They seated themselves upon springy tatami, legs crossed and stoic in face. There was a chilling breeze that day. It whipped in through the open temple doors and numbed their hands. The tea was welcome then. They clasped the cups of steaming liquid in their hands and took delicate sips, refilling themselves reservedly from the bronze teapot.

The monk had left them to their business, and climbed down the mountain. He had bowed and smiled knowingly and then disappeared into the forest with his weight leaning heavily upon a knarled willow walking stick.

"Where's Oda?" Morohira complained, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. As much as they wanted to scold him and urge that he quiet down, he did have a point.

"Before sundown, that was the agreed-upon time, was it not?" Togashi asked Gengyo, looking out at the sky. It was tainted with orange. The sun had long since begun its setting. Soon night would fall, and Oda was nowhere to be seen.

Gengyo was tapping his fingers on the table, a look of discontent on his face. This was a slight, he realized. There was no way a man as precise as Oda would be late by such a large margin. Akiko grasped his hand within hers and held it tightly, sharing a look, attempting to calm him.

The guards he had brought with him were looking his way as well. They all were. The long table that had been prepared specifically for this purpose sat half empty, and it fell to him how he was to deal with that.

He turned his eyes to his drink, and lifted it gently with one hand towards his lips, sipping thoughtfully. It was for times like this that cigarettes were invented, he thought to himself. A cigarette was perfect for brooding.

He emptied it, and placed the cup back down on the wooden table with an audible click, announcing his decision. "We will give it until the light of the sun goes out and then we will leave. If Oda does not arrive before then, it will be safe to consider him an enemy."

The men nodded uncomfortably. It seemed these days that the enemy was on all fronts. Their hands fell to their blades thoughtfully. Even if Oda were to come, it might be easier to cut him down there and then.

"That man is far from straightforward, it would seem," Yamagata commented, reaching inside his kimono beneath his armour and drawing forth a bamboo canteen. "We have no allies, whether he arrives or not," he continued, pulling the stopper and pouring a foreign liquid into the mixture with his tea. Its odour wafted into the air. A strong and dry odour – sake without a doubt. "But, I do not think that should worry you, Miura-dono. The honourable Takeda Shingen was willing to fight the entire world should it turn against him, and we believed him capable. I have long since been prepared for an impossible war."

"But is it the wise thing to do?" Togashi asked. The bearded man was seated with his arms crossed, right by Yamagata's side. He was observing his partaking of the alcohol with a raised eyebrow, but it was impossible to tell whether he was intrigued or disapproving.

"Oh, I wonder. But in war, everything is uncertain. We must instil order where we are capable, otherwise, we cannot confront the chaos. To that end, I believe an army with a smaller force is stronger, if it knows that force is truly available to it. You cannot do meaningful calculations without knowing your true numbers," Yamagata replied, holding the canteen towards him, offering him a taste.

Togashi shook his head firmly, but Morohira noticed the exchange and extended his hand forward, "I'll take some," he said, prying it from his fingers and pouring a cup of his own.

"Having the whole world as my enemy is all well and good, if I can defeat them one by one. It would not be difficult to starve us of our resources as we currently stand. The Oda, the Uesugi, the Takeda remnants, the Imagawa remnants, the Hojo, if they ally themselves against us instead, I am not confident we could defeat them,�� Gengyo said measuredly.

"There are wars with swords and there are wars with words," Jikouji agreed, "but as you stand now, having all our enemies on one field might just prove beneficial." His voice was flat, but it was possible to tell the slightest hint of a jest from it, yet Gengyo could not summon a smile.

"I would not tempt that fate. Once we instil order in the Takeda lands, I would be far more confident, perhaps even bold. But until then, a certain degree of meekness is required. Oda knows that, therefore he takes advantage," Gengyo replied.

They fell into silence once more, with Morohira looking up and slowly sliding the canteen back to Yamagata, not daring to interrupt the silence.

The mood was heavy and the breeze was cold and regular. Suddenly, Morohira spoke, "do you here that?" He asked, but the party was in no mood for jokes.

"If this is a jest- " Togashi began, but stopped midsentence, he could hear it too. Drumming out a sound behind the breeze there was unmistakeably the sound of hooves. Plenty of them. Far more than a simple riding party. Their force sent tremours through the floor.

Gengyo was on his feet and at the top of the steps in but a few moments, looking down through the long grass and trees to see what had come to greet them.

An army. Two or three thousand strong, all of them mounted. Hundreds of flags. A red kanji character on a purple background. Kenshin's standard.

"…Impossible," Jikouji breathed. "That can't be... the Uesugi shouldn't be able to come far west."

"No, they certainly shouldn't be," Gengyo agreed calmly, his eyes hard and his hand falling to his sword.