That night. Outside Kaede's Village.
Within a hastily erected tent. Steam rose in billowing clouds. Mist and water-light intertwined. A hot spring, born from a fissure split open beneath the earth, gushed forth and filled an opening that was by no means naturally formed.
It had become a newborn onsen. But to call the surrounding structure a "tent" was generous. It was an open-air enclosure, pieced together from the tent cloth of the Crimson Guard cavalry and the battle curtains of the Uesugi army.
The four sides were sealed against the wind. Only the top was open to the sky. Moonlight spilled through the gap above and fell into the rising steam, shattering into silver-white motes.
The hot spring was not large. It could accommodate perhaps seven or eight people. The water temperature was just right. The scent of minerals rose from the depths, carrying the faint tang of sulfur and rusted iron.
Shinji leaned against a rock at the edge of the pool. The water reached his chest. His crimson demon eyes were half-lowered.
To his left, roughly two paces away, Kikyō sat upon the stone ledge at the pool's edge. Her white robes had long since been exchanged. She wore only a thin bath towel wrapped around her. Her black hair was bound into a loose bun behind her head. A few stray strands clung to the side of her neck. The heat rolled over her pale skin, condensing into fine beads of water.
She had only soaked the lower half of her body. Everything below her waist was submerged. Above her waist, the towel was wrapped tightly and securely. Yet the fabric, soaked by the steam, had turned semi-transparent, faintly outlining the undulating curves beneath. Her face was expressionless. Dignified. Reserved. But her gaze had never once left Shinji's right side.
Because on his right, sat Takeda Shingen. The Tiger of Kai hadn't even bothered with a towel. She was completely bare, soaking in the water. Her deep crimson hair spread across the surface, soaked and clinging to her shoulders and the curve of her back.
Her honey-colored skin gleamed with a healthy luster within the mist. Below her collarbones, those two absurdly exaggerated curves floated upon the water's surface, rising and falling faintly with her breath. The water rippled and split around them.
Her waist was impossibly slender, so slender it formed a ridiculous contrast with the curves above and below. She leaned against the pool wall, her arms draped over the rocky edge.
Her posture was spread out to the point of near recklessness. Her deep crimson eyes were half-lidded. The corner of her lips carried a satisfied, sated curve.
This posture, was more than enough to put Kikyō on high alert.
"Comfortable." Shingen let out a long breath. Then she tilted her head and looked across the pool, Uesugi Kenshin sat in the farthest corner. Her deep indigo hair spread across the water's surface. The white band across her forehead had been removed and laid upon the rocks at the edge of the pool.
This was the only time she ever removed that band. Her white towel was wrapped all the way up past her neck, bundling herself so tightly that not even the outline of her shoulders could be seen. Huddled in the corner, her posture was the complete opposite of the figure who had swung her blade upon the battlefield moments ago. She looked more like some small animal that had accidentally fallen into the water, curling her limbs inward and desperately minimizing her presence.
But her eyes utterly failed to cooperate with this low-key facade. They were constantly, frequently, almost every three seconds, darting toward Shinji's direction. A glance, then hastily averted. Averted for a second, then another glance. Her lips moved, chanting sutras.
The pace was far faster than usual. To Shinji's ears, it sounded less like scripture and more like someone frantically reciting multiplication tables. It had absolutely zero calming effect. The tips of Uesugi Kenshin's ears were so red they seemed about to drip blood.
This was, without a doubt, an utterly absurd scene. Three people. One demon. Soaking in a hot spring that Shinji had created with a single punch. Yes, a single punch. During that daytime sparring match of one versus six hundred, Shinji, in his 60 meters Shura Form, had used his lower-left arm, the empty bone hand, to slam a fist into the ground.
A detonation of pure-impure collision. The original intent had been to create terrain barriers to block the Crimson Guard cavalry's charge routes. The effect was certainly achieved, half the open field had been plowed into a lunar landscape of craters and pits.
But the shockwave from that punch had directly pierced through the surface strata and opened a channel to a deep underground hot spring. Scalding groundwater had erupted from the fissures, filling a crater several meters in diameter upon the field.
The moment Takeda Shingen saw the hot water surging up from the ground, she stopped fighting. Not that she could have won anyway. The sky had already been torn apart by that demonic aura.
It had split for the second time. She simply snapped her iron fan shut, shed her armor, and immediately ordered Yamagata Masakage to have her troops cordon off the area.
"A NATURAL HOT SPRING! WE FOUGHT AND GOT A HOT SPRING! IF YOU DON'T SOAK, YOU'RE A FOOL!" And she had been the first to jump in. She had also grabbed hold of Shinji, who had been preparing to withdraw his Shura Form and leave.
With that astonishing arm strength of hers, she had nearly dragged him, along with the several meters of Shura Form he hadn't yet fully retracted, straight into the pit.
Uesugi Kenshin, watching this scene, had blinked with her violet eyes. Then Shingen turned and shouted at her, Kenshin was silent for two seconds. Then she untied her sash.
And as for Kikyō… The moment Kikyō saw, from atop the roof, Takeda Shingen dragging Shinji toward the water, the speed with which her Spiritualization Technique brought her to the scene made Shinji feel as though it was even faster than his Lightning-Sinewed Body at full speed.
She absolutely could not allow such a situation to develop on its own. But at first, Kikyō had only intended to stop them. Yet after being provoked by two sentences from Takeda Shingen… a bit of goading… and faced with such a rare hot spring, she ultimately couldn't harden her heart.
In this era, for a miko born in the remote countryside, opportunities to bathe were few and far between. In the past, Kikyō had only been able to bathe once every few days. Though she had always been exceptionally clean thanks to her reiryoku, something Shinji knew intimately, faced with a hot spring, she still found it very hard to refuse.
As long as… she kept a close eye on the others. That was all it took. And so it had become this. From battle, inexplicably, into a four-person mixed bath.
"Say...." Shingen broke the silence. Her arm rose from the water, droplets sliding down the smooth, powerful line of her forearm. She turned toward Shinji. Her deep crimson eyes were especially bright within the mist. "That big fellow of yours… what was it called?"
"Shura."
"Shura, the king of the Avīci Hell? Quite fitting. Quite beautiful. And strong, too! But the energy consumption must be considerable, no?"
To manifest the Shura Form in the aspect of a dharma body. That form alone, surpassing anything before, gave Shinji a deterrent power no less than that of an ordinary daiyōkai.
Takeda Shingen was truly awed by it. She even liked it. She was the incarnation of Fudō Myōō. The practitioner of Fūrinkazan. And the most battle-hungry daimyō in the entire Warring States era. Without question. She loved war. Loved conquest. And loved such colossal, magnificent, majestic things!
To this, Shinji merely glanced at her and replied: "No consumption."
"No…?" Shingen's brows lifted. She was genuinely surprised. "Then why did you withdraw it today?"
"Because if we kept fighting, people would have died. And you had already lost." No suspense whatsoever. Whether it was the combination of six hundred heavy cavalry and heavy infantry, or Takeda Shingen and Uesugi Kenshin, wielding the combined momentum of their armies, none of them could be the opponent of the Demon Who Split the Sky, not at his full strength.
Even though, they hadn't even managed to force out his limit. At present, Shinji's strongest form was, of course, the Māra Body after the Twelfth Transformation's Return to One.
The Shura Form was powerful, but it leaned more toward destructive power than true combat strength. It was merely the form that could barely be called a "daiyōkai."
Shingen froze for a beat. Then she burst into laughter. Unrestrained. Her laughter echoed through the tent, stirring ripples across the water's surface. When she laughed, her entire upper body shook.
The two mounds above the waterline swayed violently with the motion. The ripples they sent out even lapped against Kenshin on the other side. Kenshin silently shrank back a little further.
"Exhilarating!" Shingen slapped the water's surface. The splash landed on Shinji's face. "A win is a win. A loss is a loss. Strength and weakness are facts seen at a glance. You never mince words, compared to those retainers back in Kai who spend all day chanting 'Lord Shingen is brilliant,' this is simply far too refreshing."
She wiped the water from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. Her deep crimson eyes stared fixedly at Shinji. There was nothing subtle about that gaze. It held admiration. And it also carried an utterly undisguised possessiveness.
Kikyō's fingertips stirred beneath the water. The faint glow of reiryoku flickered and danced between her palms, poised and ready. Kenshin opened one eye across the pool. Her blue eyes swept over the position of Kikyō's fingers, then glanced at Shingen's expression.
She said nothing. Shingen, however, had no intention of settling down. She flung her wrung-out hair over her shoulder and shifted half a step closer to Shinji.
The waterline reached her waist. Everything above her waist was exposed. Her honey-colored skin was beaded with water droplets, reflecting tiny shards of light beneath the moonlight. She continued to advance.
With astonishing speed, she pressed herself before Shinji. Her gaze blazed. Within it, was written, to the brim, desire!
"Become my right hand! My left hand! Even become one with me! Demon God Nakai Shinji!" Just as upon Mount Hakurei. Takeda Shingen once again extended her invitation.
And so Uesugi Kenshin could no longer hold back, her eyes flew fully open. And so, Kikyō, watching Takeda Shingen's posture, her gaze abruptly froze. Shingen's body had nearly completely pressed against him. Directly. Without the slightest concealment. Her honey-colored skin glistened with the moisture of the hot spring.
The two absurdly exaggerated curves below her collarbones surged up from beneath the waterline, and within the vast, rolling mist, they nearly touched Shinji's arm. Her hand gripped his shoulder. Her palm was warm. Her fingers dug in with force. Her deep crimson eyes, within the mist, were close enough to see the flames dancing within her irises.
"I mean it." Shingen's voice was pressed very low, yet every word was distinct. "Kai. Shinano. Two provinces of unbroken mountains and plains. Whichever piece you want, just take it. The Takeda armies. The Takeda castles. The Takeda gold and silver mines. Use them all as you please. No submission. No oaths of fealty. You be your Demon God. I'll be my Fudō Myōō. The two of us, standing side by side at the highest peak of this realm. No one needs to kneel to anyone. And even more, if you wish it, I could even yield this position to you. This very seat of the head of the Takeda clan. I would hand everything over to you. For you to command. Including myself!"
"Can that little girl of the Imagawa make you such an offer?"
Of course not. Yoshimoto truly did value Shinji. She regarded him as her "household god." She also liked him. But the education she had received since childhood, as the heiress of the First Archer of the Tōkaidō, meant she could never be as bold and unrestrained as Takeda Shingen.
The woman whose true name was Harunobu had never received a strict education befitting a great noble heir. In fact, she had seized her position through the slaughter of her own father.
To her, that seat was not particularly important. What mattered was her own strength. True power. Not those empty, illusory external things that could not be converted into tangible force.
Amidst this, the deep crimson hair of that full-figured, athletic woman slid down against Shinji, its ends touching the water's surface and sending out a few gentle ripples.
Beyond this, Shingen leaned forward another half-inch. The ripples upon the water's surface had already pushed everything upon her chest to an impossibly close distance.
She cared not in the slightest. In fact, she was doing it quite deliberately. "And even more... if you wish it..." Her voice dropped even lower. Her breath nearly fell upon the shell of his ear. "This person called Takeda Shingen.... could also be yours." The final five words. So crisp they carried not a shred of concealment.
This was Takeda Shingen's posture toward those she truly valued. Toward the only existence she believed was qualified to stand beside her, even to command her. Even if that existence was merely a yōkai.
But considering everything that had come before, considering strategic acumen that surpassed even Uesugi Kenshin, considering power that could match the legendary daiyōkai of this age, Takeda Shingen felt that her actions were not wrong.
Toward such an existence… no amount of courtship was excessive. Besides him, she could not think of anyone else worthy of such treatment!
But it was at that very moment, the water stirred. It was Kikyō. The miko, wrapped in her bath towel, did not lift her head. Did not even glance in Shingen's direction.
She simply raised her right hand from beneath the water. Her index and middle fingers pressed together. A single, light stroke. Threads of white reiryoku shot from her fingertips. Exceedingly fine. Nearly invisible to the naked eye. The threads did not attack Shingen.
Instead, they silently coiled around Shinji's left wrist. Then his right wrist. Then his waist. Three threads, gently pulling him half an inch to the left. Only half an inch.
But that half-inch was enough to make Shingen's hand slip from his shoulder. Enough for her… to place him behind her. Soundlessly, Shingen's palm found only empty air. She glanced down at her hand. Then lifted her head and looked at this black-haired miko who had suddenly placed Shinji behind her.
Kikyō's expression remained calm. Her dark pupils met those deep crimson eyes. Her face was serene and cool. Her black hair, damp, clung to her cheeks, yet it only made her seem more like the stillness of a deep pool. No hostility. No anger. But the meaning, was already clear enough.
Shingen blinked. The corner of her mouth, instead, split wide. "Miko… Kikyō, is it? As expected, you are also a powerhouse!" It was impossible for Takeda Shingen to be entirely unaware of Kikyō's reputation.
Kikyō did not reply. The reiryoku threads were soundlessly withdrawn beneath the water. But her right hand rose from the surface and rested upon Shinji's arm behind her. Then it slid downward. Her five fingers interlaced with his. Her palm pressed flush against his.
This gesture was more direct than any words. Shingen watched the sight of that pale hand clasped around Shinji's arm. Something flickered within her deep crimson eyes. Yet she showed no sign of discouragement.
This was her nature. If she wanted something, she reached out and took it. If she couldn't take it, doesn't matter. She would come again next time. War was like this. Courtship was like this. Fūrinkazan. Advance when one should advance. Retreat when one should retreat.
"So protective?" Shingen tilted her head. The honey-toned line of her neck stretched in a graceful arc within the mist. "I should be." Kikyō replied briefly. "Shinji is my beloved."
"Can you protect him forever?"
"You're welcome to try."
The air fell still once more. The ripples upon the water's surface gradually calmed. Across the pool, Uesugi Kenshin had witnessed the entire scene. Her white towel was wrapped even tighter, nearly pulled up to her chin. Her lips moved faintly.
The silent recitation of sutras had clearly accelerated. But, the instant Shingen was blocked by Kikyō, Kenshin's gaze shifted aside for a single moment. She exhaled. Exceedingly light. Exceedingly brief. It was as though she had unconsciously… relaxed.
She herself likely didn't even realize it. But it had indeed been a sigh of relief. And that, caught the attention of those crimson demon eyes upon the water's surface. Shinji glanced at Kenshin. Kenshin's gaze immediately snapped back to the gap in the tent fabric in the distance, pretending to be admiring the moon.
Shinji withdrew his gaze and looked down at the hand Kikyō had intertwined with his own. Then he spoke. At last, he had the chance to speak. And he had already thought through how to respond to this courtship from yet another female daimyō.
"Takeda Shingen."
"Mn?"
"Your terms are very good." Shingen's brows lifted. She waited for what would follow. "But I have already chosen the Imagawa. This, I said upon Mount Hakurei." His voice did not change. Flat to the point of near carelessness.
But that very carelessness was an attitude in itself. It was not a refusal born of hesitation. It was a confirmation in which hesitation had never existed in the first place. He continued, "And besides, I already have Kikyō. Your terms are not worth considering."
Shingen stared at him for three full seconds. Within those deep crimson eyes, many things churned. Unwillingness. Admiration. Regret. And something deeper, an obstinacy buried beneath everything else.
After three seconds, she laughed. Laughed loudly. Her entire body laughed. The water's surface was shaken into ripples by her mirth.
"FINE!" Her iron fan wasn't at hand, so she slapped the water instead. The splash hit everyone in the face. "Not today, then! I'll come again another day!" "I refuse to believe that a daiyōkai like you would have only one woman. As a powerhouse, you shouldn't be content with that! You should be vying for all the beauties beneath heaven!"
"This isn't over. Remember—I, Takeda Shingen, NEVER admit defeat!"
Kikyō wiped the water from her face with her free hand. Expressionless. But the five fingers clasped around Shinji's arm, tightened.