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Aleria realized, after the battle against Yoshiaki, that there was no future for Mitsuhide if she kept him. He would try and try, for years, to balance loving her and fighting for the future of their country. He would fight, she would be used against him, and he would be forced to fight harder and harder to save both her and peace. He would fight. And fight.
And he would die.
Swallowing the thoughts, she gave him her best smile, utilizing every bit of the training he’d given her, she hid her feelings from him, burying her face in his chest and inhaling sharply. That final inhale would have to be enough for the rest of her life.
She made love to him once more, giving him everything she had. It was a flurry of passion and pain and she blamed her tears on the fear of being killed. And Mitsuhide…her sweet, brilliant Mitsuhide… he bought it. That she could fool him so easily just drove home her point. He was blinded by her. And that blindness would lead to his doom. And that fate was one she could not abide for him. He was the one true love of her life.
As soon as it was over, their alliance with Yoshimoto ended, but not before Yoshimoto had pulled her aside. His plan had been to tell her he loved her and wish her well, but as soon as they were alone, she broke. Aleria’s tearful confession ripped at his heart, and he cupped her cheek, swallowing his feelings as he asked, “What can I do?”
In five minutes, they had a well-enough formed plan. Yoshimoto tried not to pay attention to how soft she was as she hugged him tight. Then he sent her on her way. He’d see her again soon.
The travel back to Azuchi was wonderful. She’d asked if she could ride on Mitsuhide’s horse with him, needing to feel close to him for a little longer before she left, and he’d readily agreed. After her near death experience, he hadn’t wanted her far from him anyway. They cuddled, laughed, kissed, and enjoyed every moment of each other’s company as if it was to be their last moment.
Only one of them knew that to be the truth.
Nobunaga had a banquet planned for their return. It was both a “welcome back Mitsuhide” party and a “ding dong the shogun’s dead” party. Mitsuhide would be the man of honor and unable to leave until everyone had had a chance to pour a drink for him. It was the perfect opportunity.
To prepare, she’d thrown on her running shorts and tank top, the pair she’d been wearing when she arrived in the Sengoku era. They were short and stretchy and fit perfectly under her kimono. If things went badly, she could escape by running. She was confident in this, at least.
For the first twenty minutes of the banquet, she sat at Mitsuhide’s side. She watched him lovingly, a small sad smile on her face that she hadn’t been able to help remove. When he finally had a moment to ask her what was wrong, her heart began thundering in her chest. She managed to make herself shrug,
“I think I must be coming down with something. I’m going back to my room to rest for a while. Enjoy your party, okay?”
He looked like he would protest, obviously intent to return with her, but she silenced him with a kiss that had Masamune and Nobunaga wolf whistling. She offered him another smile.
“I’m alright. Stay here and let them celebrate you. You did an incredible thing.”
“We did,” Mitsuhide corrected.
She stared at him for one more moment, and finally he began to see through the cracks in her façade. “Are you certain you’re alright little one? I can come back with you and we can lay together.”
The dark in his eyes suggested laying together wouldn’t be all they did. Despite everything, she blushed.
“I love you, Mitsuhide,” she said softly. A goodbye he didn’t realize was happening.
“And I love you, little one.”
“Say my name,” she asked softly, and his eyes turned molten gold.
“Aleria.”
With a smile, she left the banquet hall and kept a slow, sure pace toward her room. She stayed inside only long enough to leave the letter she’d written for Mitsuhide. Then she meandered back out through he garden, taking her time right up until she reached the road that led to the gates. Then she darted toward them.
Down, down, down she went. Azuchi’s market slowly came into view. Running in her kimono was near impossible, and her legs burned while she panted. Down, down, down she went.
She passed the tea house where she’d first felt that spark with Mitsuhide. She passed the clothier he’d taken her to, where she’d first explained about her love of clothes-making. This street she’d run down toward Hideyoshi’s manor when she’d thought Mitsuhide was a traitor. Memories passed through her mind along the way. Their first real kiss. Teaching her to ride a horse. The first time he’d made her come apart on his fingers. The moment she thought she would die and have no life left to live with the man she loved.
Such wonderful thoughts before she’d realized they’d lead to his death.
She reached Yoshimoto and the horses he’d brought for them, and she was grateful that he kept his face expressionless, except for his typical serenity. She’d moved immediately toward one of the horses, but came to a stop when his hand gently touched hers. A knowing look crossed his features.
“Are you certain of this choice? There is no real going back. He will either come after you to take you home, or to kill you.”
She knew those were two real possibilities, but her hope was that he would move on, focus on his goals. She might be naïve, but she had to believe in that outcome.
“I’m sure.”
They’d put Azuchi behind them long before Mitsuhide ever left the banquet.
When he finally made his way to check on her, there was a sense of foreboding. He’d felt it multiple times over the past several days, and could not explain where it had come from. Now, as he approached her room, where no candle was lit, it hit him again. Had he missed something? Had he forgotten some detail that mattered?
Things pieced themselves together in his brain as he slid open her door and noticed immediately that, if she had entered here, it hadn’t been for long. His eyes slid around the room, his heart pounding wilding, looking for any small bit of evidence to indicate where she was or what had happened.
There.
He strode inside, walking directly toward the letter laying on the small desk in the corner. He knew, before opening it, that his mouse had left him. He could feel the black hole in his heart swallowing him up as he opened the letter, noting the tears staining several words.
“My love,
This is probably the hardest thing I’ll ever do. Harder than being in the shogun’s presence and being degraded so. Harder than standing in front of Yoshiaki while you raised your Tanegashima at him. My heart is yours, Mitsuhide. Please don’t for a moment believe otherwise. But I am gone. I will not return. My being in your life will lead to your death, for you love me so much that you will constantly put yourself in jeopardy to protect me. Couple that with your goals for peace? You cannot sustain this path without getting hurt or worse. And I won’t let myself be the reason you die.
I will hold every moment we’ve shared deep in my heart, and never forget them. You are the great love of my life, and no amount of distance will ever change that.
Don’t come for me. Don’t look for me. My one wish is that you complete your goals, your wishes for the future of Japan.
I love you, forever.
Aleria.”
Mitsuhide didn’t know when he’d hit his knees, but as he finished the final lines and looked up, he realized his knees were throbbing from the force in which he’d fell to them. He gasped for breath, crumpling the letter against his chest as he pressed his hand against the pain there. A void now existed that had only so recently been filled by her. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.
In trying to save his life…. She’d destroyed his heart.