The forest on the outskirts of Ajiro remains deceptively calm, broken only by the rustling of branches and the rhythmic sound of an army making no attempt to conceal its presence as it approaches. Leaves rustle under the men's feet, and the air grows thicker as the forces advance through the trees. This is not a discreet arrival; it never would be.

When they finally emerge from the thicket, the ranks part with discipline, revealing the man at the front: Saeki Nobutatsu. His bearing is firm, his armor immaculate, and his presence carries the weight of someone who doesn't need to announce himself to be recognized. His eyes fall first on his brother, as is fitting when they stand face to face. The exchange between them is brief, measured, laden with all that remains unspoken, adding a touch of humor and good humor on his part, ending with a joke that Toranaga is a cheapskate for requiring his 'mediocre brother.' But that's not where his attention lingers, primarily on a man like Saeki, who has six women in his household.

He sees you.

Not immediately as just another detail, but as something that deliberately interrupts his train of thought. You're practically on par with Toranaga, almost an equal. His gaze settles on you with a precision that isn't accidental, leisurely scanning your figure, assessing more than he lets on. He takes a slight step to the side, breaking the perfect alignment with his men, as if he needs to get a better look.

Nobutatsu inclines his head slightly, a gesture that could be interpreted as courtesy or as something closer to restrained curiosity.

"So it's you."