A Time Traveller's Guide To Feudal Japan

Here they were, speaking so grandly about seeking revenge against the Daimyo of their province, yet they were so far from achieving that, it was almost laughable. Currently, it would not be strange should one of them to keel over and die – such was the shape they were in.

Their first priority was of course food, to give them the energy to recover, but they also needed supplies to close their wounds. Alcohol would do.

It was as he thought of all that they needed that he started to miss the great amount of coin they had back in their tents. But now that was long gone, and they had to make do with what was around them.

"There’s a stream south from here, Miura. I spied a farmhouse near it too."

Jikouji seemed to be able to tell what Gengyo was thinking and offered a solution to their problems.

"Mmm, good. We’ll see what we can acquire from there."

"About time."

Ii complained. He was thoroughly starved. He was one of the men Gengyo had only recently been acquainted with, as he had served in the yari ashigaru unit beforehand. He was in his mid-twenties and had a respectable amount of lean muscle on his arms. But his most defining characteristic was that mouth of his. Despite the fact that they did not know each other very well, he had no problem voicing his complaints.

He had two friends that had survived alongside him. One was Honjou – a tall man, with sunken eyes and a bald head. His appearance was most certainly odd, especially considering how thin he was. It was rather startling.

And then his other friend stood smaller than he, with broad shoulders and a messy top of hair. He went by the name of Enya.

"What if they’re not willing to give us anything?"

Rokkaku asked, a little anxiously, clearly wary of getting his hopes up.

"Then we will take it, Rokkaku. From now on, we are our own people, and must care for ourselves. If someone stands in our way, then we will tear them down."

It was a cold thing to say, but they did not have the liberty of playing nice men. Their survival was more important than manners.

The men nodded with approval. It was a circulating idea between them – it was the whole reason they had got into this mess in the first place. If they focused only on their people, then they would grow strong, and not be at risk of betrayal.

They walked slowly down the hill. Sasaki ended up having to carry Kitajo because of the state of the boy’s leg, but soon they arrived.

For a farmhouse, it was remarkably clean, and had a freshly changed thatched roof, whilst the walls were of a whitewashed or varnished wood.

A crowd of a dozen cattle chomped down on the long grass, regarding them lazily as they passed.

Gengyo took note of their presence. They would be able to lead one away to have a supply of meat as they walked – at least until they killed it.

He wandered around the back, where he assumed there might be a storage area. The trail of hay leading from it told tales of its presence. He hoped they might be able to take what they needed without directly confronting the farmer of the land, and potentially having to harm him in the process.

His efforts in that regard were proved to be futile, as when they rounded the corner, they saw a young women at work, piling bundles of straw into her arms.

They stopped, and glanced at each other, wondering how they might proceed. The weapons they had drawn were quickly sheathed.

It did not take her long to notice that they were there, as Gengyo prepared himself mentally and physically for her screams of terror.

"Ah!.."

She yelped, shocked at seeing so many men suddenly appear behind her. She met Gengyo’s eyes, flinching at their coldness. Then she looked toward the rest, her eyes widening as she saw the nature of their injuries.

"By the gods..."

She whispered.

"Hello we would-"

The young man began, as he was about to state what they needed to be given so that they might leave the farmhouse in peace.

"You poor... Those injuries... It hurts, right? Please sit down, okay? I’ll go fetch some things."

Startled by that reaction, he could not formulate a reply, and soon she had disappeared inside the house. He sighed lightly. It seemed she would be calling her father or brother for help. It would have been better if they could have avoided a fight, but it was not as though they’d back down from one either.

"Grandmaaa! Grandmaaa? Do you know where I left the sake? I also need some bandages."

"Sake and bandages? What on earth do you need that for?"

"Uhm... Uhm... Fokoro has hurt herself on the rocks again... I need to close the wound before it gets any worse."

"My goodness, again? Even for a cow, she ought to have more brains."

"She’s clever in different ways!"

The young woman retorted, leaving the house with her arms full of the supplies. Through the open window they had heard the conversation, and not only did she not tell anyone that they were there, but she also lied to cover them.

She came back, her cheeks red from all the rushing.

"Sorryyy! I’m back. Okayyyy, who wants to go first?"

"How about you?"

She grabbed Kitajo’s arm, and the lad blushed despite himself. She had a pretty enough face, and Gengyo wagered he had never been with a woman.

"Lay him down on the hay. It’s nice and soft, see?"

She spoke to Sasaki, before jumping on top of a pile of hay to demonstrate it’s comfortable qualities.

Sasaki did as he was told, feeling as though he was being spoken to by his mother.

Kitajo looked in Gengyo’s direction for guidance. It was all happening rather fast, and he didn’t recall any of them giving their consent. But she has a kindness about her that made her difficult to talk to.

In the first place, the majority of them could barely comprehend what was going on. They had come here expecting to fight and steal for their supplies, and here this girl was, not even knowing who they are, offering to treat their wounds.

She inspected Kitajo’s wound a little further, tutting lightly at the state of it.

"You should really take better care of yourself, y’know? If boys would just slow down a little bit, then you wouldn’t end up in a such a state."

There were certainly flaws within that argument, but who would dare name them? Her touch was gentle upon his skin, as she pondered how to deal with the injury.

"There’s something inside... what’s that?"

"A bullet."

Gengyo informed her, finally having the opportunity to speak.

She looked up at him with wide eyes. She’d never seen a gun, but she’d heard about them, and understood what a bullet was. From her understanding though, it could not possibly have caused such an injury.

"A bullet? Ow... We’re going to need to get this out, okay?"

Kitajo nodded as he looked up at her, and she smiled kindly, looking for some to take it out with. She ended up disappearing inside the house once more, before returning with a small, clean knife.

The young lad looked at the blade, and already had his teeth gritted for the pain that was to come.

"This is going to hurt... But be strong, okay? We’ll have you fixed up in no time."

He nodded twice, once for himself, once for her as the knife neared his wound. They all watched, feeling pity for the lad, and Rokkaku and Jikouji moved forward to hold him down, knowing that it would be necessary.

She began with the knife chasing after the bullet, and he let out a pained scream that he quickly muffled as he closed his mouth.

"AHahhh..."

She looked at him gently, understanding.

"Almost got it..."

"There!"

A compressed metallic ball fell out from his wound, and she lifted it up to show him proudly.

"See! It was okay, wasn’t it?"

Kitajo looked as though he was about to faint, but still nodded as though in agreement with what she said.

"We’ll just use some sake to clean it up a bit, and then you’ll be all healthy again!"

Before he could even mentally prepare himself for the stinging the sake was sure to bring, she had already poured it into his wound.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

This time he certainly could not hold back his cry of pain. It was too aggressive, too stabbing, for any man to take it lightly.

"Good job!"

She praised him, as he breathed heavily, trying his best to deal with the aftershocks of the pain.

"Oh... I better start a fire... We need to seal this up quickly before it gets dirty again."

She began setting rows of kindling in place.

"Ah, allow me. There are wounded souls in need of healing."

Ii came over, asserting all of the charm that he could muster, as he gently stripped the kindlling from her hands, and smiled like a prince. The rest of the men cringed, well aware of what he was up to. But she was not swayed by his charm in the least, and merely smiled and gave a hearty "okay!" before returning to see Kitajo.

He looked a little miffed at his efforts failing, whilst the rest held condescending smiles. Not only had he not suceeded in swaying her heart, but he had also been laden with a job in the process.

"Damn it..."

He muttered quietly to himself, as he bent over and set up the fire, despite all the pain it caused.

"Take off your armour okay? I need to see your chest."

"W-what?"

Kitajo asked breathlessly, surprised by her suddenly asking him to undress.

"It hurts on your chest too, doesn’t it?"

"Ah... uhm... right."

Slowly, with her help, he removed his armour, and opened his kimono baring his chest.

"Lucky bastard..."

Ii cursed, seeing her fingers dance on his skin, inspecting each of the wounds.

"So many..."

She said sadly.

"You’re a brave boy."

She said with so much honesty that even some of the older men almost collapsed.

’...Is it too late for me to marry such a sweet thing?’

Rokkaku pondered, watching her go about her work.

The fire was soon roaring, and Kitajo’s screams rang out. They managed to get most of the bullets out of his chest, though some had collapsed, and been reduced to patches of shrapnel, which made the farm girl’s job a deal more difficult. But, within the span of a few hours, they had all his wounds cleaned and sealed, and he was covered in bandages, keeping them in place.

"No running around, okay? The wounds need to stay closed."

She instructed, like a nurse might.

As they were finishing up and getting Kitajo dressed, an old woman came out with a tray piled high with rice balls, and few slabs of cooked beef on the side.

"Ah! Grandma? How did you know..."

The old woman rolled her eyes.

"He’s screaming loud enough to wake the whole valley up, how could I not hear? Silly girl. There was no need to lie to me."

Her gaze softened as she finished her sentence. Clearly, she too found comfort within the girl’s kind nature.

"Alright, you dirty old men! Get your hands off my granddaughter and get yourself some grub!"

She commanded, setting the plate the food down on a bench nearby.

Gengyo barely knew how to react to all this goodwill. It was an eternal problem that faced every human being. Within the world, you would often find the worst sc.u.m, and wish to turn away from everyone. But then, you would also find people like these, people with such unfathomable goodwill, that compared to the rest they could be labelled as saints. People who were worth fighting for.

//Author’s Note

Bonus chapter because of 200 gifts!! Thanks!!

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