February 19, 1855 atop Mt Fuji, Japan
Tsume scooped a handful of snow and pressed it over his face. It was colder than Tsume normally liked, but it was nice to finally feel some water after that hellpit in the temple. He grabbed another handful of snow to eat. Tsume could feel his thirst being satiated as the snow melted in his mouth. Dehydration would no longer be- Ow, brainfreeze.
"Oh wow. I feel like queen of the world up here," Azusa said as she climbed the stairs out of the temple.
"So, where can we find Sensei?" Kennosuke added.
"There was part of a torii {arch}in front of the cave," Tsume answered.
"So, we just need to find the torii."
"More like whatever is left of it."
"SENSEI!" Azusa yelled, producing a massive echo, before grasping her chest in agony, "Remind me not to do that."
Tsume closed his eyes to use his gift, but fear persuaded him otherwise. He could still feel that menacing presence from earlier deep in his core. Even if it meant walking around Fuji until dawn, Tsume was not ready to face that thing again. Instead, it would probably be best just to try to find the arch with his regular eyes.
Tsume scanned the view from the mountain for a flicker of flames and a band of samurai. What he saw instead stole his breath. A cloud was passing below him. From up here, he could see all of Fuji's five lakes. The moon still hung in the sky, giving all of the distant snowy mountains a mystical type of glow. Behind Tsume, a bowl shape was seemingly cut from the mountain. He had heard of the crater before, but never believed that his own eyes would get to see it.
It was then that Tsume noticed the remains of a massive torii laying before the exit of the temple. It aligned with another, still complete, torii far below. In the distance, Tsume could spot the night lights of Fujiyoshida, a small town that the Assassins had bypassed while tracking the Templars. The entrance to the mountain would have been south of that town, which meant that the Assassins would only have to descend straight ahead. With all of these things in mind, spotting the smoke of Perry's fire was easy enough.
Tsume sighed in the freezing mountain air, "I know where to find Sensei."
"Do you think Perry will be there?" Kennosuke replied.
"I can guarantee it."
"Then let's go."
"Yeah, how?"
"Um," Tsume hadn't thought of that. They would certainly have to expect a fight at the end. While the path looked to be smooth, that could actually be a problem. The snow could pack into ice and he had always heard that Fuji's slopes were as fine as sand.
Azusa's broken ribs made her the weak link now. Tsume or Kennosuke would have to escort her down. Tsume was more capable of escorting her. Then again, while Kennosuke's arm could make him less capable of handling Azusa, it would definitely make him less capable of combat. Tsume would give anything for an easier answer right now.
"Kennosuke, do you think you can help Azusa down the mountain?"
"Perhaps. Here, Azusa," Kennosuke lifted her arm over his shoulder.
"KUSO {SHIT}!" Azusa jerked her arm back. Apparently, Kennosuke had forgotten how much he towered over everyone else present. Tsume, on the other hand, was no taller than the plainly average-height Azusa. The burden was apparently going to have to fall to Tsume.
"Azusa, we're going to have to get down this mountain somehow," Tsume cautioned.
"Yeah, I'm aware, but there has to be another way."
"I'm not seeing any other options. Now, if you'd like to go back through that temple and down that staircase we burned, then be my guest."
Azusa rolled her eyes, "What was your plan again?"
"Well, you hang onto me, and we'll walk down."
Azusa alternated between biting her upper and lower lip. She looked around at the other two Assassins while silently nodding her head. She then approached the slope of the mountain with contemplation deep in her eyes. Very cautiously, she lowered herself until she was sitting in the snow. Then, without any warning, her arms pushed her body down. She had made sacred Fuji-san into her slide.
Whether it was fear for Azusa's safety or desire for efficient travel or how flat-out fun that looked, Tsume found himself wanting to do the same. He glanced over to Kennosuke, who seemed a bit less excited. Tsume smiled and nodded. Kennosuke did not return either. Undeterred, Tsume jumped out and landed his back on the slope. The icy air nipped at his eyes, but he was able to manage. This was somehow more exciting than it looked when Azusa had done it. While he half-expected to break his tailbone on a rock, the snow had made everything smooth enough to move quickly. He didn't appreciate how the snow was riding up his kimono and getting his sarashi wet.
Up ahead, Azusa had slowed to a stop. Tsume tried to slow his pace by jamming his feet into the mountain, but it was too smooth to make much of a difference. He made a little more progress by kicking, but only a little. Gradually though, his efforts were rewarded and his speed slowed to a crawl and soon enough a full stop only a few yards above Azusa.
"Hey, are you okay?" Tsume stood up and wiped the snow off the outside of his kimono. The inside could wait.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Azusa winced a bit, "Do you really think we can do it?"
"I don't know. Do you think Sensei is really worth it? I mean, you were right back in the temple. We don't stand a chance if Perry wants to kill us, but we already have what he wants. Would Sensei want us to give up something like this?"
"Yeah, he's our Sensei. He has to have a plan to deal with the Templars. I mean, he convinced Perry to send us together."
Despair dropped Tsume back into the snow. Once again, the cold flooded him with an odd sense of relief. That relief was forced back out by his own dread.
"It's a trap," Tsume informed Azusa, "Perry is going to kill us."
"No he won't. Sensei wouldn't have sent us in if he didn't have a plan."
"You say that like he had a choice."
"What makes you so sure that Perry is still down there?"
"As I recall, Sensei was tied up and alone. I doubt he could escape that."
"Never compromise the Brotherhood. It's the third tenet of our Creed. He wouldn't put us in danger if he didn't know he could save us."
"Sure. Okay."
"Sensei would never break the Creed."
Kennosuke sped down the mountain, not even slowing his slide to reconvene with the others.
"Even if it's a trap, leaving him behind would be compromising the Brotherhood."
Azusa was right. Too many fellow Assassins depended upon Sensei for training and leadership. Leaving him to die without a fight would break the third tenet.
"So, do you need a push?" Tsume asked.
"I thought that was a given," Azusa flipped her hood back on.
Tsume pushed her by the shoulders and jumped forward himself. As he began sliding again, he noticed how his speed continued to increase. At this rate, and with Sensei's fire as a beacon, they would be at the base in no time.
Three hours later
'What took you so long?" Sensei greeted his recruits at the base of Fuji-san. He was not tied. No samurai or shinobi or Templars stood about. Many laid dead, but Perry was not among them. His bonfire had been reduced to embers by now. It revealed the picked bones of a small animal among the ashes.
"Um, I think a better question would be: 'How did you do this?'" Tsume answered.
"Yeah," Azusa added, "Please teach us how to do this."
"Fundamentals," Sensei replied, "Did you find anything?"
Kennosuke removed the parchment from his kimono, "We did."
Sensei snatched it from his student, "Very good. Very very good."
"If you don't mind me asking, what is it?"
"It's part of the journal of Tiago Lopes."
"Who?" Azusa asked.
"He was an Assassin in Japan during the Sengoku. He worked with a team of Assassins and and this journal will tell us where to find a very special treasure."
Tsume shook his head, "So this whole thing is over treasure? Aren't the Templars already super rich? What good will they get from treasure?"
"This is not that kind of treasure. You'll understand soon enough, but right now we need to rest and get ready for the Templar's next plan. How is everyone holding up?"
"Kennosuke got his arm torn and Azusa broke her ribs."
"And you?"
"I scraped my hand," Tsume showed his palm, "By the way, I have a question for you."
"Ask away."
"Am I really descended from Sasuke?"
"Fuck if I know. Maruya comes from Kasai, but that's the only one I know for sure."
"Actually," Azusa interrupted, "I really am related to Goemon."
The group grew silent with their eyes on Azusa. If what she was saying were true, then Perry and Sensei were right about what the journal said about descendants. No, that couldn't be possible. There was no way some dead guy could have predicted who would have gotten into the temple two hundred years later.
"Not how you think. His brother Kazumasa was my ancestor," Azusa continued.
"Wait, Ishikawa Kazumasa?" Sensei interjected.
Azusa sighed, "He worked with Toyotomi."
"Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the Templar shogun."
"I guess. I have no idea, but Goemon was my inspiration to become an Assassin. I guess there is more to the story than I thought. Sensei, why is Goemon so important to this place?"
"During the Sengoku, a young man named Tiago Lopes sailed from Portugal to Japan. He joined the Assassins and sought to find a great treasure. He traveled with four other Assassins: Ishikawa Goemon, Sarutobi Sasuke, Kirigakure Saizo, and Kasai Yuzuru. I don't know much about them. We don't know where they searched or if they moved the treasure. All we know is that they found what they were looking for."
"Sensei," Kennosuke tugged a corner of the parchment so he could see some of it, "What kind of code is this? I know these are English letters, but they don't make sense."
Sensei's eyebrow peaked, "The first layer of code will be simple enough. It's called 'Portuguese.'"
"Portuguese," Tsume contemplated aloud, "You mean the empire that wanted to take over Japan? They have a special code?"
"Well, it's a language. There is a code, but I'm not good with codes. Even if we can translate it into English or Japanese, it won't make any damned sense. Virginia should be able to crack it, so I'll deliver it to Nagasaki," Sensei rubbed his brow, "Before we go, I want you to be armed."
"You got our weapons back?" Kennosuke asked with an odd kind of skeptical optimism.
"No. Just pick up some weapons from the samurai. They won't be using them any more."
Tsume broke into a proud smile. He wanted to say that he approved of Sensei's suggestion, but it was not his place to approve of anything. Instead he crouched over the samurai corpse nearest to where he stood. He recognized this corpse. It had a massive dent in the helmet that Tsume had made with a kanabo. No man with a wound like that would need his swords any longer.
"But Sensei," Kennosuke protested, "There is no honor in robbing the dead."
"When have we ever cared about honor?" Tsume posited as he tucked his new katana and wakizashi into his obi, "We are Asashin {Assassins}. Honor isn't exactly a priority."
"I agree with Kennosuke," Azusa added, "We don't know what kind of condition these swords are in. I say we wait until we get back to town and purchase new swords. Besides, handling the dead is bad luck."
"These are good!" Tsume held up the swords he had just stolen. Azusa and Kennosuke both stared disapproval at him as if he needed a special brand of audacity to be so eager with thieving a corpse. "Anyone?" he offered, "I mean, some of these swords have to be better than the swords we-"
"No!" Kennosuke objected, "Those weapons were gifts from my jisan {uncle}! I'll go without until I find them."
Sensei's sword flashed through the air in front of Kennosuke, forcing him to take a step back.
"Can you block THAT with your hands, Maruya?" Sensei sheathed his blade.
Kennosuke regained his focus, "You trained us to fight unarmed."
"I know that. I don't remember training you to question orders."
"No, you trained us to be Asashin."
"Don't make me regret it," Sensei stepped into Kennosuke's space. While Kennosuke was the taller of the two, Tsume could almost see him shrinking into Sensei's shadow.
Kennosuke closed his eyes and whispered, "I'll need some help." He raised his left arm to show that it was still bloody and torn.
Sensei nodded, "Washio, help him."
February 19, 1855 in Fujiyoshida, Japan
A man crossed the street from his office to a soup shop. A cursory glance at his singular longsword and cropped -but nowhere shaven- hair identified him as a doctor. He must have been getting his lunch. Sensei pointed to him through the unusual lack of a crowd. Tsume suspected that he knew what Sensei wanted him to say.
Tsume had never seen a place where industry was a spotty hum rather than a constant flurry. Yet here he was, standing in the midst of his first small town at the tender young age of seventeen. The emptiness of the avenue reminded him of rainy days in Edo. People had a tendency to drop things they carried as they escaped a little water from the sky. Oftentimes, it was food they would leave scattered in the road. Tsume always enjoyed rainy days for that reason. This was a cold day in the sun, so Tsume would have to pay for his food here. Pity.
The smell of pork and vegetables barely managed to plow through the chilly air to Tsume's nose. Much like the rest of the town, this tempura stand was only barely a step above desolate. Two patrons sat on the stools, but the stand was deigned to accommodate at least ten. Tsume would have forgiven it for this, but it was much bigger than the average Edo tempura stand and appeared to be one of very few such places in town. It should have much more business at this time of day.
"Excuse me," Tsume bowed, "You are a doctor, correct?"
"Call me Hanamoto-sensei {Dr Hanamoto}," the doctor peeked over his shoulder, "Is there something you need?"
"I scraped this," Tsume showed his left palm, "I think I bruised my ass sliding down Fuji-san."
Dr Hanamoto overlooked the hand entirely, "Keep the hand clean and you won't get an infection. As for your butt, try not to sit for extended periods of time."
"Thanks, doctor," Tsume bowed a little.
A concern crossed the doctor's face when he got a good look at Tsume, "What happened to your shoulder?" His chopsticks pointed to the bloodstain on Tsume's kimono.
"I got into a fight. The blood isn't mine."
"Oh, okay. You have a nice day," the doctor took a bite of his pork tempura and returned his focus to the stand.
"Actually, I have more."
Hanamoto's hand jutted into the air to pause Tsume and allow himself time to finish chewing.
"My friends need your help," Tsume continued as soon as the doctor swallowed.
"If they take a seat in my office," he pointed to the building across the street, "I will be with them as soon as I've finished my lunch."
"But Azusa broke her ribs."
Dr Hanamoto dropped a few mon onto the counter, "Hachi, I need to take care of a patient. I'll bring back your basket once I'm done with her," he faced Tsume with the small tempura basket in one hand and his chopsticks in the other, "Where are they?"
"This way," Tsume led the doctor away from the stand and up the road where the other Assassins waited. As expected, Azusa held to her chestlike she was trying to keep it from exploding. Kennosuke's makeshift bandage had already soaked as much blood as it could hold and was staining the road with spots of a very dark brown. Sensei's scrapes looked exceptionally clean and minor by comparison.
"You didn't tell me one of your friends was a gaijin {barbarian}," Hanamoto said with a strange tension.
"Ignore me," Sensei commented in Japanese, "My students need treatment. I do not."
Hanamoto slowly nodded and pointed to Azusa and Kennosuke with his chopsticks, "The two of you come with me," he then glared at Sensei, "My services are not open to gaijin," his elbow touched Tsume's cleaner shoulder, "You should go take a bath in the hot spring. It's just around the corner down the road. Welcome to Fujiyoshida."
With that, Dr Hanamoto guided Kennosuke and Azusa into his office, leaving Sensei and Tsume to stand in the cold. Tsume looked down. Apparently the doctor had dropped a piece of tempura from his basket. Tsume picked it up and dusted it off.
"Surely you're not going to eat that," Sensei half-warned.
"Surely I am," Tsume ate the pork. It was still warm from the fryer. Juice squeezed out onto his tongue. It was a fine piece of pork; perhaps the best pork Tsume had ever eaten. He smiled to Sensei, "Are you hungry?"
"No, but you are. Grab something you can eat on horseback."
"What do you need me to do?"
"Take some horses and go back to Edo with Garen. Inform Kasai and find out what the Templars are doing there. I'll catch up when Maruya and Ishikawa have been diagnosed."
"Garen is here?"
"I told him to meet us here in case something went wrong."
February 19, 1855 on the road to Edo
Tsume's ship crashed into a rock on the coast. He stepped onto the scorched shore, careful to avoid the boiling remains of the sea. The smells of salt and death were intensified by the heat of an expanding sun. He ran through a whithered brown field to find the moon and end the heat. The sun was drawing closer until it tore open Tsume's eyelids.
"Kuso, I'm awake!" Tsume yelled. He must have fallen asleep on horseback while Garen was nearby. Considering Garen's relative lack of stability, that was most decidedly unsafe.
"You really are turning into Joseph," Garen retorted. He had not been in one of his good moods lately. That wasn't always a negative and today was hopefully one of those better days. His mood had peaked at grouchy thus far, but Tsume did not want to risk anything that could push him into more violent territory. Tsume needed to remember to kick himself later for dropping his guard around Garen.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tsume flipped his hood back over his head.
"You say that like it's a good thing."
"He's higher-ranked than you."
Garen did not answer that with words. Rather he gave Tsume the same look Sensei had given him the morning before. The rest of the trip was the sound of hooves and ashamed silence. Tsume really wanted to ask Garen how Sensei had gotten out of his situation, too.
February 28, 1855 in Edo, Japan
Tsume came to the training ground where his fellow recruits (save for the wounded Azusa and Kennosuke) had gathered in formation before Asuka and Sensei. Tsume had finally replaced his hidden blade just a day before, but he still carried the swords of those samurai which were riddled with subtle defects he hadn't noticed before. He needed to remember to get them fixed sometime soon.
"The Templar Egawa Hidetatsu has made his move," Sensei announced, "He began burning Japanese books an hour ago."