Oda Nobunaga had recovered Kyoto without losing a single soldier, but he knew well that the Miyoshi were no ordinary foe. The clan had operated in the capital region for generations, with roots deep and wide. Though forced out of Kyoto, they still retained considerable strength in Settsu, Kawachi, Izumi, and elsewhere. The Miyoshi army had not disintegrated; they had merely withdrawn temporarily to lick their wounds, and could return at any time.
In mid December of Eiroku 11 (1568), Nobunaga sent out multiple scouts to reconnoitre the Miyoshi's defensive positions west of the capital. Braving the winter winds, the scouts scoured the hills and rivers of Settsu and Kawachi, mapping out the Miyoshi's deployments.
The reports reached Nobunaga's desk. He spread out the map, his brow furrowing slightly.
The Miyoshi had stationed a large force at Fumon ji in Tomita, Settsu Province. Fumon ji stood on high ground with a broad view, overlooking the surrounding plains and facilitating troop movements. The Miyoshi's choice of this place as one of their strongholds had clearly been carefully considered.
In addition, the Miyoshi had placed garrisons at several strategic points in Settsu: Iwana Ritomo held Seiryū ji, a key pass in eastern Settsu that commanded the main route from Kyoto to the western provinces; Miyoshi Nagayasu, Miyoshi Masakatsu, together with Hosokawa Nobukiyo, jointly held Ajiro Castle—the eastern gateway to Settsu, with high walls and deep moats, a formidable barrier; if Nobunaga wanted to advance west from Kyoto, Ajiro Castle would be his first obstacle. Kumehira Nagafusa defended Kosumi Castle and Takiyama Castle, which supported each other and controlled the southern transport lines of Settsu; Miyoshi Yasunaga held Takaya Castle, a vital point in Kawachi Province, from which he could threaten Izumi to the south and support Settsu to the west.
These castles formed a chain that locked the main roads of Settsu and Kawachi. They were within signalling distance of one another; a messenger on horseback could carry news from one to the next in half a day. If the Oda army attacked any one of them, the garrisons of the others would quickly respond, attacking from front and rear.
"The Miyoshi still have some skill," Nobunaga remarked dryly, looking at the map.
But he was not alarmed. He noticed a detail: one key name was missing from the list of defenders—Matsunaga Hisahide.
Matsunaga Hisahide had already submitted to Nobunaga. His domain lay in Yamato Province, not far from Settsu. Nobunaga's mind stirred; he immediately sent a message to Hisahide, instructing him to hold his position and await an opportunity.
More importantly, Nobunaga keenly sensed that the morale of the Miyoshi defenders was already low.
That was only natural. The Miyoshi had fled Kyoto in haste, abandoning years of accumulated treasure and provisions. Their soldiers were already depressed. Then they heard that Oda Nobunaga's army had taken Ōmi and pacified Ise without a real fight and was now poised to advance west. Any air of "invincibility" they might have had was all but gone. What was even more fatal was that the internal rifts within the Miyoshi had never healed—the Triumvirate were at daggers drawn with Miyoshi Yoshitsune and Matsunaga Hisahide, each with his own hidden agenda, unable to work together.
Dispirited troops were a problem no commander could easily solve.
In the first month of Eiroku 12 (1569), just after the New Year, Oda Nobunaga and Ashikaga Yoshiaki led a great army out of Kyoto and pushed westward.
Yoshiaki rode on horseback, wearing the formal robes of the shōgun, a tachi at his waist, followed by a retinue of his old Ashikaga retainers. His face wore a look of pride that had long been absent—this was the first time in years he was going to battle as shōgun, and though the real command rested with Nobunaga, he felt immensely honoured.
As the army reached the border of Settsu, scouts from the vanguard galloped back with news: "The defender of Seiryū ji, Iwana Ritomo, has sent an envoy. He wishes to surrender!"
Nobunaga reined in his horse, a gleam in his eye.
"Iwana Ritomo?" he repeated. "He is an old Miyoshi retainer, isn't he?"
"Yes, my lord," the scout answered. "Iwana Ritomo served Miyoshi Nagayoshi and is a veteran of long standing in the Miyoshi."
Nobunaga smiled. He rode forward and received the envoy himself. The envoy knelt by the roadside, holding out a letter of submission with both hands. Nobunaga unfolded it. The handwriting was neat, the wording humble. In essence, Iwana Ritomo said that he had long admired Lord Nobunaga's fame, did not wish to oppose the Oda, and was willing to surrender his castle; he requested that Nobunaga send a commander to take charge of Seiryū ji.
After reading the letter, Nobunaga handed it to Akechi Mitsuhide beside him and said casually, "Mitsuhide, what do you think?"
Akechi Mitsuhide took the letter, read it carefully, and said slowly, "Iwana Ritomo is a senior Miyoshi retainer. If he genuinely surrenders, it would be a devastating blow to Miyoshi morale. But we must beware of a feigned surrender."
Nobunaga nodded and said to the envoy, "Go back and tell Iwana Ritomo: I accept his surrender. Let him come out of the castle to meet me, and I will reward him in person."
The envoy kowtowed and departed.
That afternoon, Iwana Ritomo himself arrived at the Oda camp. He was about fifty, strongly built, with a square and honest face, dressed in a plain hitatare, a short sword at his waist. He knelt before Nobunaga, his attitude respectful, his words sincere.
Nobunaga did not treat him harshly. He immediately awarded him a hundred ryō of gold and a tachi, and promised to preserve his lands and title. Iwana Ritomo was so grateful that tears flowed as he repeatedly bowed his head.
News of Iwana Ritomo's surrender spread like a stone dropped into a pond, sending ripples far and wide.
Seiryū ji was the eastern gateway to Settsu, and Iwana Ritomo was a senior veteran. His surrender in effect opened the door to Settsu. When word reached Ajiro Castle, Miyoshi Nagayasu and Miyoshi Masakatsu were thrown into panic.
"That old Iwana! He's surrendered!" Nagayasu raged inside the castle. "Has he forgotten the Miyoshi's kindness to him?"
Miyoshi Masakatsu's face was ashen; he said nothing. In his heart he knew that Iwana's surrender was only the beginning; more would follow. He stood up, walked to the castle tower, and looked out. The winter sunlight was pale upon the fields. On the distant horizon, it seemed he could already see Oda banners fluttering in the wind.
Miyoshi Masakatsu's hand trembled.
"Nagayasu," he said, turning around, his voice low and urgent, "let's leave. Ajiro Castle cannot be held."
Nagayasu stared at him. "Leave? Where to? Our lord ordered us to hold the castle. Are we just going to run?"
"Stay and die?" Masakatsu's voice rose. "Look how many men we have. Three thousand? Four thousand? Oda Nobunaga has brought at least twenty thousand. Iwana has already surrendered, that traitor Matsunaga Hisahide has gone over to the Oda—if we don't leave now, we'll never get out."
The two argued all night. In the end, Masakatsu persuaded Nagayasu. Before dawn, they slipped out the rear gate of Ajiro Castle with a handful of trusted men, fleeing west toward Awaji Province.
When the garrison of Ajiro awoke and found their commanders gone, chaos erupted. Some wanted to flee, some wanted to surrender, some wanted to fight. Finally, several ranking officers decided to open the castle gates. They sent men to the Oda camp with the keys to the castle.
Oda Nobunaga entered Ajiro Castle without a fight.
News spread, and the lords of the various castles in Settsu and Kawachi fell like dominoes. Kumehira Nagafusa surrendered Kosumi and Takiyama. Miyoshi Yasunaga surrendered Takaya Castle. Even the wavering lords of Yamato Province vied to send envoys to Nobunaga's camp, offering letters of submission, swords, fine horses, and beautiful women.
Within a few days, Settsu, Kawachi, and Yamato had all been incorporated into Nobunaga's sphere of influence.
After fleeing to Awaji, Miyoshi Nagayasu and Miyoshi Masakatsu joined the main Miyoshi branch, which had earlier retreated to Awa Province. They held an emergency meeting at Sumoto Castle in Awaji, hoping to plan a counterattack.
But before the meeting could begin, bad news arrived—Ashikaga Yoshihide had died of illness.
Ashikaga Yoshihide, the "shōgun" installed by the Triumvirate, had fallen seriously ill during his flight. He ran a high fever and remained unconscious. Awaji lacked doctors and medicine, and his condition worsened day by day. On the last day of the first month, the thirty year old "shōgun" breathed his last.
The death of Ashikaga Yoshihide was a fatal blow to the Miyoshi.
The Miyoshi had been able to maintain a foothold in the capital region for so long because they held the banner of "supporting the shōgun." While Yoshihide lived, they could issue orders in his name and negotiate with the court as the shōgun's representatives. With Yoshihide dead, the Miyoshi no longer had a credible candidate for shōgun. Moreover, Ashikaga Yoshiaki, supported by Oda Nobunaga, had firmly assumed the position of shōgun with the formal recognition of the imperial court. On the battlefield of "legitimacy," the Miyoshi had lost completely.
The members of the Triumvirate looked at one another, unable to speak.
Miyoshi Nagayasu slumped onto the tatami, clutching his head, murmuring, "It's over… all over…"
Miyoshi Masakatsu's face was dark; he said nothing. Miyoshi Nagaharu said in a low voice, "Withdraw. Fall back to Awa, preserve our strength, and wait for the right moment."
The meeting ended without any agreement. The remnants of the Miyoshi, like an ebbing tide, retreated again and again from Awaji, Settsu, and Kawachi, finally withdrawing to their old strongholds in Awa and Awaji. For the time being, they had vanished from the stage of the capital region.
Without firing a single arrow, without losing a single soldier, Oda Nobunaga had pacified the vast region west of the capital.
"This is what the ancients called 'subduing an enemy without fighting,'" Nobunaga said to Shibata Katsuie beside him. "Katsuie, you've fought all your life. Have you ever seen such a thing?"
Shibata Katsuie smiled wryly. "I've fought half my life, and for the first time I feel that war isn't so hard after all."
Nobunaga laughed heartily.
In early February of Eiroku 12, Oda Nobunaga established his headquarters at Ajiro Castle.
Ajiro Castle stood on a hill, with a commanding view. From the tenshu, one could look east and see the outline of Kyoto, or look west and gaze over the plains of Settsu. Nobunaga liked the castle; he felt it had both military strength and political dignity.
He brought Ashikaga Yoshiaki to Ajiro as well, and the two of them worked together in the same castle, handling post war affairs.
Surrendered generals came to Ajiro Castle one after another, pledging allegiance to Oda Nobunaga and Ashikaga Yoshiaki. Nobunaga received them all, rewarding some, comforting others, warning a few—each according to his measure.
Among these surrendered commanders, two had the highest pedigrees: Hatakeyama Takamasa and Hosokawa Nobukiyo.
Hatakeyama Takamasa was a branch of the Hatakeyama family, the great shugo daimyō of Kawachi and Kii. The Hatakeyama were one of the three kanrei (deputy shōguns) of the Muromachi shogunate, along with the Hosokawa and the Shiba. Though Takamasa was only of a branch line, his high birth commanded respect among both court nobles and warriors.
Hosokawa Nobukiyo was even more distinguished. He was of the main Hosokawa line—the Hosokawa being the first of the three kanrei families, having served in the highest shogunate offices for generations. Nobukiyo himself was one of Ashikaga Yoshiaki's supporters; during Yoshiaki's years of wandering, he had secretly funded him, rendering great service.
Nobunaga knew very well that these two could not be treated like ordinary surrendered lords. They needed dignity, respect, and treatment befitting their lineage. Yet they also had to be fastened securely to the Oda war chariot, never allowed to become powerful enough to turn against him.
Nobunaga devised a perfect solution.
First, he invited Hatakeyama Takamasa to the honmaru hall of Ajiro Castle and spoke with him amiably for half a day. Then he made a proposal that left Takamasa flattered and surprised: "I have a younger sister named Oichi. I would like her to marry your adopted son, Hatakeyama Takakazu. What do you think?"
Takamasa was stunned. He had long heard of Oichi's beauty—renowned throughout the land. Even the court nobles in Kyoto were said to covet her. That Nobunaga would give such a sister to his adopted son—what an honour!
"Lord Nobunaga… this…" Takamasa was so moved he almost stammered. "I am only a surrendered general, I do not deserve…"
Nobunaga waved his hand and laughed. "Surrendered general? From today, you are a relative of the Oda. We are one family, so let's not stand on ceremony."
Hatakeyama Takamasa prostrated himself, his forehead touching the cold floor, his voice trembling: "Lord Nobunaga's great kindness and virtue—the Hatakeyama will never forget for generations to come!"
Nobunaga then publicly announced that he would give Iimori Castle to Hatakeyama Takakazu. Iimori was a large castle in eastern Settsu, strategically located and richly productive. Giving it to the Hatakeyama was both a reward and a test—Nobunaga wanted to see whether Takakazu was capable enough to hold it.
After dealing with the Hatakeyama, Nobunaga turned to Hosokawa Nobukiyo.
Hosokawa Nobukiyo was a steady middle aged man, elegant in manner, articulate—clearly from a distinguished family. After several conversations, Nobunaga found him promising and gave him a castle—not just any castle, but a strategic point on the border between Yamashiro and Ōmi.
"Lord Hosokawa," Nobunaga said, "the Hosokawa have been a pillar of the Muromachi shogunate, but in recent years you have suffered too many indignities. Now that Lord Yoshiaki has been restored as shōgun, it is time for the Hosokawa to recover their former glory. This castle is a small token of my regard. Please accept it. The continuation of the Hosokawa house rests on you."
Hosokawa Nobukiyo accepted the deed to the castle with both hands. His eyes reddened, and he bowed deeply.
Next came Miyoshi Yoshitsune.
Miyoshi Yoshitsune was an adopted son of Miyoshi Nagayoshi and the head of the Miyoshi main house. Although he bore the same name as the Triumvirate, he was their mortal enemy. Nobunaga shrewdly exploited this conflict, treating Yoshitsune with special favour—he gave him Takaya Castle.
Takaya Castle was one of the largest castles in Kawachi, with strong defences and rich farmlands. Delighted with the gift, Yoshitsune swore then and there to "remain loyal forever and never betray."
Then there was Matsunaga Hisahide.
Since submitting, Hisahide had acted very obsequiously. He had offered the famous tea caddy "Heikumo," vast amounts of gold and silver, and had voluntarily served as Nobunaga's go between with the local lords of the capital region. Nobunaga reciprocated by giving him Shiki Castle in Yamato.
Shiki Castle was a large fortress in eastern Yamato, strategically situated on high ground—hard to attack, easy to defend. After receiving it, Hisahide's power greatly increased, and his position in Yamato became even more solid. In his letter of thanks to Nobunaga, he wrote: "Hisahide is old and wishes for nothing else. I would only be permitted to hold Lord Nobunaga's reins and serve him in any humble way."
Nobunaga read the letter, smiled faintly, and said nothing.
As for the minor lords who had already been holding the western parts of Settsu—Ikeda Katsumasa, Itami Chikashige, Irie Sakon, and others—Nobunaga let them continue to garrison their original castles, holding the western defence line of Settsu province. These men were not great figures, but they had deep roots in their localities, and using them to stabilise Settsu was perfect.
Finally, there was Wada Koremasa.
Wada Koremasa was an old retainer of Ashikaga Yoshiaki. During Yoshiaki's most desperate years, he had stayed by his side without wavering. Nobunaga had seen and remembered this loyalty. He gave Ajiro Castle to Koremasa as a reward for his long devotion.
When Koremasa received the castle seal, tears streamed down his weathered face. He knelt before Yoshiaki, kowtowed three times, then turned to Nobunaga and kowtowed three more.
"Lord Nobunaga's kindness—Koremasa will never forget as long as he lives!"
These enfeoffments and rewards, seemingly haphazard, had all been carefully calculated. Nobunaga gave the most important castles to different factions—Hatakeyama, Hosokawa, Miyoshi, Matsunaga—so that they would check each other and none could grow too powerful. He also placed his own trusted men in various positions to monitor the every move of these surrendered lords. As for the deeply rooted local lords, he used a strategy of "using the locals to control the locals," allowing them to keep their original domains while neither weakening nor strengthening them.
Without making a sound, Nobunaga had firmly grasped several provinces west of the capital in his hands.
The surrendered lords were thoroughly impressed by Nobunaga's generosity and magnanimity. They had expected that surrendering to Oda Nobunaga would mean confiscation of their lands at best, and execution or exile at worst. Instead, not only did he leave their domains untouched, he gave them more castles and wealth. Such an "overcoming men by virtue" attitude was rare in the Warring States.
"Oda Nobunaga," Hatakeyama Takamasa said privately to his retainers, "though his reputation is not good, once you know him, you find he is actually a man of honour."
"He does not bear grudges, is not petty, and rewards and punishes clearly," Hosokawa Nobukiyo gave a similar assessment.
"He's a better prospect than the Miyoshi," Miyoshi Yoshitsune put it more bluntly.
Matsunaga Hisahide said nothing. He silently accepted his castle and quietly returned to Yamato. But behind his wily old fox's eyes, a gleam that was hard to read would occasionally flash.
News that Oda Nobunaga had pacified the capital region without fighting reached Kyoto and entered the palace.
Emperor Ōgimachi was reading a sutra in the Seiryōden. When he heard the news, the sutra nearly fell from his hands.
"What? Settsu, Kawachi, Yamato—all have submitted to Oda Nobunaga? Without losing a single soldier?"
The lady in waiting reporting the news nodded. "Your Majesty, it is true. The Miyoshi have fled back to Awa and Awaji. All the provinces west of the capital belong to the Oda."
The Emperor was silent for a long time, then let out a deep breath.
For years, the situation in the capital region had been like a boiling pot, with various factions fighting among themselves. The court, caught in the middle, had been in an impossible position. But now, at last, a strong man had appeared who could bring order. This Oda Nobunaga, though of humble origin and rough manners, treated the court with far more deference than the Miyoshi, Hosokawa, or Rokkaku. Since entering the capital, he had not troubled the court; instead, he had voluntarily presented gold and silver, repaired the palace, and restored the imperial ceremonies. Wasn't this exactly the kind of "restorer of the realm" the court had been longing for?
That very day, the Emperor summoned the court nobles to discuss how to reward Oda Nobunaga. After much chatter, they decided to send Madenokōji Sukefusa as an imperial envoy to Ajiro Castle to convey the Emperor's commendation.
Madenokōji Sukefusa was a mid ranking court official from a distinguished family, smooth and eloquent. He arrived at Ajiro Castle bearing the Emperor's letter and lavish gifts—gold, silk, swords, fine incense.
Nobunaga received him in the honmaru hall of Ajiro Castle, dressed in formal attire, his hair neatly combed, a proper smile on his face. Though his movements still carried a hint of a warrior's roughness, his genuine respect pleased Sukefusa greatly.
Sukefusa read the Emperor's message. Nobunaga listened on his knees, respectfully accepted the letter, raised it above his head, and said in a loud voice, "Your subject, Oda Nobunaga, thanks His Majesty for his great grace!"
Sukefusa nodded, then chatted with Nobunaga for a while, asking about his plans for the capital region and what he might need from the court. Nobunaga answered, modestly and appropriately.
When Sukefusa returned, he praised Nobunaga highly before the Emperor: "Oda Nobunaga may be a warrior, but his court etiquette is flawless. Your Majesty may rest assured. With him in the capital region, peace will soon be restored."
The Emperor was greatly comforted, and that night a simple vegetarian feast was held in the Seiryōden to celebrate.
In the third month of Eiroku 12 (1569), Oda Nobunaga and Ashikaga Yoshiaki returned to Kyoto from Ajiro Castle.
Yoshiaki moved into a former Hosokawa mansion—a large compound east of the Kyoto Imperial Palace, once the residence of Hosokawa Katsumoto, grand and spacious, with a deep, quiet garden. Nobunaga had the mansion repaired, furnished with new items, and assigned three hundred samurai to guard it day and night. When Yoshiaki walked into this home, tears welled in his eyes—he finally had a proper residence, not a guest hall at Miidera, not a dilapidated temple from his wandering days.
Oda Nobunaga himself took up residence at Shion ji.
Shion ji was located in the eastern part of Kyoto, built against a hill, in a quiet and pleasant setting. Nobunaga requisitioned a villa within the temple as his temporary quarters and set up rigorous security around it. Though he was welcomed in Kyoto, he never relaxed his vigilance—the Miyoshi remnants and disgruntled local lords could strike at any time.
Once settled, Nobunaga implemented a series of policies aimed at stabilising the chaotic times and restoring order.
The first measure was to reorganise taxation.
Nobunaga sent men to survey the wealth of the various domains in the capital region and set tax rates accordingly. Fertile, productive areas paid more; barren, famine prone areas paid less. The rates were not arbitrary but based on careful calculation—how much rice per acre, how many people per household, how much surplus grain per year—his accountants figured it all out.
Nobunaga assembled the lords of the capital region, handed them the tax schedules, and demanded that they pay their levies to the court on time. On average, each lord was to pay about a thousand kan a year—a sum most could afford.
Though the lords grumbled inwardly, none dared object when they saw Nobunaga's face, which brooked no argument. They all signed and sealed the documents, promising to pay on time.
From then on, the imperial treasury was no longer empty. When Emperor Ōgimachi saw the columns of figures in the account books, he was so moved he almost cried—in more than a decade on the throne, he had never seen so much money in the treasury.
The second measure was to abolish barriers.
During the Warring States period, local lords had set up checkpoints everywhere to extort travelling merchants. A mountain, a river, even a bridge might be blocked by some lord demanding a toll. To get from Kyoto to Settsu, a merchant might have to pass a dozen checkpoints and pay a dozen tolls. The high transport costs deterred many merchants, making the flow of goods extremely difficult and keeping the economy depressed.
Nobunaga had long despised these barriers. While still at Kiyosu Castle, he had removed all unnecessary checkpoints in his own domain. Now that he controlled the capital region, he ordered all barriers in Kyoto, Yamashiro, Yamato, Settsu, Kawachi, and elsewhere to be abolished, leaving only a few essential checkpoints for screening suspicious persons and intercepting smuggled salt.
As soon as the barriers were gone, merchants rejoiced. Transport costs fell sharply, the prices of goods dropped, and people's lives became a little easier. In the markets of Kyoto, goods from all over appeared in dazzling variety; hawkers' cries and bargaining sounds rose and fell, creating a lively scene.
Someone said to Nobunaga, "My lord, abolishing barriers may benefit merchants and commoners, but it will reduce the incomes of the lords."
Nobunaga looked at the man and said flatly, "Where do the lords' incomes come from? From the taxes paid by the people. If the people are poor, the lords cannot get rich. Only when the people grow richer can the lords grow richer. How can you not understand such a simple truth?"
The man was speechless.
Ashikaga Yoshiaki's gratitude toward Oda Nobunaga had reached an immeasurable depth.
He recalled how, a few years earlier, he had been hiding in a mountain village in Ōmi, dressed in a monk's robe, his head shaved, using the assumed name "Kakukei," as skittish as a startled bird, terrified that the Miyoshi's assassins would find him. In those days, his greatest wish was merely to sleep soundly and eat a hot meal. The shōgunate, the realm—these had been impossibly distant dreams.
Now he sat in an elegant hall in the former Hosokawa mansion, with fine refreshments before him and a manicured garden outside the window. In the distance came the noise of the Kyoto streets. He was the legitimate Seii Taishōgun, recognised by the imperial court, acknowledged by the great lords of the land. And all of this he owed to Oda Nobunaga.
Yoshiaki was not an ungrateful man. His heart was filled with such gratitude that it bordered on worship.
One day, he sent a retainer to Shion ji to express a request—he wished to make Nobunaga his "adopted father" (giri no chichi).
Nobunaga was practising with a wooden sword in the garden of Shion ji when he heard this request. He paused, the sword frozen in mid air, then slowly lowered it.
"Adopted father?" he repeated, the corners of his mouth lifting in an expression that could have been a wry smile or self deprecation.
"I'm not that much older than him…" he muttered, then said to the messenger, "Go back and tell the shōgun: I appreciate his good intentions, but there is no need for an adopted father. I, Oda Nobunaga, am not worthy of that. However, we can be good brothers—that would be fine."
The messenger carried Nobunaga's reply back to the Hosokawa mansion. Yoshiaki was somewhat disappointed, but more relieved. He thought to himself: Lord Nobunaga is truly not one to covet empty honours. His refusal to be my adopted father shows he cares nothing for titles. Such a man is truly trustworthy.
Yoshiaki then wanted to appoint Nobunaga as kanrei—the highest office in the Muromachi shogunate, above all the daimyō. Again Nobunaga refused.
"The office of kanrei," Nobunaga said, "is hereditary among the Hosokawa, Hatakeyama, and Shiba. I am an outsider; it would be inappropriate for me to sit in that seat. Besides, what would I do with an empty title? I don't fight my battles by titles."
Yoshiaki sent a third time, offering to grant Nobunaga additional lands—a large portion of Yamashiro Province. Once more Nobunaga declined.
"Lord Shōgun," Nobunaga finally said with some impatience, his voice louder, "what I want is not land, not office, not empty fame. I want peace under heaven. Even if you give me land, I still need people to farm it and guard it. Better to keep it for those who truly need it than to give it to me."
Yoshiaki stopped insisting.
The court nobles observed all this with wonder. They had seen many daimyō fight bloody battles for a single title or a piece of land. A man like Oda Nobunaga was truly an anomaly in the Warring States.
But what they did not know was that Nobunaga refused these honours not because he was "indifferent to fame and wealth," but because he had far greater ambitions. He did not want the office of kanrei, nor a few parcels of land—he wanted the whole realm. The title of kanrei, in his eyes, was just a piece of wastepaper. What would truly enable him to command the realm were swords, arquebuses, tens of thousands of veteran warriors, and the awe inspiring power of his own name: Oda Nobunaga.
After entering Kyoto, Nobunaga's behaviour had indeed changed greatly.
In Owari, he had been known as the "Great Fool"—wearing strange clothes, urinating in the street, throwing ashes at the Buddha during his father's funeral. But in Kyoto, he was like a different man. He dressed properly, behaved decorously, treated the court nobles with perfect courtesy, and showed utmost reverence to the court. Though he could not join in the waka gatherings, he never breached etiquette, sitting quietly in the lowest seat from beginning to end.
His retainers were puzzled. Shibata Katsuie once asked him privately, "My lord, you were not like this in Owari. Why have you become so… well behaved in Kyoto?"
Nobunaga cast him a sidelong glance and sneered. "Katsuie, you don't understand. Owari is home—I do as I please there. But Kyoto is where the Emperor resides, where the court sits, where the eyes of the whole realm are watching. If I behave outrageously here, what would the world think of me? I would lose people's hearts, lose support, lose the court's trust. Do you think I'm a fool?"
Shibata Katsuie saw the point and nodded vigorously.
Nobunaga continued, "These people in Kyoto care about lineage, etiquette, and rules. I don't like those things, but just because I don't like them doesn't mean I can trample on them. I respect them so that I can use them. After I've finished using them, I can throw them away."
Listening to these words, Shibata Katsuie felt a chill run down his spine. He looked into Nobunaga's fathomless eyes and suddenly realised that he had never truly understood his lord.
Outside the window, a few paper lanterns rose into the night sky of Kyoto—people praying for peace in the capital region. The lanterns wavered upward, like bright stars scattered against the dark blue firmament.
Oda Nobunaga stood by the window, gazing at those lanterns, silent for a long time.
No one knew what he was thinking.