Daimon sat in front of his class as they sat cross legged on his classroom floor emulating him as he made a mark on the paper before each of them. He took pride in the crude symbols the children produced as he continued his free lessons to teach them all to read and write. It was another crisp but warm morning outside as the birds chirped happily in the trees to greet the morning sun. This is how life was supposed to be, he thought. There is no need for it to be any other way.

As if the universe wanted to punish Daimon for that random and unnatural thought a man appeared in the grounds outside his class. He wore long sweeping robes made of fine material, much finer than to be worn by an ordinary peasant. Sat on his nose was a pair of squared spectacles. Hanging from the back of his head was a top knot indicating his position within the Samurai. Daimon silently cursed as he recognised the sight of Matsuzaki staring at him as he taught his class, silently calling for his attention. Daimon dismissed his class and told them to be back in fifteen minutes before he walked out to meet Matsuzaki. Neither men greeted each other as friends as the seriousness of the situation passed over Daimon. Matsuzaki never made direct calls on him at the school without an urgent requirement.

And he was not disappointed…

Kurenai had slept poorly the night before. She kept the letter the Frenchman had given her for Ichimatsu beside her bed and it served as a worrying reminder to her that something was up but she didn't know what? She sat patiently on the side of the stage waiting for Ichimatsu to return. In her hand was a small bowl of rice that had been forced into her hand by the owner who had noted that she hadn't eaten anything all morning and the midday sun was now hanging high in the sky.

She seemed to nibble on her food not really savouring its taste all the while never taking her eyes off the door. More than once a figure approached and raised her spirits only to be dashed as the figure carried on by. Kurenai felt a small pressure placed on her left foot and she looked down to find a small cat looking up at her. Kurenai smiled as reached down and picked up the cat, the tavern's unoffical mascot, who purred loudly as she stroked the length of his back.

"Sorry!" she said smiling. "But you're not the Ichimatsu I am waiting for."

"Or me!" Kurenai's glance shot towards the door to see Daimon standing in the doorway hs face cold and hard. Kurenai placed the cat on the floor and walked towards him, worry consuming her. She had concluded that if Daimon was here at this time of day and Ichimatsu wasn't back then maybe his luck has finally run out? Maybe he's…

"I take it you're not here to pay your tab?" she said almost jokingly. Daimon's face didn't flinch.

"Is Ichimatsu back yet?" he asked.

"No!" she said confused and relieved as she came to realise that Daimon wasn't here to give her the news she feared.

"Good!" said Daimon. "The Council has received intelligence that there maybe an attempt on Ichimatsu's life. It's possible his cover has been blown. I have been sent here because the Council believes the assassin has already made contact with you."

"The Frenchman!" she gasped in realisation. Her instincts had been correct. He was an assassin!

"Yes!" added Daimon. "They believe that the assassin is known for killing his victims using poison stained letters."

"He gave me a letter for Ichimatsu! He said it was about his mother" She explained.

"Of course!" said Daimon. "It would be irresistible to him. Where is the letter now?" Kurenai eased open her Kimono and reached down into her bosom to produce an envelope much to the surprise of Daimon. As she handed it to him he looked at her and asked, "Any for me in there?"

"No!" shot Kurenai. "So what are you going to do with it?"

"The council has asked me to bring it to Matsuzaki. That's all I know except for one other thing. I have instructions that we are not to disclose this to Ichimatsu no matter what. I have been asked to insure that you are clear on this instruction and will carry it out?"

"What?" gasped Kurenai! "Why? If there is to be further attempts on Ichimatsu's life then he has a right to know."

"The Council has assured me that this is necessary for them to complete their investigation. That is all I know!" explained Daimon in an almost monotonous and rehearsed tone. Kurenai immediately picked up on the fact that even he wasn't happy with the arrangement.

"Daimon! He is you're friend. He has saved your life on more than one occasion. You owe it to him to tell Ichimatsu the truth!"

"Tell me what?"

Both Daimon and Kurenai looked over to find the shaggy looking young man they were both referring to standing in the doorway. Ichimatsu – The Samurai Gun Number Seven.