November 3, 1855 in Edo, Japan

"Ohaiyo {Good morning}, Hitsu. What are you painting?" Tsume brushed aside the long branches of the lone sakura tree where his brother liked to get creative.

"A castle," Hitsu smiled over his shoulder before continuing with his brush.

"Edo castle?"

"No, a different castle."

"Which castle?"

Hitsu shrugged. It really did have the kind of sloping walls of Edo castle, but Tsume didn't recognize the white walls and green roofs as Edo castle. Slowly but truly, Hitsu guided the grey paint in a wavy motion across the rooftop. It wasn't a great painting, but it was probably better than most five-year-olds could commit to paper.

"So you're making it up?" Tsume asked.

"Hai."

"What's the story?"

"This is Son Goku," Hitsu pointed to a rather large figure Tsume had assumed to be a tree, "He left treasure here."

"Son Goku?"

"Journey to the West."

"I've never read it."

"Sanzo reads it to me every night."

"What's it about?" Tsume plopped onto the grass.

"It's about a priest and some youkai {monsters} and Son Goku. He's the king of monkeys. He's my favorite. They start in Chuugoku {China}, but they want to go to Indo {India}."

"So, is this castle in Chuugoku or Indo?"

"Nippon {Japan}."

"But you just said they went from Chuugoku to Indo. How did he get to Nippon?"

"I wanted to paint this."

"But you didn't write Journey to the West."

"Yeah, but I like this better."

Tsume smiled and ruffled his brother's hair, "Finish it soon, and I may keep it in my room. I'll be right back."

Hitsu nodded a bit before concern or curiosity grew on his face. Tsume glanced where Hitsu was looking. Through the branches, he saw a woman dressed as a geisha walking toward the Assassin barracks. His first glance suggested Nariko, but a second look showed her to possess a pair of eyes.

Tsume would have made an attempt to greet her, but Joseph was already walking her way with his hands in his pockets and his hood up. Perhaps it would be best of he greeted her alone, in case something were to go awry. They began talking about something indiscernible from this distance. It was a perfect time for his gift to listen from behind the branches.

"But Nariko-san told me to bring this message to Aakuraito," the geisha begged, "It is too important for anyone else to read."

"He isn't seeing anyone right now, but if you'd like to see me, I'm sure we can make that happen."

"Are you sure? It's a very important message."

The traces of a disappointed scowl formed on his face. Tsume wondered what had happened to the Joseph at the station a few years prior, when he tried to teach him how to talk to girls. He seemed so much more experienced back then.

"Well, I was thinking that we could have this very important conversation somewhere else." Joseph muttered, "Alone."

He looked around, possibly trying to hide his pathetic attempt at flirting. Tsume wondered if Daniel had taught him how to do this. Had he intentionally taught him badly? Would he be proud, or ashamed, or amused?

"Yes, in private," she agreed with cheer, "Let us get Aakuraito first, so he can be a part of our private meeting."

Probably not as amused as Tsume was. As a matter of fact, he found this to be an excellent lesson in self-control. Laughing too hard would give away his hiding spot behind the branches.

Joseph scratched the back of his head, "Well, Arkwright-sama isn't seeing anyone right now. I'll just deliver the message for Nariko-san."

"And you promise not to read it?"

"On my honor," Joseph pulled off his hood, exposing his black hair tied in a topknot, "And you should know how important honor is to me."

"I did not know that Asashin have honor," she handed over a paper from her obi.

As Joseph accepted it, their hands seemed to brush one another. He cradled the paper as if it were instead glass. She walked away, flashing him a smile over her shoulder. A sated sigh heaved from his chest.

Some time had passed, and Joseph continued to watch her leaving the area. If Tsume's guess was accurate, he would continue walking until she had left his sight. The time was now. Tsume separated the branches. As Joseph turned about he had a smile that switched from contentment to shock.

"Some charmer you are," Tsume blurted.

"Shit! How long have you been there?" Joseph asked, but his finger accused.

"I came here with you. Remember? Or did she make you forget?"

"Shut up," Joseph brushed past Tsume toward the barracks in the woods.

"You know, I've always wondered why I've never seen you try to talk to a woman and now I get it. You're scared of them."

"Shut up."

"Why do you keep telling me how to talk to girls when you cant even do it?"

"Urusai {Shut up}!" Joseph turned about. His letter crumbled in his fist. His mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for something to say.

"Forget I said anything. Just go. I'm sure it has nothing to do with me anyway."

November 4, 1855 in Yoshiwara, Japan

"I know what the letter said, but I was wondering why she never changed the name," Tsume said over the bustle of Yoshiwara's decidedly colorful avenues. As crowded as this place was during the day, the nightlife was an absolute terror of congestion. Smells of perfumes clouded Tsume's nose so brightly that they almost watered his eyes. Nevertheless, he needed to plow through the masses to the point of his mission.

"Even though Ayame no longer owns the place, we still want the Templars to think they own the place. We even got Mama glass eyes from the West," Kennosuke answered.

"Really? I can't imagine her looking... well, not looking terrifying."

"Please show some respect. She did teach you after all."

"You can't argue with the facts."

Kennosuke's head tilted down with shame, "I'm curious why she never mentioned any details in the letter."

"Probably just didn't want any details getting out. She knows she can trust us."

Kennosuke did not answer. He was likely too busy looking at the signs for Sakura Okiya. He recalled red frames, pink lanterns, and some other stuff he could not be bothered to care about.

"Here we are," Kennosuke drew Tsume's attention to the green building with vibrant green frames and blood red lanterns.

"This must be it. You can definitely tell that whoever put it together must have been blind."

Tsume's comment had gone unnoticed for almost a whole second before a force, presumably Kennosuke's fist, had struck him from behind.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Tsume was not sorry, "I'll show some respect. Just lead the way, ki-sama {honored sir}."

The two were greeted in the unchanged interior by a geisha, who led them to Nariko's room. Inside, Nariko sat on her knees in the same place where Ayame had sat the last time Tsume was here. She touched a cup to the lip of the teapot before filling it with tea. She extended a cup to Kennosuke first, then repeated for Tsume.

"We finally have some information on Abe Masahiro's plans," her voice cracked with a grimness that was unusual, even for the typically solemn Nariko.

"And?" Tsume asked.

"All we know is that one of our clients is involved with him in some way. Templars have been very suspicious when they come to us lately. It is a wonder that we have anything so soon."

"Then why are we here?"

"Because we need to get more information from him. My girls can only do so much before he gets quiet. I think now as good a time as any to force it from him."

"And your girls can't do that?"

"Not if we don't want to make ourselves targets. I want you to find him. Bring him to the location on the back of the letter I sent you."

"There was nothing on the back."

"Only you would be able to read it."

Tsume's brow perked. He was not aware that his gift could see anything invisible like that. He thought it would only show him directions and peoples' value to him.

Nariko continued, "That was why I asked for you specifically, Tsume. We need to work in absolute secrecy. Kennosuke, I want you to be the one who captures him. You are not nearly as notorious as Tsume or his scar."

"How do we catch him?" Kennosuke took a drink without breaking eye contact.

"Isolate him. Make sure he has been drinking sake. The man is a hedonistic fool, so that should not be very hard," Nariko removed a bag from her obi, "Inside this is a cloth with a few drops of a sleep agent. You will cover his mouth with it until he falls asleep."

Tsume pried open the bag and fingered its contents. As he rummaged through the folds for the moisture, a familiar scent struck his nose. He sniffed his finger for the sake of certainty. It was sweet. In fact, it was so sweet that the room blurred for a moment which caused him to shudder.

"Kennosuke," Tsume extended his finger to his comrade, "It's the stuff from Fuji."

Kennosuke shifted a glare from Tsume's hand to his eyes, making very clear that he had no intention of smelling anything, "Okā-san, we will not disappoint you."

On the way out, Tsume observed some of the places where he had fought the shinobi during his last visit. He was glad to see that the blood had been cleaned. A minor glance through his gift showed all of the stains as if they were still new. He did not have time to examine this further though.

Outside on the rooftops, Tsume and Kennosuke observed Yoshiwara's daily celebration from the rooftop. Below, drunkards and rich men cheered and sang along the brewery street, unaware they were being scanned by gifted eyes.

"Nothing yet," Tsume reported.

"Not even a trail?" Kennosuke checked.

"Yes, I saw a trail, but I didn't think it would lead us to the guy. That's why I didn't tell you."

"Okā-san says he's a drinker."

"And that is why we are watching the brewery street instead of the flower gardens."

"Exactly. Keep looking."

"We're in Yoshiwara! Everyone is a hedonist here!"

"Would he be on the oiran {prostitute} street?"

"I would love to check," Tsume shut off his gift, "We have all night thanks to my gift of knowledge and your gift of humor."

"Now is not the time for humor."

"Thanks for letting me know," Tsume jumped over to the next roof without checking if his partner had followed. He knew he would, so that was not an issue.

Within seconds, Tsume spotted a golden beacon near the corner of an oiran house. Tsume pointed "Found him."

"Which one?" Kennosuke leaned forward.

"The one by the brothel."

"Tsume, I need you to be more specific."

"The man surrounded by pretty girls."

"Tsume."

"At the corner of Akai Kitsune. There's only one man at the corner of Akai Kitsune. He is the man we are looking for. There is no one else he could be."

"Okay, I'm going down. Cover me."

Kennosuke dropped himself into an alley and Templar had already strayed and was moving toward the same alley, possibly on his way to a brewery. With the cloth in hand, the Assassin approached the him, "Excuse me, but could you help me identify this perfume?"

The target leaned in for a sniff. As he inhaled, Kennosuke pressed the cloth into his mouth. The Templar gasped in the rest of the sleep agent.

Kennosuke caught his fall and motioned to Tsume, "Come here. Where do we need to take him?"

"Home," Tsume answered.

Kennosuke stiffened with a puzzled look, "Our home?"

"Yes, our home. We want to steal all of our belongings before we set him free. Obviously his home."

"I'm sorry, Tsume, but we don't know where he lives and there could be Templars there."

Tsume stared back at Kennosuke, trying to withhold yet another sarcastic comment. He could only give so many in one day. He hoped that maybe there were some way he could communicate his idea with his face instead of words anyone could hear.

"Tsume? Are you okay?" Kennosuke added concern to his confusion.

"Yes, but our friend Yuudai is drunk and has passed out," Tsume pulled up the unnamed Templar's arm, "We need to take him home where he can sleep."

"I don't remember Oka-san calling him Yuudai. Are you sure you're okay?"

Tsume felt a vessel in his head tense. This charade would be much easier with Joseph. "Yes, Takahiro, I am fine. It is Yuudai who needs help," Tsume drew Nariko's letter from his kimono, "He gave me a map just in case of this occasion."

"Takahiro isn't here and that's Oka-san's lett-" Kennosuke's eyes were widened by what Tsume believed to be an overdue realization, "Oh, right. Yes, we must get our friend home."

Tsume heaved the Templar's arm over his shoulders, as did Kennosuke. They weaved slowly through the Yoshiwara nighttime bustle, sometimes moving around people. Occasionally, they saw other men carrying drunk friends away from the district. Once, he spotted two men carry a samurai toward the brothels. His plan seemed to be working, since the Assassins never attracted more than a second glance.

The Assassins had been out of Yoshiwara with their hostage for about an hour until they reached the destination on Nariko's map. It was an old house. The once-painted frame had cracked in some places. Holes in the wall had been eaten out by mice and rats and other such vermin. Moonlight filled in some cracks, but left even more completely dark. Some graffiti had been painted to the walls by the braver souls of Edo.

It stood as a weathered testament to Japanese superstition. Tsume remembered this house from several years back. He had never visited, but he knew that it was reported to be haunted. Some people said that screaming would occasionally emanate from this building. He felt he would soon know why.

"That looks... comfortable," Tsume said aloud.

"No it doesn't," Kennosuke responded.

"I heard that it's haunted."

"No it isn't."

"Then why aren't you going in?"

Kennosuke adjusted his grip on the man they both carried, "Because you aren't going in."

"Don't you believe in ghosts? After all, you believe in stranger things."

"Of course I do, but this place isn't haunted."

Tsume approached the door first. He gripped the frame where he would normally slide it open, but it held fast. He kicked the bottom to straighten it, but rammed his foot through instead. Undeterred he stepped back and forced his weight onto the door, 'opening' it for both Assassins and their prisoner.

With his hands and knees firmly on the splinter-and-dust-covered floor, Tsume lifted himself upright. The interior was spotless in the sense that it was free of graffiti. The walls featured handprints stained brown by dry blood; no footprints, though. On the corner of the wall were ridges spaced evenly. Tsume determined them to be claw marks. He never gave much stock to the supernatural except for that incident at Fuji, so someone must have wanted this place to look haunted.

"Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember," a voice not unlike Nariko echoed from somewhere in the house.

"Nothing is true," Tsume responded by instinct.

"Where other men are limited by morality or law," the voice repeated predictably.

"Everything is permitted," Kennosuke announced as he entered the premises.

"The dog does not follow what he can see, but what he cannot see," Nariko riddled.

Tsume never liked these riddles, because they complicated things that had no right to be complicated. What was this one supposed to mean? Perhaps something to do with-

"Tsume," Kennosuke interrupted the thought, "Your gift."

"Kennosuke, when I need your help, I will ask for your help," Tsume snarled as he switched on his gift.

The wall became white except for the bloody placed his hands on the stains which he noticed fit quite well. He pressed into the corner, causing the wall to give way … inward. He glanced back at Kennosuke, who nodded for him to proceed.

Around the wall moved until the Assassins and their captive stood in a dark room lit only by the moon's appearance through holes in the roof. Nariko waited there on for them with a rosary wrapped around her hand. Tsume wished he could have found that unusual, but something about Kennosuke and Nariko kept them in prayer whenever they had spare time. Family ties? Possibly.

This room was completely plain except for the two boards which extended from the walls. Ropes lay splayed and possibly tangled across the floor. Something about them menaced Tsume as his gift came off.

"Tsume, I want you to tie the ropes to the wall," Nariko instructed, "Kennosuke-chan, strip him of his clothes. You and I will tie him. But first, I want you to take these masks."

One Hour Later

Tsume pulled the rope taut, suspending the man by his wrists as his knees hovered barely above the ground. He would be naked were it not for the web of rope that wrapped his body and exposed large patches of pale skin on his torso. It already was a gruesome sight to behold, and Tsume expected it would only get much worse.

With a smooth motion, Tsume pulled the white theater mask from behind his head to gaze into it. It did not gaze back, but the hollow eyes gave something much worse. Another tingle ran up his arms. He didn't know why he'd even considered looking at the terrible thing. As harmless as this mask was to him, it was still horrid. He slid it over his face so he wouldn't see it. Hopefully it would be yet more unsettling to the Templar.

"Kennosuke, remove the cloth. We need him to talk now," Nariko commanded.

Kennosuke's hand gently grasped the rag in the man's mouth. One swift motion later, his jaws were unstuffed and spilled saliva to the floor. Only seconds passed before his head started to stir. He uttered a sick groan and pressed his eyes open and shut until he could see again.

He took in the torchlit room with the grimace of the world's hardest hangover. Disgust turned to fear when he spotted his masked captors. Fear turned to excitement when he noticed the ropes which bound him to the walls had also tied his flesh tight.

The Templar grinned at the Assassins with the same eyes Rangiku had before seducing Tsume, "I don't know what I did to deserve this. I would like to know, so this can happen more."

"What is Abe Masahiro planning?" Nariko hissed.

"I'm sorry," he added puzzlement to his arousal, "but I try to keep my business and personal lives separate."

She tapped Tsume's shoulder, "Push him, but be gentle."

"Don't listen to her," he seethed, "I like it rough."

Tsume placed a hand on the rope around the Templar's sternum. With very slight pressure, he saw the ropes press into his skin just as slightly.

The Templar shuddered in delight, "Look, I don't know who you are, but if you keep this going long enough, I'll tell you whatever you want." Tsume's gut knotted itself. Was this Templar so depraved that even interrogation was too tame? Was his loyalty so weak that a night of... ugh... pleasure... would be enough to make him talk? Was this process even still necessary? Was he really aroused by this? Tsume almost looked down to check, but spared his eyes the gross curiosity.

Nariko reached her hand to touch his neck with her fingertips. The Templar grinned with a malicious lust that sought to envelop Nariko in any way he could find. He nibbled her hand, causing her to shove him by his throat.

"He isn't lying," Nariko stated as though nothing had just happened. "Who is asking? Abe-sama has many enemies."

"It would not change the answer."

"Then you don't know Abe-sama."

Nariko snapped about and seized his mouth, "Then you will tell me everything."

She was very adept for a blind woman. Tsume knew it was her gift, but his own gift was probably not nearly so powerful. Or was it? He would need to find out somehow, but he wasn't willing to gouge out his eyes.

"I want to know who's paying you first," he slurred, "Tokugawa? Aakuraito {Arkwright}? Endo?"

"All of them. Now tell me what you know."

"Not until I know your employer."

Nariko stepped forward, "You do not get to know. You do not deserve to know. You will talk."

The Templar leaned his neck closer to Nariko's face, "Those eyes... There are none... I remember now..."

"What do you remember?" Nariko seethed.

"A story about a woman. A Kirishitan. Her husband was killed for his religion, but she only lost her eyes. She promised to practice Shinto instead. Said she would raise her son to be a priest. You?"

A knife emerged from her sleeve. She offered it to Kennosuke, "Cut him near the rope."

"So you really are that woman," the Templar continued, despite Kennosuke's advance, "Here I thought that was just a legend. So you work for Endo. What is he plan-"

Kennosuke cut alongside a rope on the man's belly. Blood seeped through, finding its way down to the earth. The Templar's face shuddered with what was either pain or ecstasy, but was likely a combination of the two.

Tsume cracked his own knuckles, "We will be asking the questions here."

Nariko's hand cautioned Tsume to stop. "Only on my orders," she commanded.

"So what does Endo want to know?"

"He wants to know everything. Aakuraito and Tokugawa are just as curious," she leaned closer to his face, "But if it's a night you want, I can give you several."

The Templar beamed to her mask.

November 11, 1855 in Edo, Japan

The hanging Templar's face cried dry tears, "No more pepper..." his pleas descended to desperate whispers. Tsume was unsure of how he could continue to breathe at this point.

"Cut him down," Nariko commanded of Tsume.

With a single slice from Tsume's sword to a knot on the wall, the Templar fell like a flag. Tsume crossed the room to chop the next knot, which dropped the man into to the pile of filth that he had made below. He did not make much of a sound since his body had been shriveled by what Tsume would have called a street diet. The prisoner huddled to the wooden boards below as if they gave him some comfort. This was not new behavior. Whenever Nariko felt him getting closer to the truth, the prisoner would be cut free. It was her way of controlling his pain. When she inevitably deemed his confessions dishonest or insufficient, he would be tied again, each time with less slack from which to hang. Tsume decided this to be a good time to stop mocking her eyes.

"Now tell me what Abe is planning," Nariko gingerly guided his jaw upward, "and we will not hurt you again."

"He wants to kill the Asashin and the Kirishitan."

Something did not sound right about that in Tsume's ears. He knew that some Christian ministers would be meeting with Abe soon to discuss religious tolerance. Abe often spoke against them, almost as loudly as Egawa would.

Kennosuke stepped in, "but how?"

"With a trap," the Templar wheezed, "Kill them … Asashin cannot stop ... shinobi ... ready."

"When? Where?"

"Yamanote," from the dried corners of the Templar's mouth, a smile cracked, "Today."

Tsume choked on his heart for a moment. Joseph and the others Assassins would be watching the meeting. If the whole meeting was a trap, then they would already be dead. Tsume tried to shrug the thought.

The Templar collapsed onto Nariko's lap, but she clasped him by the throat. His limbs did little but to wiggle from his shoulders instead of offer resistance. When Nariko released his last bits of life from her grip, he dropped limp to the floor again.

"Okāsan," Kennosuke approached his mother, "We should go."

"My girls will take care of this mess," she replied, "I'll send this to Aokigahara. You two go to Yamanote. Your brothers need you there."

"I'm not walking into a trap."

"When the wolves attack a feeding tiger, did they fall to the tiger's trap?"

Tsume bowed and made his way outside. Who was he to argue with the gift of knowledge?