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Hideyoshi couldn’t wrap his mind around how people could keep saying Lord Nobunaga’s eyes were cold.
Now, he wouldn’t dare say he knew him well - how could he claim to really know such an extraordinary man? - but it was true that he spent more time with him than anyone else.
And in that time he’d seen his eyes glimmer with mischief whenever he was caught stealing candies from the kitchen, shine with determination when mapping out incredible strategies to bring about the change he, both of them, wanted to see in the world, glow with pride in those so, so precious moments in which he told him to take a moment to appreciate how far he’d come.
Lately, he’d started to notice a new kind of warmth in them, one he couldn’t quite place.
And he was drawn to that warmth like a moth to a beautiful lantern. Ashamed and mortified and so completely enraptured. Without him, his life would become an endless, pointless roaming in complete darkness, like it had been for years before Lord Nobunaga had showed him another way.
He wasn’t sure he could call that love.
Maybe it was just greed, and he only loved the warm castle rooms and the warm food he ate every day and the warm clothes that didn’t make his skin itch… and not the warm man who let him have all of that out of the kindness of his heart.
Maybe it was just the burning desire for the most charming man he’d ever met. To be conquered completely, to be his and his alone, to feel his warmth on his skin and his heat inside him… Lord Nobunaga would be disgusted if he knew of his indecent thoughts. So he made sure he never would. Never mind how much it killed him to do so.
Probably he was just craving that intoxicating feeling of being wanted that he hadn’t felt in years, and never this strongly. That only his lord could give him.
‘I have no intention of ever sending you away.’
That feeling of having a place to come back to, someone who wouldn’t abandon him… it made him dare want something too.
He had no real reason to be surprised when Lord Nobunaga greeted him already seated behind the go board. That’s what they had agreed to do once he would be back.
What baffled him was that his lord would consider him smart enough to play such a complicated game. He would surely be disappointed.
And a little, hidden part of him was hoping that wouldn’t be what they were going to do in his room, alone, in the middle of the night.
Ugh, what was he thinking. Lord Nobunaga had been so kind to grace him with his company and the teachings of his cunning mind, and he—
“Are you going to sit down or what?” he asked, smirking.
“Yes, my lord. Of course.”
He couldn’t put his finger on why that little table looked so intimidating, but it did.
Coming here had been a terrible idea. He should have been responsible and sent Lord Nobunaga to bed a lot earlier than… oh gods, it was so late. Well past the time when he could be trusted to be somewhat coherent.
Lord Nobunaga started explaining the rules of the game. He was still following when he showed him the board and the stones, but he was lost the moment he moved on to abstract concepts.
He hoped he’d figure things out once they’d start playing. Maybe if he proved to be a decent opponent, Lord Nobunaga would invite him again…
“The last rule is,” he announced, “every time I win, I get to ask you a question.”
He wasn’t sure that was an actual rule, but he didn’t know enough about the game to say it wasn’t.
And he knew better than to doubt Lord Nobunaga’s word. If he said it was a rule, then it was.
“Hideyoshi, be honest with me,” his lord asked gravely after what had probably been the shortest game in the history of go. “Did you let me win?”
Was he angry? He couldn’t tell.
He never could.
“Of course not. I just… I had no idea what I was doing.”
Lord Nobunaga seemed to like his answer, and smiled.
“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it with time.” Maybe he wasn’t angry after all. “Now, an easy question for an easy win: what’s your favorite food?”
To be honest, he was expecting something different from Lord Nobunaga. A zen riddle, a discussion on the meaning of life… or a deeply embarrassing question.
And yet he was staring at him with such an expectant look, like that information was vital for understanding his moral compass.
“I think it’s rice porridge.” He could’ve stopped there, but he always spoke too much when he was sleepy. Or drunk. “It’s soothing, and it tastes like home. Not my home in particular, my mother was always too tired to cook… it tastes of how a home should be, I guess. And it’s good for your health, unlike some of the stuff you eat.”
“Very interesting.” He started putting away the stones. “I’ll keep that in mind. You can go now, I’ve kept you here long enough.”
“It was an honor to learn from you, my lord.” He bowed and stood up. “Goodnight, and don’t go stealing candies.”
He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that night. Between their earlier encounter and this one, he had spent a lot of time with Lord Nobunaga, and while he couldn’t be happier about it, he was afraid he was inadvertently keeping his lord away from more important business. Or from better company.
“Hideyoshi,” his lord called when he was almost at the door, “come back whenever you want for a rematch. I can’t wait to discover something new.”
He didn’t know why someone like Lord Nobunaga would ever want to spend his precious time with someone like him.
When he’d just entered his service, he didn’t even dare hope his lord would like him. He was ready to be considered annoying, exasperating, even to be outright hated, if that meant keeping him safe and in good health.
But now… every time Lord Nobunaga praised his work he thought his heart would burst. And when he treated him like a friend, sharing stories and asking about his drawings and teaching him games, like he deserved this kindness, he could barely hold back tears.
He craved those moments like he craved air.
He wanted Lord Nobunaga to like him.
But he didnt want to want it.
Lord Nobunaga had already given him everything, expecting even more was…
You are so ungrateful, you should be ashamed.
And yet he craved even more.
A taste of lips, and just that once he wouldn’t scold him if they were too sweet.
Confessions made with the favor of the night, so that they could be forgotten the next day, and made again.
Arms holding him when the world was too cruel and air weighted like a thousand stones, and he was sure he would snap under the pressure.
Before some evil spirit had turned her into the pale shadow of who she used to be, his mother had taught him how to repair tools. Their people had been doing that for generations, she used to say. There was nothing that couldn’t be fixed, no matter how damaged it looked at first glance.
But fixing objects was easy. For broken people though, he wasn’t sure there was anything to be done.
His bones had healed and his nose had stopped bleeding and on most days he wasn’t in too much pain, but… sometimes he feared that evil spirit had claimed him too.
Maybe that was why he’d decided to keep playing go with Lord Nobunaga.
He couldn’t fool himself and say he was following an order. It couldn’t be, not when he was wearing such a warm smile.
It was because he had the absurd hope that the man who’d seen a unified country in a bunch of scattered lands could see some worth in him too. Something to hold him together, to put the pieces he’d lost back where they belonged.
Before he fell apart.
They played another game just a few days later, after a draining day of work and training.
It was another crushing defeat. Not that he was expecting any other outcome.
“Are you really sure you aren’t doing this on purpose?” his lord asked once the last stone was set. “Leading me to underestimate your abilities could prove to be an effective strategy.”
“I think you’re overestimating them instead.”
“Mh, is that so?” he smirked, crossing his arms. “Now tell me, have you made any new drawings these past few days?”
He had. But he wasn’t sure his lord would be pleased to know that he was the subject. especially since some of them were… not so appropriate.
“Not really, I didn’t have much time.”
Hideyoshi, Hideyoshi, you know what happens to liars, don’t you?
“Tell me when you do,” the corners of his lips went up again, an encouraging smile this time. “You know I like them.”
The next one was a couple weeks later. Just when he had finally accepted that his lord must have gotten tired of playing with someone as incapable as him, he called him to his room again.
“Have you ever gone to the hot springs?”
The question caught him off guard, even more than the ones before.
Lord Nobunaga was known to enjoy a visit to the hot springs quite often, and he always brought along a servant for his own protection… could it be…
“I’ve never had the chance, my lord,” he answered, trying to hide his enthusiasm. And failing.
“You look like you need it. You’ll have wrinkles before your next birthday if you keep frowning all day.” he said. “Anyone you want to come with you? I can arrange a city inspection somewhere with a nice onsen, if you’d like.”
He hoped Lord Nobunaga didn’t see how disheartened he was. But knowing himself, he was probably making some ridiculous face even a blind man could read.
And why? His lord was always so kind, and he…
Why the hell are you still crying? I’ll give you something to cry about once I tell your mother what a brat you are!
… he had everything he ever wanted, and even more. All thanks to him. It should be enough.
“As much as I appreciate your offer, I’m afraid I must decline.” He bowed deep enough that he could hide his face. “I can’t trust anyone else to guard the kitchen from your raids.”
Lord Nobunaga shook his head. “I knew you’d say that. Well, do you have anyone you want to get rid of for a few days?”
In the end, no one got to go on that little vacation. A local daimyo revolted against Lord Nobunaga (why anyone would do that, it was beyond him) and they had to put down the rebellion before any other lord got the terrible idea to imitate him.
It was an easy battle, and yet he managed to get wounded anyway.
Barely more than a scratch on his shoulder, yes, he had lost blood, but nothing to worry about.
Just enough for his lord to scold him about his recklessness for what seemed like an eternity.
He wished he would never stop. That he would never get tired of telling him when he’d done something stupid. He was afraid of what he might do otherwise.
He drank too much at the banquet that followed. He was sure he’d come to regret it in a few hours, but now he was happy that everyone was alright, that he got to eat delicious food, and that the memories were leaving him alone for the moment.
Everything was good and easy and yes, a little bit foggy, but he didn’t have anywhere he was supposed to be, so what did he care?
Why didn’t he get drunk more often?
Not much later, he got his answer.
When most of the guests had either gone back to their rooms or passed out on the table, Lord Nobunaga invited him to his quarters for another game.
It was late, and he was drunk, and if he played in this state his lord would think him even more stupid than he already did. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“If you’re so out of it after a few cups, I can’t–”
Sober him would know interrupting Lord Nobunaga was a bad idea, but drunk him didn’t.
“Eh eh, how did you know how much I drank? Were you watching me?”
The clack of a stone hitting the board saved them from a very uncomfortable silence.
“I have to admit, seeing you give head pats to anyone who had the misfortune to be within your reach was a welcome diversion.”
Uh. He guessed he had done that.
"Everyone is working so hard all the time, they deserve some praise... all the praise in the world. Yes." He played his turn, making a completely random move. He should stop talking. He should have stopped the second he entered the room. "And... and everyone's hair was so fluffy, it was so relaxing. I love touching people's hair. I always braid the maids' hair when I can, they're all so cute... like little sisters. They deserve head pats too. Everyone does. I think —"
He fell silent when he suddenly remembered that he was in the middle of a game.
"I apologize, my lord. I got carried away."
Lord Nobunaga didn't look upset by his distraction though. He was resting his chin on his hand, and wearing a small smile. Small, but so warm...
"Don't worry. You may go on, it was very engaging."
He wanted to tell Lord Nobunaga that he deserved some head pats too, lots of them. That he was sure his hair was so, so soft, and if he let him touch it, and maybe, maybe, not only that, he'd be the happiest man in the world.
But even in his current state he knew that wasn't something he could say. So he didn't.
A few more turns and the game was over.
"I feel like you've already talked enough for today, don't you think?" his lord said, still smiling. "Can you make it back to your room without falling asleep in the corridor?"
"Of course! I'm not drunk! You don't need to worry." He chuckled. “My lord, you’re almost starting to sound like me.”
His smile widened. If people saw his lord right in this moment, relaxed and amused and so radiant, they'd never dare say he was not capable of emotion.
And yet it made him ecstatic that he was the only one who was allowed to see it. It was a small consolation, but it almost made up for the things he couldn't have. Almost.
"Maybe I am."
As embarrassed as he was whenever he thought back on that evening, he couldn't help but wish things could always be like that. Easy, lighthearted, weightless. Like nothing terrible would happen if he just rested, if he took a breath and for once air didn't feel like a thick fog, if he took some steps and the ground didn't disappear from under his feet, so that he could move. Be free.
Maybe that was all happiness was. Resting for a while.
But if it was so simple, why did he feel so terrible all the time?
You're so ungrateful. You'll always be miserable.
Why, why, why?
A few nights after, he was woken by the sound of footsteps coming towards his room.
They were light and careful, the steps of someone who could move even the coldest hearts to tears with his poetic dancing, and sneaked out of his room to get candies way too often.
He wouldn't have woken up if it was anyone else.
He made his way to the door, still half asleep.
"Lord Nobunaga, what are you—"
He didn't expect him to be so close when he opened the door. He didn't expect him to be so pale, with dark circles under his eyes and tear-streaked cheeks.
"I can't sleep." In contrast with his face, his voice was as steady as ever. "Come."
They played in complete silence for a while, but he couldn't bear to see his lord so upset and not do anything about it. It was heartbreaking.
"My lord, if there's anything I can do for you..."
Lord Nobunaga shook his head, but he wouldn't give up so easily.
"Should I make some tea?"
Same reaction.
"I can go to the kitchen and bring you candies... just for tonight."
Again, same reaction. He wasn't going to lie, he was starting to get a little discouraged.
"My lord, would you rather I shut up?"
This time he was graced with a chuckle, and only then his lord shook his head again. He took it as a good sign though.
After a lord one-sided chatter, the last stone was set.
"Hideyoshi," his lord said, looking directly at him for the first time that evening. "Do you have nightmares too?"
He couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamed. He remembered having very vivid dreams when he was little, dreams about the beautiful creatures that lived in the forests, finding the courage to give some flowers to that cute girl with eyes black as a moonless night and ask her to marry him when they grew up, the delicious food an old lady had gifted him once when he'd helped her clean her house, finally meeting his father and discovering that it was all a mistake, of course he'd never abandon his beloved son.
But since the day he'd run away from home, his sleep had become... empty. Sometimes it felt like blinking for a second before it was morning again, and that was good, because even now that he had a roof over his head and a warm bed, night was still scary. Sometimes it felt like days and days of nothingness, and he woke up gasping for air, like he’d managed to get his head out of water just a second before drowning.
"No, I don't..."
But then, what else could he call that voice from his past that judged him whenever he did something wrong, the memories so vivid they made his arms go numb in fear, the fits of blind rage when he felt like someone else was moving his body, and the moments of clarity that came afterwards when he knew that every insult that had ever been thrown at him was true after all.
If he called them nightmares, he might pretend they had never really happened.
“...not when I’m asleep,” he confessed, "but they are so scary..."
A gentle hand touched his arm.
"They don't last forever," his lord said. "Sometimes they might seem endless, but they aren't. I promise."
If he shed a tear, his lord pretended not to notice.
He was so proud of Lord Nobunaga for looking for help instead of facing his fears alone like he always did. And honored that he’d chosen him of all people.
But while he used to spend his days looking forward to their next game, after the last one the excitement had been replaced by a vague sense of dread.
That last question had been a little too personal. What if he started asking about his family, his life in the tribe, the years he’d wasted surviving day by day like a wild animal… there were things he didn’t want him to know.
No, that wasn’t fair. It had taken time, but he’d come to trust Lord Nobunaga completely. He knew, no matter what he told him, he would never send him away like his previous master had done. Well, at least on good days, he knew this.
He’d even started to share some memories with him from time to time, little stories from his past. When… if he died before time, he wanted someone to know he existed. He didn’t dare think Lord Nobunaga would miss him, but he hoped he’d remember him. Maybe even fondly, but without sorrow. It was too painful to picture him sad.
The truth was, there were things he just didn’t want to have to think about.
Because they hurt too much, because there were entire periods he didn’t remember, because some memories felt like they belonged to another lifetime, and his reality might snap if he focused on them for too long.
Your… our son is always picking up fights, look how bad they beat him up.
Weeks, months, of which all he could remember was cold and hunger. An occasional encounter. A new job. Being kicked out. Fear. Of dying, of living.
He fell down a mountain path, I told him not to take it but he didn’t listen.
And even the things he could remember, how could he be sure they were true? He didn’t know where he was born, he didn’t know who his father was. If he didn’t know how his life had started, how could he claim to know anything that came after? He always called him a liar, and maybe… maybe he was right. And there was no one in the world that could give him the answers he needed.
Poor boy, he keeps making up stuff, I don’t think he knows what’s real and what’s not.
Maybe he’d never been beaten senseless by his stepfather, maybe he’d never ran away from home after he left him for dead on the side of the street, only to be forced into a life that wasn’t worth living. Maybe he’d never had to beg while hiding his face, maybe he’d never had to shield himself from kids throwing stones at him for fun, maybe he’d never stolen herbs from an old lady’s shop when a terrible disease was killing him faster than his broken mind was.
You could tell your mother, but who do you think she’d believe?
Sometimes he could almost convince himself that he’d been a samurai all along, that he’d just dreamed of those horrible years but had finally woken up.
She would be so much happier without you around.
But then one of the older vassals would make a cruel comment, or he’d eat something that reminded him of his mother, or see a man that looked exactly like a bandit he’d met years before, and the memories became too vivid not to be true.
And he wondered if he wasn’t just an outcast dreaming he was something he could never be.
Lord Nobunaga called him to his room to play that much dreaded game just a few days later.
Maybe he should have taken that offer to go to the hot springs. And never come back.
He knew he was acting irrational, childish. His lord would probably ask a simple question and be done with it. No need to be this upset. What a terrible vassal he was, too bothered by his own problems to keep his lord company when he needed it.
He knew all of this, and yet his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“Hideyoshi.” His lord’s deep voice brought him back to reality. “If you have something better to do, then go.”
“Of course not. I’m sorry.”
He took a stone to make his move, but by now he was trembling so much that it didn’t land where he wanted it to.
No, no, no. He knew how this was going to end. Either with him sobbing uncontrollably, or throwing up, or biting his hands in hope to get some feeling back. All things he didn’t want Lord Nobunaga to see. He’d already risked it once.
A few calming breaths. That was all he needed. But air couldn’t get past some point near the back of his throat…
He started coughing. It didn’t last long, but apparently it was enough to worry his lord, who was now looking at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said. “Just… nervous.”
“And why would that be?” he asked, with a strange smile he couldn’t really decipher, something between amused and sad. “I thought we were past that point.”
The game went on. He tried to relax, he wanted to, but his body didn’t respond.
And the stones hitting the board were so loud, so loud…
“Will you tell me what’s wrong if I order you to?”
He lifted his eyes to meet his lord’s.
He could have just told him. But he was scared he’d laugh like he’d done whenever he brought up some superstition he believed in.
He guessed he didn’t trust his lord as much as he thought he did.
Or he could have just walked away. Without a word, like the coward he was. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
An idea crossed his mind. He wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth trying.
“My lord,” he started, “could I ask you question? We both know I’m never going to win.”
Maybe if he was the one in control, he would stop being so afraid.
After a long silence, Lord Nobunaga spoke. “Just this once.”
But who was he kidding, he wasn’t in control of anything.
It should have been something simple. Something about konpeito, traveling, his past lovers, poetry, Haguro, obscure rules of go, anything. Anything but-
“Do you ever regret taking me in your service?”
He was as surprised as Lord Nobunaga when he heard himself ask that question.
It was too late to take it back.
“You are a valuable ally,” he replied, looking right into his eyes. “And I confess that, even though I could do without your lectures, I have come to enjoy your company as well.”
“But… you didn’t know it back then. I.. I did nothing to deserve it.”
He looked at his hands. He was clutching the fabric of his kimono. But couldn’t feel it.
“Hideyoshi, where is this going?”
He was ruining this. One of the few beautiful things in his life, and he was ruining it like he’d done with everything else before. With a different phrasing maybe, but in the exact same way.
He was ruining this. He felt it in his pulsing temples, in his tightening chest. But he couldn’t stop.
“How… how did you know I wouldn’t try to kill you again? How do you know I won’t-”
What he was hearing didn’t sound like his voice. He didn’t know who it belonged to.
“You already asked your question.” Was he… hurt? “Now make your move, it’s getting late.”
“Please, I need to know,” he begged. He hated begging.
But in those moments when he felt like someone else was moving his body, he feared himself.
“I’m unarmed. My sword is under my pillow. I couldn’t reach it in case of a surprise attack.” He didn’t even sound hurt anymore. And for the first time, Hideyoshi saw those cold eyes everyone talked about. “If you wanted to do it, you could’ve done it a thousand times already.”
“You can’t be sure!” he shouted.
The stones went flying when he hit the board with his hand. But he didn’t feel anything.
“Trust me, no one knows that better than me,” he said. “However, if you want to hear what you think of yourself coming from me, I have no intention to indulge you.”
Every reply he was ready to make died on his lips.
Usually everyone had already given up at this point.
And maybe that had been his plan all along. Making his lord give up on him too. After all, some things were easier when he had no one to disappoint.
He buried his face in his hands.
There was some movement near him, the sound of something being dragged, and when his lord next spoke, his voice was closer than before.
"Hideyoshi," he said, "do you regret it?"
No, how could he? That had been the best thing to ever happen in his life, and he would be forever grateful that he had been given a new chance when he considered himself a lost cause. If he hadn't entered his lord's service, who knew what would have been of him, where he'd be now...
He didn't even know if he'd still be alive.
That alone should be enough, but... but...
"I... I don't know."
The lump in his throat melted into a shuddering sob. And then into something unspeakable.
"Sometimes I wish you'd killed me when we met."
He didn't know how he ended up sobbing in his lord's shoulder, babbling apologies and getting gently shushed in response, letting go of all the tension of the last days. Years.
And he knew how wrong it was, but he was too tired to fight it.
"Monkey," his lord called when he finally caught his breath again, "I won't ask what's wrong, but I'll listen if you want to answer anyway."
He knew how wrong it was. Burdening others with his problems. His lord, of all people.
But he had closed his eyes, and they were both breathing so quietly. All was dark and silent, and he might pretend he was only speaking to himself, in a dream.
So he told him. Of kicks and punches, and caresses that hurt more than them. Of his truths made into lies, and that man's lies made into truths. Of fear and anger and pain, so much pain. Of calling for help and getting no answer. Of almost dying, and then almost living.
And through all of that, his lord didn't interrupt him once, and kept running his fingers through his hair with hands that not even in his wildest dreams were so gentle. He spoke only when he was sure he was done.
"You're nothing like him. Nothing," he said, so certain that one couldn't not believe him.
Hideyoshi hadn't known until that very moment, but those were the words he'd been waiting to hear for all his life.
He tightened his embrace in response. And now he could feel the soft fabric, and the warmth underneath.
In that moment, he also knew that even if his lord lost everything, he would still follow him anywhere.
"I am grateful, I really am," he said, his voice coming out as little more than a whisper. "For every single day I was given.”
"Me too." And before he had the time to ask him what he meant by that, he added, “Let’s go get some air. It helps after a nightmare.”
They sat in the garden, in the crisp night air.
It had been cloudy all day, and even now it was hard to make anything out in the sky. But every now and then a star would come out for just one moment and then immediately hide again, like a cat disappearing after it got a treat, or a shy lady shutting her door.
He had loved looking at the stars ever since he was a child, when he climbed up the highest trees he could find to have a better view, and always tried to catch them in his hands.
There was something extremely comforting in knowing that even so many years later, in a completely different place, they were still there to guide him.
Lord Nobunaga was looking up too, mouth slightly open, enraptured by the sight.
“My lord, are you enjoying the night sky?”
“Of course,” he said, “but I find it scary too. How wide the world is. How much we don’t know.”
He nodded. He tried not to think about those things so much. There was already so much he didn’t know about much simpler things that he didn’t have much energy left to ponder about the vastity of the sky. It made his head spin.
“I learned something new from the missionaries the other day though,” his lord added, suddenly enthusiastic.
“The world isn’t flat as I thought, it’s actually…” He closed his hand in a fist. “… round. And we’re… right here.”
He placed his index finger right on the side of that little world.
For someone who always laughed at his superstitions, his lord believed some strange things too.
“My lord, I’m afraid they were trying to fool you,” he said. “That’s impossible, we would fall down!”
“And yet we don’t. Isn’t that awesome?”
Like flickering stars that never died out.
And even if they did, he would still have his lord’s bright eyes to guide him.
“Yes, my lord. It truly is.”
Those eyes that burned with mischief, determination, pride, and that beautiful kind of warmth he had come to know well, and cherish.