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Under the soft glow of the moon, the quiet village lay still, wrapped in the kind of peaceful silence that only the dead of night could bring. (Y/N)'s parents, exhausted from the day's events, slept soundly in their room, unaware of the plan brewing in their daughter's mind. In the stillness of the house, (Y/N) moved like a shadow, careful not to disturb the fragile peace that surrounded them.

With a quiet breath, she made her way to her father's desk, where the imperial decree sat, still fresh and crisp. Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached out, fingers trembling with the weight of what she was about to do. She had already spent hours thinking about it, each thought sharp and clear in her mind. There would be no turning back now.

She gently took the decree in her hands, unfolding it for the last time, her eyes scanning the harsh, cold words of the Southern Lord's command. One man from every family to serve. Her father had already decided to answer that call, even if it meant his body breaking further. But (Y/N) could not let that happen-not if she had a choice. She placed her palm over the parchment, silently vowing that her family would not be dragged into this senseless war at the cost of her father's life.

With a decisive motion, (Y/N) replaced the decree with a simple hairpin, its delicate gold surface reflecting the dim candlelight. She closed the door to the room with a soft click, her heart racing as she stepped back. She had done it. No one would notice until the morning, when it was too late.

But there was no time to waste. She moved swiftly to the basement, her footsteps silent on the wooden stairs that creaked underfoot. The cool air of the cellar hit her, the scent of dust and age wrapping around her like a cloak. At the far end of the room stood the old cabinet-her father's pride. She had seen him polish the blade countless times, watching him with wide eyes as he spoke of the honor it represented. Now, it was her turn to wield it.

She opened the cabinet slowly, reverently, the familiar weight of the sword's scabbard pulling her towards it. Her fingers brushed over the polished wood of the hilt as she pulled the blade free. The cold steel reflected back at her, the intricate engravings on the blade shining in the pale light. This was her father's sword, but starting tonight, it would be hers.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) moved to the center of the room and stood before the old, cracked mirror that hung on the wall. The reflection that met her eyes was one she barely recognized-the face of a young woman determined, desperate even, to change the course of her destiny. But the woman in the mirror also had something more-something fierce and unyielding. She would no longer be the village girl, the daughter of a retired army. Tonight, she would become something-someone else entirely.

With her father's sword in her hand, she knelt before the mirror, the blade catching the light as she slowly raised it. She knew what she had to do. The long black strands of her hair had always been a symbol of her femininity, of the life she had been raised to live. But in that moment, with the weight of the sword in her hand, (Y/N) knew she had to shed that identity.

She took the blade and, with a single stroke, cut through the thick black locks of hair that fell around her shoulders. The action was quick, almost violent, as her long hair fell to the floor in uneven strands. She breathed heavily, the feeling of liberation and loss washing over her in equal measure. She would no longer be (Y/N), the daughter of a retired army. She would be someone else, someone who could stand on her own in the chaos of war.

When the last of her hair was cut, she tied what remained into a tight man-bun, securing it with a simple leather cord. She studied her reflection, taking in the transformation. Her face was unchanged, but her appearance had shifted into something more difficult to define. It was no longer just a woman's face-now, it was the face of a warrior, one determined to fight for her family, for her future.

The time had come.

(Y/N) dressed herself in her father's old clothing, the fabric heavy and foreign against her skin. The tunic, which had once fit him perfectly, now felt awkward on her smaller frame, but she adjusted the folds and tied the sash tightly around her waist. The clothes were practical, the simple hakama pants and tunic top offering freedom of movement while still reflecting the army's disciplined appearance. They were a reminder of what her father had once been, but also a symbol of the role she was now taking on.

With a final glance at the house-at the bed where her parents lay peacefully unaware-(Y/N) moved swiftly toward the stables. The cold night air bit at her cheeks as she stepped outside, the silence of the world amplifying her every movement. She reached the stables, her heart pounding as she approached her horse, who was tied to a post in the corner. The steed, normally calm and docile, whinnied in confusion as it caught the unfamiliar scent of its owner. It pawed nervously at the ground, its nostrils flaring.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, steadying herself. The horse was anxious, sensing something was wrong. She approached slowly, speaking in a low, soothing voice. "It's me, friend," she whispered, her hand gently brushing the horse's mane. "I know you don't recognize me, but trust me."

The horse snorted and shifted uneasily, but (Y/N) didn't falter. She reached for the reins, gently coaxing the animal to calm down. Her fingers tightened around the leather straps, and with a soft click of her tongue, the horse finally settled, its breath slowing as it recognized the familiar touch of its rider.

She led the horse out of the stables and into the moonlit night, the path ahead uncertain but clear. (Y/N) had made her choice. Her heart thudded in her chest, a steady drumbeat of determination. The road ahead was dangerous, but it was a road she had chosen. She would ride into the unknown, carrying with her-her father's honor, her own resolve, and a determination to protect her family at any cost.

The night swallowed her as she rode off into the distance, the village and her home fading behind her. There was no going back now.

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The camp was bustling with men from all over the South, each one with their own story to tell, their own struggles, and now, a shared mission: to fight for the South and its honor. The tents were set up in neat rows, and the air was filled with the sounds of clanking swords, gruff voices, and the faint smell of smoke and sweat. Men of all shapes and sizes had gathered, some with muscles bulging from years of hard labor, others lean and wiry from a life spent on the move. It was a mix of the strong and the scrappy, all united under one cause.

(Y/N) stood in line, trying to keep her head low, hoping the shadow of her man-bun and oversized clothes would be enough to keep her from standing out. The last thing she needed was to attract attention. She was just another 'man' trying to do his duty, after all. But as the line slowly inched forward, the problem she hadn't anticipated hit her like a ton of bricks.

She hadn't thought of a name.

Sure, she had thought of a thousand things-how to disguise herself, how to act like a man, how to make it through the next few weeks without anyone noticing that she wasn't actually a man. But the one thing she had forgotten was to come up with a convincing name. The men around her had no such issues. They stood proudly with their decrees, handing them over confidently as they introduced themselves, each name carrying a certain weight.

"Taishi Onodera," one man said, a large, broad-shouldered fellow with arms that could probably crush a boulder. He handed his decree slip over with a firm nod.

"Shinzo Kobayashi," another grunted, a lanky figure with an intensity in his eyes that made Y/N shift uncomfortably.

It came to her turn. She stepped up, her palms sweating inside her father's too-large sleeves, her heart hammering in her chest. The clerk behind the table gave her an expectant look, waiting for the name she would provide.

"Uh... um..." (Y/N)'s throat dried up. C'mon, think of a name, think of a name! She silently panicked. Names flashed through her mind-some too ridiculous, others too plain. The pressure was mounting, and the last thing she needed was to get caught up in a lie before she even began.

She cleared her throat, lowering her voice into the deepest octave she could muster. "Taro-Taro... Taro... uh, Yoshikawa," she blurted out, her voice cracking slightly at the end.

The clerk raised an eyebrow, giving her a confused glance. "Yoshikawa? Never heard of you."

(Y/N)'s stomach lurched, panic rising again. "Uh, no... I mean uhh," she attempted to explain, hoping to sell the story.

Before the clerk could respond, a voice suddenly boomed from behind her. It was deep, commanding, and unmistakable.

"No man in the imperial army stutters, much less only giving out his name. What's your name?" the voice called, sharp and inquisitive.

(Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat, and she froze. Slowly, she turned around to see a young man-tall, handsome, and dressed in the uniform of someone important. He stood with the air of someone who wasn't used to being ignored or questioned, someone of high rank, no doubt. His eyes locked onto her, waiting for her answer.

"Uh..." Y/N fumbled for words, her mind going blank.
Taro Yoshika-no. Taro Inoue!. Say it. Just say it, or you'll get caught!

The problem was, as soon as she opened her mouth again, the voice that came out wasn't quite as deep as she had hoped. Instead, it sounded... well, like a girl trying to sound like a man. It's either he noticed it and decided to ignore it or he's just too dumb. Well, unlikely.

"Ta... Taro Inoue..." she muttered, a slight quiver in her voice betraying her.

The young man raised an eyebrow, clearly not fooled. He crossed his arms and stared at her with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. "Taro Inoue, huh? Never heard of you. You sure you belong here?" His voice was laced with amusement, but there was an edge of seriousness to it that made Y/N's nerves stand on end.

"Y-Yes, of course!" she stammered, her deep voice cracking at the worst possible moment. "I... I'm, uh, new. Just... just got here! Son of Zhou Inoue!"

The general's son narrowed his eyes, taking a few steps closer. (Y/N)'s mind raced, every possible escape plan running through her head. But no matter how much she willed her legs to move, they refused. She stood rooted to the spot, praying he wouldn't notice the trembling of her hands or the faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

For a moment, the general's son didn't say anything. He simply stared at her, as if waiting for something-anything-that would make this situation less suspicious. Finally, he sighed and gave a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Right," he said, still with that skeptical look in his eyes. "Well, Taro Inoue, I'll be keeping an eye on you. Don't let me catch you slacking off."

(Y/N) gulped, nodding quickly, too afraid to say anything else.

The general's son didn't linger any longer. He turned to leave, but not without one last lingering glance. (Y/N) let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, trying to steady her shaking hands. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and for a moment, she thought she might actually pass out from the intensity of the encounter.

As she turned to walk away, she could hear the general's son muttering to himself, no doubt making some mental note about this strange, nervous "Taro Inoue" (Y/N) didn't dare look back.

The tension was unbearable.

Now, she had a new problem. Not only did she have to deal with the looming challenge of surviving in a camp full of men who could easily spot a woman in disguise, but now it seemed like the general's son was suspicious of her. If he kept his eye on her, the whole plan could unravel before it even started.

"Great," Y/N muttered to herself, adjusting her too-loose sleeves. "Just great."

And with that, she stepped away, hoping that by some miracle, she'd be able to pull off the impossible-and keep her secret hidden for just a little longer.

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unedited.

Author's note:

I've already got all my structures prepared, just need to fill in the paragraphs and paste it here on Wattpad lol. Lovelots!

rieriesquillᝰ.ᐟ