Change the name of one place, and it gets taken as a declaration that you mean to conquer the realm. Can you believe such a thing? It happened to me.
Some time after I took Mino, the scholars and monks who had gathered around me kept urging me.
"My lord. If this land of Inokuchi is to be your new seat, would you not consider giving it a new name as well?"
To be honest, I didn't care about place names. Inokuchi or anything else, as long as I could live there, it was fine.
But this scholar was terribly enthusiastic. His eyes shone, he leaned forward, and he went on and on.
I'm not good with other people's enthusiasm. When I see someone pressing something on me with real passion, I don't know what to do. If I refuse, I might offend him. If I anger him, he might hold a grudge. If he holds a grudge, he might stab me someday.
In my head, it always goes like that, the story rolling along until it ends at "stabbed." I'm afraid of people resenting me. So I'd rather go along with whatever they say. Once I thought that way, refusing was out of the question.
"Then," I said, low. In front of retainers, as always, I kept my voice down and spoke short and final.
"I care nothing for the names of places. I leave it to you. Give it a good name."
The scholar's face lit up. And then, with great reverence, he said this.
"Then—how would Gifu suit you?"
Gifu.
Characters I'd never seen together before.
"King Wen of Zhou, the sage sovereign of old, rose from a place called Mount Qi, and in the end brought peace to all under heaven. We borrow from that tale. The Gi of Mount Qi, the fu of Qufu. Gifu—a name for the land that brings peace to the realm."
I wasn't listening to half of it. Only, the characters looked impressive, so I nodded.
"Yes. That will do."
That was all there was to it.
But. This name, "Gifu," sent out tremendous ripples. The rumor spread to every province in no time.
"They say Oda has renamed his seat Gifu."
"Gifu, they say, is a name drawn from the tale of King Wen of Zhou, the sage sovereign of old, who brought peace to the realm."
"Which is to say—Oda Nobunaga likens himself to the one who will bring peace to the realm. What breathtaking ambition."
When I heard that, I put my head in my hands.
Wait. All I did was nod along with what the scholar said, because refusing was a hassle, and scary. To be honest, I don't even remember half of where Gifu comes from.
And yet the daimyo of every province were apparently truly terrified.
"Nobunaga is serious. He means to take the realm. He has carved his ambition into the very name of the land."
"To liken himself to a sage sovereign of old. What an audacious man."
And so they all braced themselves. In my castle town, merchants and craftsmen and travelers spoke the name. "The Gifu market is bustling." "The lord of Gifu, now—" Every time those words passed from mouth to mouth, from province to province, an ambition of mine that didn't exist—"Gifu, castle of the one who will bring peace to the realm"—swelled up all on its own.
Those seeking ties with me. Those wary of me, turning against me. A single place name, somewhere I couldn't see, was moving daimyo all across the warring provinces.
All I'd done was be afraid to say no. And yet that place name had—without my knowing anything about it—turned into an outrageous declaration: "I will take the realm."