A Simple Game
Who will win when The God of Deceit, The Tiger of Kai and the Silver Kitsune all have the same goal?
Requested by @venulus
Prompts: May I, please, request: Mitsuhide, Shingen & Motonari + “I can explain” + Only one bed + SFW
Word Count: 2400+
Warnings: None
Some stories begin with ‘once upon a time,’ and some can only begin with ‘it was a dark and stormy night.’ This story… is the latter, for it was a dark and stormy night, a night when the Gods Raijin and Fujin hurled thunder, lightning, wind, and rain at unlucky travelers. Such a night was not a night to be in the elements, and anyone caught in this sudden cloudburst sought whatever shelter they could find, be it cave, farm, or…
…an ordinary Inn at the edge of an ordinary posting town. Though the Inn wasn’t fancy, it was neat and clean, and more importantly to hapless refugees from the storm, it was warm and dry. Though not famous for its meals or for the prettiness of the tea maids, it was a perfectly acceptable place to spend the night.
And it was on this dark and stormy night, that three men were forced by the elements to take shelter at this very Inn.
This very small Inn.
This very small, crowded Inn.
This very small, crowded Inn with … only one vacancy.
Had the three men been travelling together, or had they been close friends, there might be no story to be told. But these men were not close friends, nor were they close to being friends, and the fact remained that there was only one room, with one bed in it, and three strangers who wished to have that room.
The Innkeeper was a fair woman, and in this situation, would have simply given the room to the first man to arrive. However, she had not been at the entry when the first of the strangers crossed the threshold, and none would admit to having entered after the others. Indeed, it wasn’t clear even to them who had stepped inside the building first, as they had not paid attention to anything but their desire to escape the driving rain.
At a loss, the Innkeeper led the three men to the common room, settled them around the ash pit where a kettle of steaming water was kept hot over coals, and asked if they would be willing to decide between themselves who should be given the room. With the promise of tea and hot soup to warm them up while they talked, the strangers acquiesced to this plan. Relieved, the Innkeeper promised to keep a careful watch over their saddlebags in the meanwhile.
“So, ‘friends,’ how do we go about making this decision?” asked a sun-browned man with white hair. He introduced himself to the others as Shojumaru and revealed that he was a merchant travelling from the port of Sakai. “Trial by combat? Heh heh?” He laughed a little at his own joke, but his black gloved hand stroked the hilt of his sword with an emphasis that suggested he wouldn’t mind being taken seriously.
“Dear me, you are rather bloodthirsty for a merchant, Shojumaru.” With a gleam in his amber-gold eyes, the speaker shifted position, revealing a musket at his side. “Although that certainly would be one way to eliminate the competition for the room would it not?”
The third man, a tall man with smoky eyes and red-brown hair, who had introduced himself as Shin, a pilgrim on his way to the shrine at Togakushi, spoke up. “It also would create quite the mess that this poor maid would have to clean up.” He winked at the young woman who brought their tea, “thank you, Angel,” then returned his attention to the other two. “And it would be an unpleasant death for you…”
He tilted his head toward the man with the musket, who obligingly supplied his name. “Kyubei. And why would that be?”
“In this weather, a matchlock weapon is more than likely too wet to fire. Shojumaru could cut you down before you even lit the fuse.” He took a long sip of tea, calm and ambivalent to the potential death of this Kyubei.
“Heh. And what would stop me from killing you after that, Shin?” Shojumaru seemed half-excited, half-curious about that prospect.
“My sheer force of personality,” Shin replied with a friendly smile. “Besides, we can contest the room without spilling blood. Why not simply challenge each other to a game of riddles?”
Though Shojumaru scoffed at this suggestion, Kyubei’s face held a flicker of interest. “A battle of the minds? Intriguing idea. Yes. I would be pleased to match wits with… you both.”
“If the two of you are content to play children’s games, then I’m more ‘an happy to take advantage of the easy win.” The merchant waved away the maid bearing a plate of fish stew with a grumpy gesture. “I ain’t hungry.”
After a brief consultation, it was decided that each contestant would ask one riddle. Answering the riddle correctly would yield one point, while posing an unanswerable question would net two.
In spite of his initial reluctance, Shojumaru willingly offered the first riddle. “What is the one question that you can never answer yes to?”
“Are you asleep?” Kyubei responded immediately.
“That, is a question I have never needed to ask any of my companions.” Rather than directing his response to the others, Shin slanted a wicked grin to the maid who refilled his tea, and was rewarded with a shy blush.
Kyubei ignored the byplay between Shin and the maid. “Try this one – it involves numbers, Shojumaru, so as a merchant you ought to have no problem.” He cleared his throat, and recited, “Eleven men walking by, eleven pears hanging high. Each man takes a single pear and leaves eleven hanging there. How is this so?”
But it was Shin who answered the so-called mathematical question first. “I can explain that easily. There were twenty-two pears to begin with, hanging in pairs of two. Thank you, Kyubei, I do enjoy word play.” As it was his turn to ask a question, he continued. “When I am soft, I cut through rocks, but when I am hard, you will need no locks.”
His opponents paused so long that it might have been understandable for Shin to consider himself the victor, before Shojumaru slapped his hand on the table hard enough for their cups to vibrate, causing tea to slop over the edges. “A river. The rushing water in spring will cut through the land, and when frozen, there’s no need for a lock to traverse it.”
“Indeed. And with that, my friends, we are tied.” Shin paused to withdraw a hand towel from his kimono to blot up the tea. “Shall we continue through another round?”
“Bah, once was enough for me.” Shojumaru called the maid over and requested that she bring his pack to him. Once reunited with his luggage, he rooted around until he found a deck of karuta. “You gents familiar with the Nanban game ‘Ombre’?”
Neither was, but both were willing enough to learn it, if it meant earning the right to that last bed. Although the rules were somewhat complex, the game itself was a simple enough structure of rounds that included bidding to determine the strongest suit amongst the ‘cups, coins, clubs, and swords,’ followed by highest card takes the hand. The three men each found themselves almost enjoying the bidding rounds, for, as Shin put it, “there is a rather crude strategy in determining your own cards’ strongest points and deciding whether their opposites are contained in your opponents’ hand or in the pile.”
Kyubei gazed at him over his own hand. “You display a rather deep understanding of strategy for a simple pilgrim, Shin.”
“And you’re rather cheeky for a simple courier, Kyubei.” Shin seemed unconcerned by either the implied threat from Kyubei or his own observations. With a smile, he glanced at Shojumaru. “Meanwhile Shojumaru is rather volatile for a merchant. All people are more than what they appear to be – and on a stormy night like tonight, perhaps it would be best for everyone if we take them for what they seem.”
“Are the two of you going to gab, or play the game?” Shojumaru tossed down a card that was overtaken instantly by Kyubei’s higher one.
“I believe that is … what was the term you used? Sacada?” Kyubei raked in the pile of stones the group was using as currency. “I also believe, Shojumaru, that you are out of markers, and therefore have lost.”
With a scowl, Shojumaru gathered up the deck. “In that case, I’ll leave you two to fight over the room.” He called for the maid to find his geta and mino, as he shouldered his pack. “There must be another Inn nearby that will have a room.”
With a mocking bow, he took his leave of them. Once he was safely outdoors, Shojumaru grinned widely and directed a laugh to the skies, for though Shojumaru was indeed a name from his childhood, his true name was Mouri Motonari, the God of Deceit. Motonari was satisfied with the events of the night. He’d tested the skills of two of the era’s most renowned spymasters, obtained insight into how they operated, and escaped without them learning his identity.
Yes, it had been a good night.
Back inside the Inn…
“He lost on purpose,” Shin told Kyubei, for he had kept track of the cards played.
“I figured as much.” Kyubei glanced around the room, nodding to another man, a man with long dark hair. The dark haired man nodded back, then headed out into the storm. “Hm. I wonder if the proprietor keeps a shogi set on hand… unless you’d be willing to give up the room to a simple courier.”
“I would not.” Shin signaled the Innkeeper. “Although playing shogi amounts to much the same, for I am in no way a master of that game.” Even with that disclaimer, he was willing enough to play, and as the Innkeeper did keep a game board on hand, the two moved to a low table to continue their competition.
Kyubei tossed five tokins onto the board – enough landed promotion side up to designate him the first player. As both men stuck to standard moves to open the board, they were able to make idle conversation. “You sent your man out after him?” Shin didn’t identify the ‘him,’ but Kyubei correctly interpreted the question to mean Shojumaru.
“Dear me, who do you take me for? We’ve already established that I’m only a simple courier.” At Shin’s disbelieving look, Kyubei added, “I imagine that someone interested in the activities of this Shojumaru would be extremely incompetent if he did not have the man followed.” Kyubei advanced the silver general. “There could be any number of interested parties out there following him… ninjas… mitsumono…?”
“One could make that assumption.” It would be an incorrect assumption; the mitsumono were actually tailing ‘Kyubei’s’ man. As Shin did not care to continue that line of conversation, he picked up a shogi piece and turned it over and over in his hand. “I find it interesting that the only two characters in shogi who cannot be promoted are the king and the gold general, for the king cannot become a God, and the gold general… cannot become a king.”
“I find it interesting that a man so willing to philosophize about the nature of a wooden tile, is indeed not very good at this game.” Kyubei studied the board. “Unlike Shojumaru, I can tell that you are making a concerted attempt to win here. You are not even close to succeeding.” He shook his head and tsked. “I truly hoped to find a competent opponent in you.”
Unconcerned, Shin attempted to wrest the tide of the game back to himself. “I did tell you that in Shogi, I am no more than an amateur.”
“So you did. I hoped it was a lie to lure me in.” Kyubei’s castle formation closed in on Shin’s king.
“Would I do that?” Shin winced as one of his pawns was taken off the board. “As it happens, I find there are too many other things that need doing ahead of practicing a game, even one that involves complicated strategy.” Shin took another long moment to admire the tea maid – and she took a much longer one to admire him back. “Why play a strategy game, when so much of life… love… war… is already strategic?”
“Because,” Kyubei replied, as he picked up the rook, “it’s never simply a game. One can learn so much about an opponent by facing them across the board. Are they ruthless? Are they focused? Who are they willing to sacrifice to achieve victory? Who do they try to save?” He gestured to the game board, where Shin’s pawns were mostly all still in play, alive, unsacrificed. Then he placed the rook before the king. “Checkmate.”
Without waiting for Shin to confirm, Kyubei stood up. “I believe I have won the right to the room.” He bowed to Shin, then followed the waiting maid up to the second floor, to claim his prize of a room and a bed for the night. As he made himself comfortable on the futon, he smiled to himself. Yes, it had been a profitable evening. One of his spies was making headway on the identity of this Shojumaru, he had bested the Tiger of Kai in a game of shogi, and more importantly, he’d obtained insight into how his opponent thought and operated. With that happy thought, the Silver Kitsune, whose name was not Kyubei, but Mitsuhide, dropped off to sleep.
Ah, but do not worry about the man Mitsuhide called the Tiger of Kai. While Shin had kept the other two men occupied with the games, the Innkeeper, who was one of his mitsumono, had carefully searched their belongings. Nor was he going to be turned away without a soft place to sleep, for the maid invited him to spend the remainder of the night in her bed. Yes, he too was pleased with the evening. Not only did he have a warm bed and an enthusiastic companion, but he’d gained insight into how his opponents thought and operated. With that happy thought, the man, whose name was not Shin, but Shingen, dropped a kiss on the forehead of the well-satisfied maid, cuddled her close, and drifted into sleep.
And so, while the tale of the game between The Silver Kitsune, The Tiger of Kai, and the God of Deceit began ominously, not with a ‘once upon a time,’ but ‘a dark and stormy night,’ it ended happily enough for all involved parties.
…especially the maid.
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