Chapter 98
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 98
Chapter Title: A Brief Rest (7)
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Mori Yoshinari stepped out of the Hirate Family mansion with a face that was much brighter... no, incomparably radiant compared to before.
She muttered something under her breath while stroking her belly as she walked, but it only made her look all the more endearing.
That said, it was a little scary.
What did it feel like to become a father?
'I'd have to experience it to know.'
The only thing clear was that it felt worlds away from any sense of responsibility. With that strange feeling lingering, Il-yeong stepped outside and let out a massive yawn, mouth agape.
"Yawwn."
He lightly scratched his now-longer hair as he stepped onto the veranda, and the samurai on guard duty bowed their heads in unison. But the atmosphere was worlds apart from last night.
"......"
"......Ahem."
The expressions on the faces of the samurai who pledged loyalty not to Hirate Masahide, but to Hirate Hikage, were far from good. To put it precisely, it was something like a strange mix of disappointment and envy?
"Uh. Hmm."
Il-yeong wasn't oblivious.
Quite the opposite—he prided himself on having decent intuition.
That's why he could instantly tell what point had triggered those looks on their faces.
'Yeah. It was pretty intense, huh?'
Even modern motel rooms could have their soundproofing pierced if you screamed outright. And they'd done just that—screaming and moaning—in a room built with period wooden architecture, divided only by thin paper screens. There was no way they hadn't heard.
What would it feel like if he were in their shoes?
What kind of feeling? Obviously, it'd suck.
Some pulled all-nighters on guard duty, while others spent theirs pounding away like mad. If he'd been lording it over them, he'd have been assassinated ages ago—probably mid-thrust, even.
—Gulp.
Il-yeong licked his dry lips, swallowed, and thought to himself that he'd have to make sure nothing like that ever happened. Better to die run through by a blade on the battlefield than get stabbed in the back by his own men after a sex marathon all night.
'Guess I'll toss them some bonuses.'
Thanks to quietly pocketing fertile lands amid Mino's chaos, Owari's harvest this year would be decent. Handing out special rewards wouldn't get him in trouble with the books. Besides, these were the ones who'd trusted him, marched into enemy territory, and nearly died for it. They more than deserved it.
As Il-yeong mulled over this self-reflection that wasn't quite self-reflection, the door creaked open with a familiar squeak, and a man and woman he knew well approached, bowing their heads to him.
"Eek. Greetings, my lord."
"......Greetings, my lord."
Itsuki and Akechi Mitsuhide.
They bowed to Il-yeong almost simultaneously. But their expressions couldn't have been more different.
Itsuki looked like he was dying from last night's hangover, while Akechi Mitsuhide blushed faintly, avoiding Il-yeong's gaze.
No need to guess.
'......Well, they were on guard duty.'
Akechi Mitsuhide's silver-and-pink eyes trembled faintly. It was the look of someone staring at a beast, so Il-yeong scratched his head before turning to Itsuki.
"Tch. You okay?"
"......Hiss. Yes. My head's pounding, and I reek of booze just breathing, but I'm fine."
That's what we call being hungover.
Social convention and all.
Il-yeong shook his head and said,
"Shut up and rest. Next time, don't drink like that if you can't handle it."
"......It's all because of you. Ahem. Yes, my lord."
Itsuki started to get cheeky for a split second, but wilted the moment Il-yeong gave him a slow, firm look. Of course, neither meant it seriously, so they both ended up chuckling heartily soon after.
"Don't slack off completely—pretend to stand guard inside or something. I'll head to the inner castle with Akechi."
"My apologies, my lord."
Itsuki's face showed zero remorse, but Il-yeong just smirked, took Akechi and a few samurai, and stepped out the gate. Then he spoke to Akechi Mitsuhide behind him.
"Give the samurai who followed me to Suemori something extra special. Make it worth the lives they risked."
"......Y-yes, my lord."
Akechi Mitsuhide still bore the aftereffects of last night; a faint blush colored her face like she'd applied makeup. At that moment, Il-yeong suddenly stopped and turned to look at her.
—Thump.
A breeze happened to blow by, tousling Il-yeong's slightly longer hair, and Akechi Mitsuhide's eyes captured his handsome face in full.
Was it from expending so much energy all night?
His somewhat gaunt cheeks only sharpened his already slender face, and his skin—so pale it didn't suit a battlefield general—looked almost powdered.
His features... well, did they even need mentioning?
Soon, Il-yeong's ruby-red lips parted slightly, and she gripped her chest inwardly. What would he say?
Maybe praise for her hard work?
Perhaps his inexplicable wariness had eased, and he was opening up to her?
What should she do then?
She'd have to help Kicho, now called Nohime.
......But why?
'My heart......'
For some reason, her heart pounded.
She furrowed her brow slightly and mulled over Il-yeong's words that reached her ears. And what Il-yeong had stopped to specifically instruct her on was none other than:
"Except Itsuki."
"Pardon?"
"Yeah?"
Except Itsuki.
Those words input and deleted themselves in her mind on repeat until she realized he meant 'pay the samurai bonuses, but skip Itsuki's,' staring at him blankly.
That's what he meant.
"Akechi?"
Il-yeong waved his hand in front of the seemingly glitched Akechi Mitsuhide and said,
"Something wrong?"
"Ah, no. I'll see to it."
Only then did Akechi Mitsuhide snap back to reality, nodding as she quickened her pace. Il-yeong tilted his head at her retreating figure and muttered,
"What's her deal?"
*
The Hirate Family mansion was close to Kiyosu's inner castle, but not right next door, so it took a bit of walking. That's why, once out on the streets, Il-yeong soon faced a noticeably changed atmosphere.
'......Hmm.'
And that made perfect sense, really.
He stared at the commoners who held their breath and watched him warily as he stepped out.
Oda Nobunaga had chosen Il-yeong as her husband just yesterday, so it was natural for the average folk to regard him with awe. Feeling a bit odd about it, Il-yeong spoke to Akechi Mitsuhide, who was directing the samurai.
"We should pick up the pace."
"Yes, my lord."
Akechi Mitsuhide had long since read the mood, so with a glance ordering the trailing samurai to tighten security, she quickened her steps.
"......"
"Hmph."
Naturally, the samurai sharpened their eyes and focused on their escort duties.
A short while later.
As they passed the civilian houses and reached Kiyosu's inner castle, the guards spotted him and slammed their spear butts straight into the ground, shouting,
"Greetings, Consort!"
They'd already settled on the title of consort, huh.
Il-yeong gave a small smile and passed them, entering the inner castle. Naturally, none of the guards tried to stop him—there was no reason to.
All those on duty inside rose and saluted as he approached. They might lack loyalty, but there was no hostility either. They were all Nobunaga's ashigaru.
'That said.'
He'd made it to the inner castle, but the problem was he had no idea where Nobunaga was. So Il-yeong walked toward a passing official.
"Hey."
"Huh? Oh, u-uh?!"
The weary-faced official, heading out of the inner castle, turned with a hint of irritation at the sudden call. But upon seeing who it was, he gasped and bowed hastily.
"Wh-what can I do for you?"
Unless his eyes were sewn shut, there was no way he wouldn't recognize Hirate Hikage—Il-yeong—the hottest topic in Owari right now. Especially the civil officials who hadn't seen battle firsthand were even more terrified by the rumors spread by ashigaru and samurai about the "Ogre." So he rolled his eyes, wondering if he'd messed up somehow, and bowed even lower. But contrary to his imaginings of imminent seppuku, Il-yeong asked in a voice so gentle it almost surprised him,
"Where's the Daimyo?"
"Pardon?"
Daimyo.
The official, momentarily short-circuited by the word, realized he'd just questioned the "Ogre" and paled, blurting out,
"Sh-she's in the Tenshu Tower!"
"Got it. Thanks."
So, in her quarters, then.
Il-yeong lightly patted the official's shoulder—he could tell the man had been scared half to death for no reason—and headed that way.
And at that moment.
Clank.
The samurai following him glanced his way in unison as they walked, and the official stared blankly at Il-yeong's back—over 180cm tall—before muttering,
"......That's the Ogre."
Even more than he'd imagined.
No, fucking terrifying.