Kanbe’e’s brow did not so much as twitch, yet internally, he marveled at Fujitaka’s razor-sharp intuition.

  If he were seen through and rejected here, all his plans would turn to ash. Kanbe’e lowered his eyes slightly, sharpening every nerve to derive the optimal "answer."

  Two, perhaps three seconds. In that interval—no more than an instant to an ordinary man—Kanbe’e reconfigured the web designed to ensnare Fujitaka. He did not look up; instead, with an elegant hand, he tenderly traced the "mad-blooming" flower he had placed earlier, as if cherishing it.

  "Mr. Fujitaka... Such terrifying 'speculation.' Pray, keep it locked within your heart. I am but a humble strategist, wishing only for the end of this ceaseless era of chaos."

  Kanbe’e’s voice was as soft as a spring breeze, devoid of any trace of malice. But in the next heartbeat, the atmosphere of the tea room shifted violently. Kanbe’e raised his clouded eyes and, for the first time, fixed them directly on Fujitaka with a piercing, soul-striking intensity.

  "However, Mr. Fujitaka... have you perhaps forgotten one thing? His Lordship’s (Nobunaga’s) eyes are already glaring at Mr. Mitsuhide’s back. The only reason Mr. Mitsuhide has endured so many humiliations is because he had a friend like you... But His Lordship’s patience has run dry. Sooner or later, Mr. Mitsuhide’s ruin is inevitable... In truth, I even manipulated the Shikoku affair to make it easier for the 'Kikyo' (Bellflower) to stain the mountains crimson."

  Kanbe’e leaned closer until his face was near Fujitaka’s ear, his voice making a sound like a slithering serpent. The lamp’s flame flickered violently, casting their shadows onto the wall like a pair of gargantuan monsters.

  "Recall the fate of Nagamasa Azai, who once prioritized righteousness. Or Hisahide Matsunaga, who vanished into the flames of an explosion. And the retainers of Murashige Araki, whose severed heads were lined up along the riverbank... You have seen these ends with your own eyes."

  Fujitaka’s throat constricted.

  "If I were to leave this tea room now and write a single note stating, 'Mr. Mitsuhide harbors treasonous intent, and Mr. Fujitaka is poised to join him'... then Mr. Mitsuhide, the Hosokawa clan, and even the Kokin Denju (Secret Teachings of Ancient Poetry) which you prize more than your own life... would all vanish in a single night, leaving not a speck of dust behind. His Lordship is a man who kills on mere suspicion. You know this better than anyone."

  "A-Are you threatening me... Me?!"

  The killing intent of Kanbe’e’s hidden agents reached its zenith. Poison-tipped blowdarts were aimed squarely at Fujitaka’s throat. Kanbe’e spoke as if to restrain that lethal aura.

  "Perish the thought."

  Kanbe’e prostrated himself so deeply his forehead pressed against the floor. He looked the image of a loyal subject serving his master. Yet, the voice that emerged from his bowed form was as cold as if it echoed from the depths of the earth.

  "This is no 'threat.' It is a service offered by Kanbe’e Kuroda... Mr. Fujitaka, if you deliver your 'voice,' Mr. Mitsuhide will be etched into history as a 'savior.' We shall support him and together create a world where blood no longer flows. And of course, the Kokin Denju shall be preserved.

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  But if you remain silent and abandon us... you will do nothing but watch from the sidelines as Mr. Mitsuhide is executed and his clan is eradicated. Nay, the House of Hosokawa too shall be consumed by the same fires of complicity."

  "............"

  "Which path represents 'sincerity' toward your friend? Which path is the 'logic' that protects the Kokin Denju?"

  Fujitaka felt the strength drain from his entire body. Kanbe’e’s words were as smooth and beautiful as silk, yet within them lay a death sharper than any masterwork blade he had ever seen.

  (This man... he did not become an ogre in that dungeon... He has returned as a 'monster' capable of deceiving even the gods and Buddhas...)

  Kanbe’e did not miss the sound of Fujitaka’s will snapping. To deliver the final blow, he invoked the name of one man.

  "Furthermore... Mr. Fujitaka, are you familiar with the name of the strategist Hanbe’e Takenaka?"

  "H-Hanbe’e...Takenaka...?"

  Fujitaka whispered the name, his face twisted as if he had bitten into something bitter.

  "The man who once took a castle in Mino with fewer than twenty men... A reckless act, not for personal greed, but to correct his lord's behavior. Among both the warrior class and the court nobles of the capital, he is still spoken of as a strategist 'as brilliant as he was terrifying'..."

  Kanbe’e’s brow twitched. He gripped his cane with his right hand so hard his knuckles turned white.

  "Indeed... Therefore, this is no mere malice of Kanbe’e alone... It is the final legacy of Hanbe’e, who once staked his very life to entrust the future of this nation to the vessel that is Lord Hideyoshi."

  In the dim tea room, Kanbe’e’s eyes emitted an eerie light bordering on madness.

  "On his deathbed, Hanbe’e left me these words: 'A strategist exists not to make his master win, but to bring an end to the era of chaos.' He fell while his ambitions were only half-realized, but his soul still wields the commander’s fan within me. Therefore, hear these words of Kanbe’e as the words of my master, Hanbe’e Takenaka."

  A brief silence followed.

  "I... I understand..."

  A voice like dry sand escaped Fujitaka’s lips. It was a total defeat.

  "I shall meet Mitsuhide. Kanbe’e, as you say... I shall deliver the 'medicine'."

  Remaining bowed, Kanbe’e’s lips curled slightly upward. It was the smile of a beast in the darkness, having just brought down its prey.

  "I am profoundly gratified by your wise judgment... Please convey one more thing to Mr. Mitsuhide: 'When the Bellflower suddenly stains the mountain crimson, we in Bitchu shall move swiftly to secure Mr. Mitsuhide’s rear.' With this, there will be no enemy left to strike Mr. Mitsuhide from behind..."

  When Kanbe’i finally raised his face, not a trace of his previous coldness remained. Instead, there was only a gentle smile, as if he were merely admiring a single flower.

  "In due time... the hour and location for the Bellflower to move shall be relayed by my Ninjas. Until then, pray do not let down your guard... Now, I must return to Bitchu and begin my own 'preparations for the rain'."

  Kanbe’e withdrew once, then slowly stood up with the help of his cane. He gave a deep, flawless bow, devoid of any shadow of doubt. Then, without a word, he silently exited the tea room.

  The sound of Kanbe’e’s footsteps and the irregular thumping of his cane echoed through the room where Fujitaka sat trembling. Eventually, the sounds faded, and silence returned.

  Fujitaka tried to pick up his tea bowl, but his fingers shook so violently he could not even take a sip. It was not just the terror of being threatened. His soul was quaking at the fact that he had placed his own hand upon the gears of a gargantuan rebellion that would overturn the very foundations of Japan.

  The killing intent of the Ninjas surrounding the tea room vanished like mist clearing. Unbeknownst to anyone, the great Fujitaka sat paralyzed, unable to stand for quite some time...

  Mitsuhide was never included in the "kin" whom Kanbe’e promised to protect. Fujitaka Hosokawa would only learn that cruel truth the day after the Incident at Honno-ji.

  Produced and written by a Japanese author, rooted in authentic Japanese history. Translated with the assistance of Gemini (AI).