April 19, 1855 in Edo, Japan
Tsume tossed another kunai into a post in his wall. This one stuck, unlike the last few attempts. His speed was improving, which was good. The leaf-shaped blade looked like it had quickly sprouted from the the post. He pulled two of his knives from the new makeshift tree and the other four from the floor. He carefully tucked them into the left of his obi as Asuka had instructed, so they would not accidentally stab their owner in the gut. Weapons were treacherous like that.
Tsume gave pause to think about his johyo lesson as well. It involved using the kunai as a weight for something sensei called a rope dart. Yet Asuka called it a johyo. That was such an odd lesson. Sensei's own lessons usually only covered basics like stealth and freerunning. He generally left the weapons training to Asuka with the exception of the hidden blade and the sword. But that lesson … Sensei was not one to share his teaching time. It was only appropriate, Tsume assumed. Such a versatile weapon would require several more lessons just to refine the fundamental uses.
Tsume withdrew a rope and a kunai. He slid the rope through the eye at the end of the kunai's hilt. He managed to fashion it into a rough knot. The johyo-making process had been giving Tsume a special kind of hell since it was introdu-
"That's close, but not how it- Oh come on. Don't tell me THAT made you jump."
Tsume actually did jump with such grace that he instead fell back into Joseph, who was thankfully present to catch him. That was actually the problem.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Tsume pulled away from his savior/tormentor, "I have half a mind to stab you with this thing!"
"And I hope the other half disagrees," Joseph pushed down Tsume's arm which extended a kunai, "I trust you're ready to go to the port."
"I will be in a few minutes. I need to fix this knot."
"Let me see it," Joseph snatched the johyo and fiddled with the rope and the kunai's eye. Tsume tried to keep up with the motions, but Joseph finished too soon. It was a perfect knot with a large loop to wrap around things if necessary.
Tsume snatched it back and gently inserted it into his obi next to its kunai brethren, "I suppose I'm ready."
The weather outside was raining lightly, but the sun could be seen in the distance. Tsume had left his tabi and geta back in his room. These last few years had taught him that there was not a feeling worse than cold feet ... except maybe having your face torn open by a pirate or whatever that thing was in Mt Fuji. Anyhow, Tsume preferred the feeling of wet feet that would dry quickly over the feeling of wet socks that stayed wet. The wet ground made the decision easier.
"Tsume!" Kennosuke called out, "Tsume, I need a favor."
"What is it?" Tsume may or may not have resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I heard that you were going to Shimazu Nariakira's estate. Correct?"
"Hai, that I am."
"According to Sensei, Shimazu was the one who took our weapons. If you find my swords, could you return them to me?"
"Sure," Tsume began to walk away.
"What do the swords look like?" Joseph inquired Kennosuke and agitated Tsume.
Kennosuke brushed some wet hair out of his eyes, "The katana belonged to my father. It was about as long as your arm and curved. It has the Maruya name and a Christian cross carved into the nakago {tang}. It also has a very basic tsuba."
Well that was helpful. No, that was the opposite of helpful. Even if Tsume could find a sword so generic, he would need to take apart the hilt to see inside.
Joseph curled his left finger over his chin, "And what about the wakizashi?"
"The tsuba {crossguard} is also very basic. The hilt is wrapped in white silk. The nagako has the names of Kasai Yuzuru and Muramasa Sengo. It belonged to my jisan {uncle}."
Mon flashed in Tsume's eyes, "You did just say Muramasa, right?"
"I did."
"You've been carrying a Muramasa around this whole time?"
Kennosuke's head shifted a bit to focus one eye on Tsume, "Yes?"
"Do you have any idea how valuable those are?"
"I do. It's been in my family longer than Tokugawa has been in Edo."
"No, I mean you could get rich by selling it to the right buyer."
"Yes, I know, but I don't want to sell it. Besides, it isn't enough to make me rich."
"At least not for long," Joseph added.
"But could you find it? Kudasai {Please}?"
Tsume explored the possibilities in his head. If he found it, he could sell it and make some money or return it to Kennosuke and maybe make him less annoying. Alternatively, if he didn't find it, then no harm would be done. Maybe some lost time. No, time was important.
"If we find it, we'll return it to you. Okay, Kenny?" Joseph answered for Tsume.
"Domo arigato {Thank you much}, Kent-san and Washio-san," Kennosuke bowed.
Tsume's eyes rolled, "Hai, we'll do that, but I'd like not to miss Shimazu-san's arrival. Joseph, iku ze {let's go}."
Tsume started toward the dock, not paying attention if Joseph was following. There was nothing to worry about anyway. Tsume heard Joseph's frantic steps closing the distance behind him. Nothing to worry about.
Up ahead Tsume saw something very strange. A samurai on patrol in his armor. Colorful threads held up the metal bands around his chest and legs. Tsume had seen samurai armor once before at Fuji-san, but those were samurai ready for combat. Had the Assassins caused such a stir in Edo that samurai had jumped to their guard? That would make working in secret much more important. No room for error. Tsume didn't like that thought.
"I don't think we'll get there very fast from the ground," Joseph gravitated toward a building, "It would probably be best if we stay on the rooftops."
Tsume nodded.
April 19, 1855 at Uraga Harbor in Edo, Japan
"Something wrong, Tsume?" Joseph asked with a look of concern.
Tsume's eyes scoured the colored roofs of the warehouses. He was close to the one where he and Hitsu were orphaned. He would know when he saw its blue roof and siding.
He didn't want to see it. The blood of his parents may still stain the floor. Takahiro-san may even still own it. If he had just not allowed Perry inside, Tsume's parents would still be here. He felt his veins tighten as the memory of that day returned to his mind. While not a day passed without crossing his mind, it remained an unwelcome thought.
"Okay, something is wrong and you're going to tell me," Joseph halted in Tsume's path.
Tsume paused to consider if Joseph could be trusted, "Promise not to tell?"
"On my mother's grave," he raised his hand with an exposed palm. Tsume still had a ways to go before he could hope to understand this American culture and its idioms.
"I assume that means..."
"On my honor."
"Your honor as an Asashin?"
"Just tell me."
Tsume pointed to the blue roofed warehouse, "My parents died there."
Joseph's hand landed on Tsume's shoulder in an attempt of reassurance, "Hey, on the bright side, you're with us now, so..."
"What does it matter? Sensei had already sent Asuka to look for me."
"Maybe she never would have found you."
"It's the same difference. She would have found me eventually and I would get to be an Asashin with a family."
"What about Hitsu?"
"Hitsu would have been spared anyway," Tsume could feel the anger rising in his chest. Hitsu very nearly suffered the same fate as Tsume's numerous other brothers and sisters. Tsume himself was fortunate to have been the firstborn with enough time to become strong before the second child was born.
"I think you're overestimating Sensei's generosity," Joseph removed his hand to face the sparkling sea, "But we should be going now. Time's wasting."
Tsume nodded and followed. At least Joseph was right about that much, but he was wrong about Sensei. The Asashin were the protectors of the weak. Of course they'd have taken in his family. They already took in Hitsu without a problem.
Before Tsume knew it, he and Joseph were staring down the ledge of a warehouse and at the ships docked in the port. Many of them were the old Japanese ships with triangular sails, but others were clearly foreign. Some had large square sails, yet others spit black smoke. He and heard of them before in whispers of Commodore Perry's black ships. Still today, Tsume could not grasp how anyone could make a burning ship float.
Many flags adorned each of these ships. Tsume frankly only recognized those of Tokugawa and the Americans. Some of the others he recognized from his studies, but they did not spark any names in his mind.
Joseph leapt from the rooftop and into a cart of hay below. The moment he stepped out, he was threatened by a man with a pichfork. Tsume could not hear the ensuing argument, but decided to leap into the stack while everyone was distracted.
"Nanda kore {What is this}?!" the hay man screamed upon the second Assassin's landing.
As Tsume looked up, the man's pitchfork now attempted to threaten him. It was not necessarily a successful attempt, as Tsume removed it from his aggressor's hands before returning his feet to the ground. The man fumbled his tool and stared warily at the two Assassins.
"Sumimasen {Excuse me} senpai," Joseph approached the man using his unconvincing Japanese accent, "but I am looking for the freshest eel that Uraga can offer. Could you perhaps tell me where to find it?"
Perhaps it was Joseph's alien formality to a farmer. Perhaps it was the oblivious manner he asked a favor of a man he had just disturbed. Perhaps it was some combination of the two. Whichever it may have been, the man appeared so dumbstruck that he dropped his pitchfork.
"Do you know how much mon you cost me?!" the man screamed. It was questionable if he even knew the answer to that question.
"Five mon?" Joseph reached for the coin purse in his kimono. Even outside of America, Joseph always kept some America with him.
The farmer's face straightened with a slight grin trying not to curl in the corner, "Seven mon."
"I will give you ten if you tell me where to find the eel."
From behind, Tsume heard the iconic blast of a horagai {conch horn}. A ship moved into the shore as men wearing only their fundoshi {underwear} pulled the ship into a frame by a trio of ropes. The waves seemed to make their job rather arduous by pushing and pulling the boat any which way it desired. Yet their patience was rewarded when they managed to tie the ship onto the docks. Water poured from a hole in the ship, ensuring that it would remain seaworthy for its next voyage.
"Hey Tsume," Joseph interrupted, "Follow me. I know where to go."
"For eel?" Tsume followed Joseph past the newly docked ship, "I thought you didn't like fish."
"Well I wasn't going to ask him where we could stalk the daimyo."
"So you asked about eel."
"Yeah. The best of everything will be sold where the rich like to play."
"But we are not in Yoshiwara."
"No, we are in Uraga. Wherever the daimyo land is where we will find the best of everything."
"No, Yoshiwara is where you find the best of everything."
"Last I saw, Yoshiwara didn't have a port."
"When were you in Yoshiwara?"
"Don't worry about it and don't judge me."
"I'm not going to judge you. By the way, how will we know which ship belongs to Shimazu?"
Joseph began searching his kimono for something, "We got a letter from Daniel late last year. Said that Shimazu was building western-style ships. So, my guess is that he would be on one of those."
"But isn't that frowned upon?" Tsume mused aloud, "It would make more sense if he came in a Japanese ship."
"If they cared about being frowned upon, Egawa would still be alive. Nice work on that, by the way. I think the Templars want to force everyone to adjust. Get used to seeing all of this America around."
"That means you won't be missing home for much longer." The thought of Japan becoming American made Tsume cringe inside. Joseph and Sensei were the only Americans he had developed any fondness toward and as starry-eyed as their descriptions of home had mostly been, Tsume could not ignore the accounts they told of the Indo-jin {Indians}. The massacres and slavery and conquest washed away any good that Tsume heard. None of these were anything Tsume ever wanted to see; least of all in Japan. Tsume could not have even considered the idea of slavery just a few years ago. He wished that he had never even learned that much.
The smells of the food booths along the road were beginning to improve. The cheap sushi was being replaced with real, more expensive cooked food. They really were moving in the right direction.
Ahead in the distance, Tsume eyed a ship distinguished by its massive size and excessive number of sails. It towered over the other ships as a mountain of fabric and wood. Innumerable cannons peeked through doors in the hull to threaten any who would dare to harm it. Definitely of foreaign design.
"Impressive, isn't it?" a low unfamiliar voice said from behind. Tsume glanced over to see a man with the bearing of a samurai. His fingers ran down the hairs of his beard as he admired the great foreign vessel. The samurai looked back at Tsume with what looked to be a smile of relief, "Its name is the Shohei-Maru. First western style ship made by the people of Nippon in over two centuries."
"I'be never seen anything like it," Tsume answered, somewhat wary of the samurai.
"It really isn't that great," Joseph tried not to laugh, "It's a modern antique."
The samurai faced the Assassin, "It may not be one of the kurofune {black ships} of Mashuperi, but it is a solid step in the right direction."
"You'll need to make better than this of you want to stand a chance against a modern navy."
"I would argue with that. The Shohei-Maru does not require fuel like the black ships."
"They don't need nearly as much fuel as you think," Joseph pulled and lit his pipe.
"Only enough to turn, I know. Shipbuilding has not changed as much as you think."
"It's definitely changed more than you think."
The samurai smirked, "I would need to study this more. What is your name? I would enjoy more conversations like this with a gaikoku-hito."
"Clayton Maxwell," Joseph puffed to hide his lying mouth.
"Kureiton Makusu-" the samurai stuttered and struggled to say Joseph's fake name as if he had swallowed his own tongue, "Konnichiwa Kureiton-san, I am Sakuma Shozan, but please call me Shozan until I learn to pronounce your full name."
Shozan extended his hand to Joseph. When Joseph shook it in return, Shozan bowed. Tsume was taken aback by this bizarre merging of Japanese and Western customs. Of course the samurai were up to no good.
"And who is your samurai friend?" Shozan motioned to an internally twitching Tsume.
Tsume raised his hand to answer for his friend, "Shiro Tsubasa."
Shozan bowed, "Pleased to meet you... Shiro-san, but have we not met once before?"
"I don't recall," Tsume's blood rushed through his head. The last thing an Assassin ever needed was to be recognized by someone outside of the Order.
"I know I have seen that scar, but I don't remember where."
Garen was right about the scar. Tsume would need to find some way to hide the thing. He covered his most identifiable feature with his hand, "Have you been to Yoshiwara recently?"
"No, too many distractions there. Oh, speaking of distractions, look," Shozan motioned to the boat. A portly man in a very formal brown kimono accompanied by a band of samurai exited his ship and onto Edo's harbor.
"Do you know who that is? That is Shimazu Nariakira, the daimyo of Satsuma," Shozan explained as if he were preparing to become a joyous explosion, "I would give anything for a chance to meet him. Or visit Dejima. I can never decide which is more important."
"Dejima is nice enough," Tsume answered, "and I am also planning on meeting Shimazu while he is still in Edo."
"I envy you greatly, Shiro-san."
"Yes well," Joseph interrupted, "We actually did not come here to meet Shimazu-sama. We just want some good eel right now."
"Indeed. I wish you the best," Shozan bowed, "I am going to try to speak to Shimazu-sama. Sayonara!"
"Sayonara, Shozan-san" Joseph grabbed Tsume's arm and changed his language to English, "What is wrong with you, Tsume?"
"What do you mean?" Tsume answered in the same language, still touching his scar.
"Where do I begin? Your alias was obviously fake. White wing? That's ridiculous. Then you told him that we planned on meeting Shimazu, which no one needed to know. Then you told him about Dejima and Yoshiwara. I should stick a sign on you that reads 'Not an Assassin.'"
Tsume rolled his eyes, "What was I supposed to do?"
"Have a better story. Know who you want people to think you are. Understood?"
"I suppose," Tsume did not want another lecture. He wanted to be treated as an equal to Joseph. After all, Joseph never killed Egawa Hidetatsu, "Do you want to get some food?"
"Yes, but not right now. We need to watch Shimazu," Joseph approached a pair of baskets that rose up to his waist, "Let's slip into these until he's outside of our vision. I think they can hold me, so they can definitely hold you."
Tsume had come to accept the short jokes from Joseph. They weren't particularly funny, but they were the sounds Joseph made whenever he opened his mouth. However, the basket did in fact leave a lot of room for Tsume to move while reeking of rotten fish. It would be nice if Joseph could be wrong a litte more often.
Through the gaps in the basket, Tsume observed Shimazu brushing away Shozan. Then he was approached by an equally chubby man. The man seemed somewhat familiar. The Assassin used his gift to pick up on the conversation.
"Shimazu-sama! How long has it been?" the fat man bowed as deeply as his belly would allow.
Shimazu returned the greeting, "Not long enough, Abe-san. I trust you know that I am more looking forward to seeing my wife than carrying out another meeting so soon."
"Yes, Shimazu-sama. Tokugawa's laws are most cruel. If you would not wish to hold the meeting at my estate, then could we perhaps hold it at your estate?"
"I just told you. I have not seen my wife in months. I would quite enjoy to see her again before we have another meeting."
"Could we speak on the way to your estate?"
"Discretion is a powerful ally. Has it not occurred to you that eyes may be upon us? Do you remember the Asashin from Fuji-san?"
"Hai, I do. However, if we speak in silence, then they would be better to hear us. If we speak in the crowd, our voices would be drowned."
Shimazu beamed.
"That way," Abe continued, "We could also avoid wasting your time to see your wife."
"Now you are thinking like the Asashin. That's good, because I need something of you."
"What is it, Shimazu-sama?"
Tsume only felt a push before his face struck the ground. He crawled from the opening of the basket. To see what had just happened. Joseph was partially laying on the ground as though he had fallen. Fish guts spread over his hands.
"I told you to get out," a stranger said with an empty basket in his arms, "Now you're cleaning it."
"Why did you dump fish on me?!"
"Because you did not listen. Now you will clean."
"Hai!" Joseph threw his hands into the air before switching to English, "Tsume, you follow them. I'll deal with this here. Fucking hate fish..."
Tsume nodded and left Joseph to his own devices. Apparently being knocked down had shut off his gift. No matter. He would need it to identify his targets. He turned the corner to see a very thick crowd congesting the streets. Occasionally, he could spot a flicker of gold amidst the heads which obscured his prey. Because of this, he was having a harder time hearing them as well.
Ahead, he spotted a cart that led to a beam jutting from a wall. From there, it would not be much challenge to climb to the rooftop. Then his only challenge would be keeping hidden in case the Templars checked the rooftops behind them.
From atop the buildings, the Assassin had a much more espionage friendly location.
"What do you mean they saw you?" Shimazu's tone was impatient.
"I set the trap," Abe explained, "but she gave my name."
"That should not matter, so why does it matter?"
"Because they survived..."
"How did they survive? Did you not send your best Shinobi?"
"I did not. You had them."
"Are you blaming me for your failure?"
"I would never dream of it, Shimazu-sama."
"Of course not. I still need those men to deal with those kuso pirates around Kyushu."
"Is there anything you would have me do, Shimazu-sama?"
"The Asashin have been growing in numbers and we have not seen much success against them. Train your shinobi better. I want the Edo Asashin in graves. Find their base. Usurp them from below. I do not care how, but do it quickly and quietly. Understand?"
"Hai, Shimazu-sama.