively backing away, as if the mere mention of Yoshimoto was enough to freeze them in their tracks.
Others turned to me with a mixture of disbelief and reproach.
"But... you promised we wouldn't go to war with anyone!" exclaimed one of them.
I looked at them, certain. They knew, just as I did, that each of us had been given a role to play. A specific role, to be scrupulously respected or face consequences. I had received mine, and they had received theirs.
It was then that I spoke again.
I told them that if my suspicions were correct, they too had surely received a quest related to the confrontation with the Yoshimoto clan. Or, failing that, the explicit obligation to follow my orders. I let those words sink in, watching their reactions closely.
A murmur ran through the assembly. Then, little by little, their faces relaxed. The whispering stopped. Everyone calmed down, silently confirming what I thought.
I continued, more firmly: "I have a plan. "
I then continued in a more composed voice.
I explained to them that I had a plan. A dangerous plan, certainly, because breaking the rules meant death. But despite that, one thing had to be clear.
"We are not going to go to war with Yoshimoto."