The Cage of Cold Moonlight: A Modern Woman Reborn in Warring States Discovers the True Face Behind a Ruthless Warlord - The Morning When the Demon’s Eyes Shook

At dawn, the light steeped through the paper screen in pale, watercolor washes. The air in the Hagi Room was cold. In the mountain castle, mornings arrived early and deep—nothing like the ambiguous half-light that filtered through the gaps between Tokyo's office buildings. Here, the dawn broke through genuine darkness, splitting it open. That was the kind of light it was. Asahina Tsuki had learned this over the past few days. Within the quilted bedding, Tsuki lay with her eyes open. She had not slept. Not at all. Deep crimson eyes kept surfacing behind her eyelids, repeating themselves. That garden's white sand. Quartz grains that gleamed pale blue under moonlight. And—the back of the man who had sat on that veranda. A quiet back. A terribly lonely back. (Was that... Himura Yoshimasa?) The Tougetsu Garden—a dry landscape garden positioned at the center of Kasumi Castle's inner keep. Composed of nothing but white sand and black stone, not a single blade of grass, not one flower. Oyo had told her late last night. Once, this garden was said to have held more flowers than any other in the castle. But now it was as it appeared. No one spoke of the reason. The weight of *Oku Gohatto*—the rule forbidding women of the inner quarters from venturing to the castle's front side—pressed down on her chest now with fresh force. Violators faced execution. When Oyo had spoken those words, Tsuki's hands had trembled. She was certain of it. But. Those eyes. That thing which had flickered—just for an instant—in the depths of those deep crimson pupils. She could not shake it from her mind. The paper screen slid open without a sound. "You appear to be awake, my lady." It was Oyo. The same mouse-gray kimono as always, white apron, black hair bound tightly. And—the same expression, utterly devoid of emotion. Yet her eyes seemed subtly different this morning. They swept across Tsuki's entire form quickly, like a single lick, then her gaze fell away. "An order has come down for you to appear at the Omote Shoin—the hall where the lord and his retainers conduct their affairs—this day." The Omote Shoin. Tsuki pushed herself upright on the bedding. (They found out about last night after all.) She had known. To have been so close in the Tougetsu Garden—there was no way she could have gone unnoticed. The only question was when and how it would come to light. Oyo retrieved a kimono from the clothing stand and spread it silently before Tsuki. It was a deeper indigo than yesterday's, slightly more formal. As Oyo helped her change, Tsuki glanced at the older woman's profile. Her expressionlessness remained unchanged. But the fingers tying her obi carried slightly too much force—or was it her imagination? The obi cinched a touch too tight, and Tsuki held her breath in a small, sharp intake. "...Is it not a little tight?" Oyo's hands stilled. One beat. "My apologies." The obi loosened. Tsuki said nothing. A short while after they began walking down the connecting corridor, Oyo spoke in a low voice, still facing forward. "Say nothing unnecessary." Just one sentence. Tsuki did not break her stride. Yet she felt the weight beneath those brief words—the fact that Oyo was genuinely concerned for her—settle into her very core. (This person... is worried about me.) An emotion sinking like a stone to the bottom of water. Nothing showed on the surface, but something was certainly there. The transparent distance that had existed between Tsuki and her attendant seemed to have narrowed just slightly in this corridor. Light spread ahead down the hallway. Tsuki conjured the deep crimson eyes from last night once more in her chest, then continued walking. ──────── The Omote Shoin was vast. Forty tatami mats. Morning light pouring through the south-facing screens carved the wooden floor into sharp white sections. The air was different from the inner quarters. Heavy. There was a compressed silence peculiar to places crowded with people. The assembled retainers all turned to look at Tsuki. —Looked, or rather, appraised her. Cold gazes that weighed and measured. Gazes tinged with curiosity. Tsuki kept her eyes fixed forward while feeling her knees tremble. At the seat of honor, a man sat with perfect composure. A long body wrapped in black *hitare*—the formal dress of the warrior class. Black hair of medium length with crimson streaks woven through. A shallow sword scar on his right cheek. And—deep crimson eyes, narrow and vertical. The back from last night now faced her directly. Himura Yoshimasa. Intimidation felt different from behind than from the front. Pressure coming straight at you was far heavier, far more direct. Tsuki's knees trembled another degree. "I question you regarding last night's matter." His voice was low. Emotionless, quiet. Yet it had the power to thin the very air. Every retainer in the hall seemed to turn to stone. Tsuki placed her hands before her knees and bowed her head. She searched for words of apology. —But then. The moment her mouth opened, something entirely different came out. "That garden... does it not feel lonely with not a single flower?" Even as she spoke, Tsuki thought to herself. (Why am I saying that now?!) The air in the hall froze without a sound. One of the retainers seemed to leak a small, sharp noise. Behind Tsuki, Oyo—definitely—held her breath. Yoshimasa's gaze turned toward Tsuki. It was cold. A cold gaze. Those deep crimson eyes held no emotional warmth whatsoever. And yet—in their very depths, at a single point—something flickered. Just for an instant. One instant only. In the hall, only Tsuki was positioned to see Yoshimasa's face directly. Only she saw that flicker. A long silence fell. "...Punishment is suspended." That was all. "Return her to the Hagi Room." The entire hall remained frozen as Tsuki bowed her head. She rose to her feet and stepped into the corridor. Oyo followed immediately behind. After turning the corner, when the heavy atmosphere of the Omote Shoin had receded into distance, Tsuki finally exhaled all the air from her lungs. (What... what did I just say?) The realization came late. In a moment when she should have been apologizing, she had asked the lord about flowers. In a situation where she was nearly facing execution. As she cradled her head in her thoughts, Oyo—walking ahead without turning—spoke quietly. "Do you not understand it yourself?" (Don't agree with me like that!!) Tsuki screamed silently in her mind. Her lips, at least, remained barely composed. ──────── Back in the Hagi Room, Oyo spoke in a low voice. "Drawing attention is dangerous. Understand that suspension is not reprieve. There will be no second chance." Tsuki nodded. She understood. Her mind understood. But—that flicker in Yoshimasa's eyes. A certainty had taken root in her chest, separate from fear: this man had lost something. Flowers. He had erased flowers from the garden. That emptiness was someone's will. Oyo had said it last night—once, this garden held more flowers than any other. Why. Why had he removed them? (It's frightening. But... I want to know.) Tsuki herself could not yet name what this feeling was. ──────── Rumors spread through the castle quickly. In the eastern wing of the inner quarters—the Kikyo Room and the Fuji Room—there was one candidate for concubine in each. Oyo had told her. Tsuki could only imagine what expressions they wore now. A woman who should have been punished had her sentence suspended. And she had done it by posing a strange question directly to the lord. The gazes of the attendants passing through the corridors seemed to shift slightly. Tsuki chose to attribute it to her imagination for now, and gazed instead at the hagi flowers in the courtyard garden. The small purple flowers of the hagi swayed in the autumn breeze. ──────── It was evening the next day. Tsuki was sitting before a writing desk—struggling with brush and ink to compose something like a diary entry from her own time—when footsteps sounded in the corridor. Lower than Oyo's usual footsteps. Heavier. A guard's voice came from beyond the connecting corridor. The next moment, the screen to Tsuki's room slid open. Oyo entered first—her expression bearing a kind of tension Tsuki had never seen before—stepped back, and bowed. Yoshimasa stood in the corridor. "..." Yoshimasa said nothing. He glanced around the room, then lowered himself onto the edge of the veranda. That was all. (What... what?) The lord had come to the inner quarters. Alone, no less. Every fiber of Oyo's being broadcast the signal: *how extraordinary this is*—her face remained expressionless, yet her fingers at her knees had stiffened slightly. Yoshimasa gazed out at the courtyard garden. The hagi swayed in the evening wind. His deep crimson eyes followed the movement of those purple flower spikes quietly. Silence continued. A minute, or five minutes—Tsuki could not judge. At last, Tsuki could bear it no longer. "...Are you looking at the hagi?" Yoshimasa answered quietly. "Do you dislike hagi?" "No. I think it is beautiful." That was the moment. Yoshimasa's gaze—lifted from the courtyard—turned directly toward Tsuki. Cold. Those were cold eyes. Deep crimson pupils with the emotional temperature of absolute zero. And yet—in their very depths, at the innermost point—something flickered. Just for an instant. Tsuki could not look away. Something in her chest pulsed strongly, once. Her lungs forgot their rhythm for a moment. Heat rose to her face. (Why... why is my heart beating so fast?) Yoshimasa turned his gaze back to the courtyard. Tsuki lowered her eyes to her knees. Why. Why was her face burning? This man had frightened her. Her knees had trembled in the hall yesterday. Yet in that single moment of his direct gaze, her body had responded in an entirely different way. Oyo brought tea. Two bowls on a tray, placed quietly near the writing desk, then withdrew to the edge of the room. Tsuki pushed one bowl slightly toward Yoshimasa. Without a word, he took it. The man on the veranda and the woman at the writing desk. Between them, the autumn dusk filtered through. ──────── Three days later, Yoshimasa visited the Hagi Room again. This time they sat facing each other across the writing desk. Oyo brought tea and withdrew quietly. In doing so, her gaze turned toward Tsuki for just an instant. As though she wanted to say something, yet said nothing—it was Oyo's usual look. "I ask of your origins." Yoshimasa spoke in his low voice. (Ah, this is difficult to answer...) Tsuki had been an employee at a food trading company in Tokyo. Marusei Foods—she had handled imported goods. She had been hit by a car at an intersection during her commute, and when she came to, she was here. How could she explain such a story to this man, in this place? "...I am from far to the east. My father was... engaged in trade." Not a lie. It was a rounded answer. Yoshimasa paused for a beat, then did not press further. "Do not be ashamed of ignorance. Ask what you do not know." It was phrased as a command. But. Tsuki's chest grew warm. The man called a demon had chosen not to pursue the matter. Instead, he had said this. Do not blame yourself for not knowing. Such words had come from his mouth. (It's phrased as an order, but—this is...) Yoshimasa turned his gaze toward the veranda. Tsuki naturally turned in the same direction. The hagi in the courtyard swayed in the wind today as well. Two people facing the same direction, gazing at the same flowers. When Oyo witnessed this sight, her eyes stopped for just an instant. Stopped, then returned to their expressionless state. After Yoshimasa left, Tsuki gazed out at the courtyard for a long time without moving. (Frightening. But not frightening. But still, frightening.) She could not name the contradiction in this feeling. She did not yet know what

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Episode 2

Name: The Cage of Cold Moonlight: A Modern Woman Reborn in Warring States Discovers the True Face Behind a Ruthless Warlord
Author: Novelia

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