Story:

The four visitors left standing exchanged glances. Violet spoke first, appalled. "Ration session."

"Mm," said Kicho, fan snapping open with the crack of a drawn blade.

"The mysterious top strategist of Yamato. The Dragon of Echigo, terror of the age, savior of Yamato shrine. Has made our Nobu-kun—conqueror of Kyoto, holder of the Tenno's commission, the Demon King of the Sixth Heaven—wait outside her tent." The fan tapped her chin. "While she finishes supper."

"The arrogance," said Violet, scandalized in her blue silk, "of it. We flew here from another war, Kicho-chan. Nobu-kun shot a demon lord's head off this morning before breakfast. And she makes us stand in line like petitioners at a temple fair—"

"—behind a ration session—"

"—I have half a mind to teleport directly into that tent and see what is so precious—"

"Both of you," Shiro said quickly, hands raised, stepping bodily between the two witches and the direction of the main camp, wearing the specific expression of a shrine diplomat defusing a holy catastrophe.

"Please. I beg you. These are the troops who just saved our shrine's lives—every rider in this camp—and I promise you, however it sounds, there is an explanation."

"The Uesugi marched a very long way, at speed, through hostile country, to reach us—they may have had no proper meal in days. A field commander who eats is a field commander who commands better. It is rational. Let us not read arrogance into—" she paused, "—ration."

"Ration," repeated Violet.

"Ration," confirmed Shiro, with dignity, and did not meet their eyes.

Kicho's fan was shaking slightly. Whether with fury or suppressed laughter, history did not record.