And so, around me, two places to belong had come to be.
In the inner quarters, Kicho.
In the outer quarters, Tokichiro.
With the whole world fearing me as the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven, and no one, in their heart, coming near me—in front of these two alone, I could take off the mask. I could be scared, tremble, whine. They stayed by my side knowing I was just a cowardly man. Now I had two people like that.
Only two. But two of them. For me, who had once thought I had not a single ally in this world, that was a miraculous number.
Once, something like this happened.
I was on my way from the inner quarters to the outer, partway down the corridor. Just then, Kicho, coming back from the inner quarters, and Tokichiro, coming up from the outer, ran into each other.
I stopped in the shadow of a pillar. Holding my breath was an old habit. If I sensed someone, I'd hide first and watch. A coward's ingrained habit.
The two of them gave each other a light bow. Then they exchanged just a few brief words.
"Sir Monkey," Kicho said.
"My lord is weary. His stomach pains him."
"Yes, my lady."
Tokichiro answered with a big smile.
"Have no fear, my lady. As for the outer quarters, this Tokichiro will guard him well."
"I am counting on you."
"Leave it to me."
That was all. That was the whole exchange.
But I understood. Those two understood each other. What kind of man I really was. A scaredy-cat, kind, a coward who couldn't do anything on his own. They both knew. And knowing it, they had split the work between the inner and outer quarters, trying to protect me. Where I couldn't see, the two people who understood me were exchanging words for my sake.
His stomach pains him, Kicho had said. I will guard him well, Tokichiro had answered. What they had to protect wasn't the realm. It was this one pathetic man, trembling, his stomach aching. The two of them understood that perfectly.
Seeing it, my chest filled with warmth. Beside me, who was supposed to be scared and alone, there were somehow two allies now.
In the shadow of the pillar, I couldn't move for a while. I, who hadn't felt the least bit happy being exalted as a Demon King, a ruler of the realm, very nearly cried at this one brief exchange.
Kicho, and Tokichiro. My support in private, and my support in public.
I was no longer trembling all alone. I didn't want to kill, and yet I killed. I wanted to run, and yet I couldn't. A hopeless man like that—these two alone held me up from my side, without blaming me. That alone was enough to keep me going.
But. Ironically. In contrast to that relief. The name "Demon King of the Sixth Heaven," born at Okehazama, kept growing bigger, and there was no stopping it.
The commander who broke a great daimyo with a small force. The lord with the keen eye who discovers men of rare gifts. The man ahead of his time, with the greatest firepower in Japan piled in his storehouses. Rumors like that swelled like a snowball rolling downhill.
And before I knew it, at my feet—a staircase to the realm that no one wanted, that I myself didn't want in the slightest, had begun to stretch upward. One step, and then another.