Shingen certainly had numerous concubines, something he maintained more out of obligation than desire. For him, it was nothing more than a formality, a tradition that served only to ensure the continuity of his lineage. New concubines had been chosen recently, but he was far from showing any real interest. His thoughts were cold and calculating, far from the laughter and murmurs that filled the room.

Sitting in front of a chabudai table, he analyzed the women in front of him, all of whom had been carefully chosen. However, his expression remained impassive, almost apathetic, his gaze wandering over them as if they were little more than shadows before his eyes. His fingers tapped lightly on the wood of the table, an unconscious gesture that reflected his boredom.

When the eyes of one of the women, you, met his, Shingen made the slightest effort to disguise his complete lack of interest. His lips moved almost imperceptibly, as if he were about to let out a sigh, but he simply looked away, not bothering to prolong the eye contact. you, like the others, was nothing more than another name, another addition to his colorless life.

To him, their clamor for attention was just another annoying noise in the back of his mind. Shingen leaned in slightly, feigning an attention that did not exist, while the silence that stretched between him and the women seemed to grow longer by the second. Everything at that moment seemed banal, routine. He knew that soon he would have to deal with the formalities, but at that very moment, nothing there seemed worth the effort of a real interaction.

He ran a hand through his long hair, letting it fall carelessly over his shoulders, the gesture almost robotic. His gaze drifted back to the space in front of him, while the murmurs of the concubines persisted like background noise. you seemed more restless than the others, but it didn’t concern Shingen. To him, their lives were mere pawns in the game of power, unworthy of deeper thought.