The night of Eiroku's tenth year was far more crowded with stars than she could have imagined. When Harune opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was them. Lying on her back, she gazed upward. At the stars burning across the northern sky. A overwhelming multitude of light—the kind that could never be seen in modern-day Tokyo. —That's right. The positions are different. With that thought lingering in the corner of her mind, Harune pushed herself up onto her elbows. Each movement sent pain radiating through her body. Her arms and lower back stung particularly sharply. "...Where am I?" Her voice emerged. She could hear herself. Her lungs filled with air, and she could breathe. That was, at least, some small reassurance. She looked around. Grassland stretched endlessly in every direction. Weeds as tall as a person grew in countless numbers, dampened by the night dew. The silhouette of a forest visible far to the west lay dark and heavy. And she examined her own body, from her feet to her head. She wore a white shirt and black slacks. Her modern clothes. But the white shirt had yellowed, and the black slacks were caked with mud. How long had she been here? "What happened..." She thrust her hand into her pocket. The hard shape of her smartphone was there. She pulled it out. The screen was completely shattered. Complex fractured glass that caught the starlight and reflected it back. The LCD display was dead. The power wouldn't turn on. Perhaps modern things had no place here. As that thought took hold, Harune began, for the first time, to truly understand her situation. The landscape before her eyes. The genuine texture of soil transmitted through her feet. The air entering her lungs was completely different. There was no exhaust. No factory smell. No fluorescent lights flickering. Only grass. Only soil. Only wind. "...Reincarnation...?" The whisper dissolved into the sky. Time passed after that—though how much, she couldn't say. It felt strangely vague. Harune tried to stand. Her legs wavered. Both knees buckled against the ground. The cold earth pressed into her kneecaps. She gathered her strength again. Her back screamed. But she had to stand. There might be people somewhere. People who knew how to survive in this era—no, this world. Harune placed both hands on the ground and pushed with all her remaining strength. Her body felt impossibly heavy. But she rose. "..." She stood alone in the deep night grassland. A twenty-one-year-old woman, simply standing. That was when she saw the light from the western direction. At first, she thought it was a bonfire. A flickering orange glow from a distance. But there were multiple lights. And they were moving. Drawing closer. Harune's body froze. With the light came sound. Men's voices. Coarse, thick voices. "Over there." "Do you see it?" "Don't run." The words were intelligible. Japanese. But not modern Japanese honorifics. Something closer to the Sengoku period. "Where... where is this place...?" Harune whispered. Her voice trembled completely. The torchlight drew nearer. Five men became visible. They wore soiled kimonos, with swords and spears thrust through their belts. Their eyes were sharp, feral. This was what "human beings" looked like in this era. "Hey, you. What are you doing in a place like this?" The man at the front spoke. He appeared to be in his forties. A scar ran across his cheek. "I... um..." Harune instinctively tried to back away. But her feet tangled. "Don't move." Another man spoke. His voice carried an animal-like danger. "Who... who are you people?" Harune reflexively used formal speech. The habit from modern times was carved into her body. The men exchanged glances. Then crude laughter erupted. "A traveling woman?" "Her clothes aren't bad. Whose daughter is she?" "A fine catch." Ice ran through Harune's entire body. "I'm running." She suddenly bolted. Her legs pumped with all their strength. "Wait." The men's voices came from behind. Footsteps too. Multiple, heavy footsteps. But she had to run. Had to escape. She didn't know what they would do otherwise. In this era, in this place, women were objects. She'd heard that much in history class. "Ah!" Her left foot caught on something. She fell to the ground. She caught herself with her hands, but the pain was sharp. Her slacks tore at the knees. Blood seeped out. "Grab her." A man threw himself on top of her. Heavy. She couldn't breathe. "Let me go!" Harune screamed. But her voice was swallowed by the grassland. No one heard. Her wrists were twisted behind her back. The pain was searing. "Get the rope." Someone said it. Rope was wound around her wrists. Tightly. Secured. "Don't move." The man stood. Harune remained on her knees, unable to move. "Tomorrow, let's sell her to the slave traders in Narumi." She heard those words. Slave traders. Yes. This was that kind of era. It was then that Harune truly understood—she had really come to the past. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The makeshift hut was deep in the forest. A crude wooden structure, enclosed on all sides by logs, its roof thatched with grass. Inside, a bonfire burned, and men drank sake. Murky sake. The smell was strong. Harune sat in the corner. Her wrists bound with rope. Her feet tied as well. "This one's clothes aren't bad," someone said. "Maybe she's a princess." "No, selling a woman with no known identity is dangerous. She could be a thief." "Then what do we do?" Silence stretched for a moment. The fire crackled and popped. "Why don't we enjoy ourselves first, and then..." At those words, Harune's entire body turned to ice. "Enjoy ourselves?" Another man laughed. A crude, vicious laugh. "That's right. In times like these, a woman is just..." Harune didn't want to hear the rest. She looked away. But the words kept coming. The men's discussion. They spoke of her body in the same tone as they would haggle over merchandise. Terror consumed her completely. Her heart pounded. Her hands and feet trembled. Could this really be happening? To a twenty-two-year-old. Just a female college student. A plain, ordinary student with public health and business administration as her minor subjects. Suddenly, footsteps approached. A man came toward Harune. The torchlight wavered, and his face became visible. He appeared to be in his thirties. His teeth were blackened. "You can speak, can't you?" The man said. Harune couldn't answer. She couldn't even nod. The man's hand reached out. He grasped her jaw. His hand was colder than she expected. But his grip was strong. "Look at me. Look this way." It was then that the words came. "This is Oda territory. The great lord will not remain silent." The words spilled from Harune's mouth. A bluff. A desperate bluff. In history class, she'd learned that Eiroku's tenth year was when Oda Nobunaga—a Sengoku daimyo of Owari—was strengthening his power in this region. His name, as he pursued military unification, should have been known even to the bandits in the surrounding mountains. "Oda?" The man's brow furrowed. His grip weakened slightly. "Nobunaga or Nobutaka?" Another man spoke. Nobutaka was Nobunaga's younger brother, and at this time, the power struggle between them still raged. "Wait. This territory..." Another man murmured. "Either way, I've heard this is Oda land. If we hurt a woman here, we might be investigated." The critical situation weakened at the mention of that single name. The men withdrew their hands from Harune. But their gazes remained predatory. Harune curled herself into the corner of the hut. Time passed. How much, she couldn't tell. The men continued drinking. Eventually, they began to sleep. Snores filled the air. The bonfire dimmed, casting only thin light. That was when Harune wept. Not with gasping sobs, but quietly. Tears simply flowed. "Why... why me...?" Her voice was small, like the light of a firefly, and faded away. The cry of an owl echoed in the distance. The night was still long. Harune felt acutely that she would need wisdom and luck to survive. But she possessed neither now. Only terror dominated her heart. What would happen tomorrow? The answer would come. But that time felt eternal. The pain in her bound wrists. The cold in her feet. The racing of her heart. This was her fall into another world. And the true beginning of her new life.