September 22, 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy
I pushed the Animus visor away from me and sat up on the edge. My mind raced with a thousand questions, but they kept relating to what I just saw.
"Is something the matter, Mr Marshall?" Vidic asked, knowing damned well what was wrong.
"Hello to you too, but..." My face fell into my hands, "The fuck was that?"
"What do you mean?"
"He just fucking died."
"That he did."
"I mean, what was the point? There was no... No cackling villain. No nothing. He just died."
"It's war, Mr Marshall. People die."
"It wasn't even a Templar who did it."
"That was the law of the land, but it's telling that you're so affected by this. You're synchronizing well with your ancestor."
"Doc, does this keep happening?"
"Does what keep happening?"
"People dying over nothing. How many times am I going to see this?"
"It's difficult to tell with your ancestor," Vidic pinched a tuft of his beard, "Tsume was born off the record. What little we do know about him tells us that he knew something that we still don't."
I was more hoping he would tell me that Tsume became a professional puppy handler, "Thanks for that, I guess."
January 30, 1856 at the Lexington Inn just outside of Nagasaki, Japan
It was a western style building, not unlike Sensei's cabin or the buildings of Dejima. Strange music grew louder as the Assassins came closer. The smell of geisha perfume was almost louder than the music itself.
Sensei slid open the entrance. Inside, Japanese girls dressed in revealing Western clothes flitted about an enormous room, doing jobs normally expected in a post station and an oiran {courtesan} house. They did not walk with the stilted gait of normal oiran, possibly because the fronts of their dresses only hung to their knees, thus freeing their legs. Feathers sprung from the sides of their nest-like hair. Some of them carried drinks and food to the saloon's patrons who sat at very short tables like those in a restaurant. When they did, they bent over at the waist, exposing cleavage which was already greatly visible. Others danced before the doors which lined the side walls, raising their skirts even further to expose the connection of their legs. In the back was a stage, where a lone woman strummed her hands along the shelf of a wooden box. It must have been one of those pianos Joseph talked about.
However, one face stood out among this crowd. She had brown hair and lightly tan skin, not unlike captain Daniel, but a little closer to that of his more indoorsy brother. Her chin dented inward and her cheeks were fleshy, but not very round. A thin upper lip and thick lower lip made for a very unusual smile, but her jade eyes pierced everything around her.
She was the one to approach the Assassins first, "Konnichiwa, please choose a seat."
"No time, Baioreto-san {Violet}," Takechi said, "We need to see Bājinya-san {Virginia}."
Violet nodded and immediately made her way to the woman at the box. The music stopped as the women spoke to one another. Violet pointed to the Assassins and took over the other woman' seat at the piano.
It was then that Tsume saw the other woman's face. It belonged to the wrinkled and red-haired Virginia Stewart. Her skin had the same color that had been applied to it shortly before Tsume first met her. When she noticed the Assassins, she made a large grin and silently mouthed a hello as she approached her fellow Assassins.
"Charlton, Joseph, Takechi, and you," her red lips highlighted her white teeth, "What was your name again?"
Tsume silently shrunk away, resulting in being visually scanned by her. She grabbed his hands. That was when he noticed the red under his fingernails. He must have missed it when he changed his clothes and washed Kennosuke's blood from himself. His arms withdrew to hide the remnants of his friend from the world.
"What happened?" Virginia demanded of Sensei.
"We lost one today," Sensei bowed his head.
"The Christian?"
"Yes."
"The government has been hard on that lately," her gaze dropped to the floor.
"He put up a fight."
"They've been hard on that too," she regained eye contact, "Where is he now?"
"Aboard the Midnight Sun. Jack is waiting for Maruya's mother to make a decision on the funeral. I sent a pigeon to her."
"And Daniel?"
"The Eclipse is at sea, disposing of the soldiers who killed Maruya."
"Bless your heart," Virginia wrapped her arms around Tsume, "You must have been close to him, I understand how you're feeling right now, but you're strong. I have faith in you."
Tsume found her words hollow, but oddly comforting. They were the words of someone with nothing else to say. They held one another for what felt like minutes. Tsume fought the urge to cry. He had only truly cried once before, and he did not have anyone to help him over the death of his parents then.
"Charlton, did you get my letter?" Virginia did not let go of Tsume.
"Letter?" Sensei replied.
Virginia released the boy, "The letter about Tiago Lopes. I sent it last week."
"No," Sensei's voice was tinted with a new concern.
"Then you need to go to Osaka Castle as soon as you can."
"Not yet," Takechi interrupted, "We need to bury Kennosuke first. Then we can go to Osaka."
Sensei gave Takechi a defiant glare, "No, Nagasaki takes priority. I can have Kasai send someone to Osaka instead."
"Our soldiers take priority."
Sensei's hand brushed down his straw beard, "We need more..."
January 31, 1856 on Ikitsuki Island, Japan
Sensei led Tsume, Jack, and Garen through the village. It was a small bit of land, but it would be a disservice to say that it barely emerged from the sea. Sharp cliffs stabbed at the sky in the west, but left the east a level beach. The sun was setting across those cliffs and casting a massive shadow across the people who made this island their home. Tsume could probably see the first and last homes from the town square. He certainly saw them from the dock.
But before him was an unusual building with bricks laid up beyond its base and all the way to its steep triangular roof. A large inverted Y leaned against the wall and reached above the building. With empty windows at the angles of the Y and a large wooden door at its base, the building seemed to form a kind of face.
The Assassins came upon the steps to the doorway. Whispers emanated from within. Garen pulled the door outward from its center. The mechanism seemed familiar. It was much like the entrance to Sensei's cabin, but larger and connected to what must have been another door.
Tsume saw what must have been hundreds of terrified eyes fall upon him. People sat in cramped rows along the sides of the room, leaving a clear and narrow path to a single ancient man. Some of them grasped the rosaries concealed beneath their kimono. The hands of others disappeared into the safety of their robes, certainly hiding more than hands. One began to frantically roll up a scroll that he had open before him. Two or three of them started sobbing, but Tsume didn't see it.
The old man, who appeared to be naught but a skeleton wrapped loosely by skin, stood and bowed, "Ākuraito-san."
"Thursday seems an odd day for church," Sensei bowed in return, "Where I'm from, we normally do it on Sunday."
"Every day is a good day for prayer, Ākuraito-san."
"For everything, Endo, there is a season."
"Tsuzuke kudasai {Please continue}," Endo commanded the people.
Their heads almost turned away from the Assassins. Tsume spied many of them constantly in the process of diverting their gazes away from him and him alone. Being the only native among a group of foreigners was either helping or hurting their opinions of him. If his swords indicated anything, they were not helping.
"I have a request of you," Sensei said.
"Outside."
Sensei guided them out with a silent swiping gesture. Naturally, his students all followed. As he stepped back to the sunset, Tsume cast another look to the Kirishitan, who pretended not to cast their looks back. One young girl, certainly no older than thirteen, chose not to sit with the congregation, and joined her priest.
"Kahori-chan, stay inside. I need to speak with these men alone."
"Hai, jī-chan {grandpa}," the girl bowed and disappeared.
"When did you become a grandfather?" Sensei asked.
"Had you asked, I may have told you."
"About that request-"
Endo raised a hand to pause Sensei, "Are you trying to take some Kirishitan from this place again?"
"No. I'm here to bury one."
"Oh," through his saddened wrinkles, Endo became visibly distraught, "What was his name?"
"Maruya Kennosuke."
"The loss of any man is a tragedy."
"I know tragedy all too well."
"Bring him. We will give him a proper funeral."
February 1, 1856 on Ikitsuki Island, Japan
Waves splashed onto the rocks below Tsume. Were he to somehow get caught in them, he would certainly be crushed, not that the fall wouldn't kill him from this height, he looked behind himself, to the docks down on the western beach. He could see over the Midnight Sun's main sail from this height, despite her being two miles away. Meanwhile, he felt the warmth of the morning sun on his back and saw how its golden rays gilded the puff of his breath.
He had not slept all night, unlike the night before. Perhaps he expected Kennosuke to sit up from his pyre and yell, 'Hah!' But he was never the type of person to do that to anyone. Not that humorless Kennosuke. No, he would have gotten up and said, 'On second thought, I'll be okay.' That would have been better,
Tsume had waited long enough for this cruel joke to end, but it was apparently not a joke. Maybe he should have shoved a blade into Kennosuke's throat before he died, then they could have one last chat. No, Tsume was above such thoughts. That was was his best friend, even if it took four years for them both to realize it.
"Asashin-sama?" a young girl's voice begged for attention.
The Assassin looked up to see a girl whose face looked like it was shrinking into her head. Maybe that was exaggeration, but her features were very tiny compared to her rather large round cranium. Maybe they just made her head look larger than it was. She looked about 10 if Tsume had to guess. Her hands were clasped together, and the toes of one foot dug a little bit into the ground through her tabi.
"May I sit with you?" she bowed.
Tsume patted the ground next to himself.
"Could you tell me about Maruya-sama?" she sat next to Tsume, but on her knees instead of hanging her feet from the ledge.
"He was a good man, the bravest man I've ever seen."
"Was he smart?"
"Smart enough, but I think that... I think that he was going to change the world."
"The world's not ready."
"I know. Wait what?"
"If he was going to change the world, then he should be alive. Someone doesn't want that. World is not ready."
"You're smart for a kid," Tsume smiled at the girl.
"Domo arigato, sama. Why did he become an Asashin?"
"Because he was tired of oppression. He believed in the freedom of belief, and he wanted everyone to have it, even if they disagreed with him."
"What is an Asashin?"
Tsume extended his hidden blade for display, "We're fighters, a bit like samurai."
"But..." she rested her head against Tsume's arm.
"But we fight oppressors, like Tokugawa."
"So, you're the opposite of samurai."
"Hah!" Tsume laughed, "I'm not as poetic as a samurai should be. Kennosuke was actually a samurai before he became an Asashin."
"You mean Maruya-sama?"
"Hai, Maruya Kennosuke."
They sat on the ledge for a while, taking in the sun's warmth with their backs and feeling the cold with their fronts. Tsume noticed the gold tint of his breath was becoming white again. He looked down at the girl, "What's your name?"
"Koyumi."
"No family name?"
"None."
"Eta {Outcast}?"
"Hai." She didn't look like an eta. The robes she wore were mostly clean, except for a few patches of dirt on the lower half. Her hands were calloused from some kind of field work. Tsume felt a little better, knowing that other eta had managed to find a way out of public ostracism.
"Who adopted you?" Tsume's gaze moved out to the ocean.
"Endo-tono. What is your name, sama?"
"Tsume."
"Is that your family name?"
"No, I don't really have one, but I like to be called Washio."
"Ah, so how did Maruya-sama die?"
"I think there are better ways to ask that."
"Okay. What happened?"
Tsume paused himself to think. Across his mind flashed the empty eyes of Kennosuke, as did his blood. He remembered being rescued at Fuji, and studying together under Nariko. They had worked together on Sensei's cabin as well. All that time, they could have become friends, but Tsume insisted on belittling and antagonizing him. If he could do it again, he would. Maybe then this could be avoided, but maybe it could have been worse.
A pair of tears wetted the Assassin's eyes.
"Tsume-sama?"
His fingers dug into the dirt, "Yes?"
"How did he die?"
Tsume's back chilled, "Tokugawa."
Koyumi reached into her kimono, causing something to rattle. From it, she extracted a rosary, identical to the one Kennosuke had, but this one was unbroken, "Kirishitan need to be careful."
"You're not very careful here."
"No, we have a Bukkyōto {Buddhist} temple, a Shinto shrine, and a Kirishitan church. Endo does his best to keep everyone happy."
"He sounds like a wise man. Kennosuke would have loved to meet him."
"Washio!" Jack called from the foot of the hill.
"What is it?" Tsume answered.
"Come down here, the funeral is starting!"
"No thanks, I like it here more!" Tsume lied. He didn't want to face Kennosuke again. He didn't want to apologize for not saving him; not if it fell on deaf ears. Most importantly, he did not want the grim reminder of Kennosuke's -and by extension, his own- mortality.
"Arkwright says for you to get down here, because you're needed!"
"Washio-sama," Kayomi tugged at his sleeve, "You should go."
Tsume closed his eyes and laid back onto the grass, feet still dangling over the sea. He glanced over to Kayomi with one eye, "No, I like it he-yeee! Hello Jack."
The massive brown man cast an even larger shadow. From the angle he leaned over Tsume, his body had swallowed the sun. When that darkness reached down for Tsume's arm, he resisted, rolling over and picking himself up.
"Let's go," Jack commanded.
Tsume complied, traversing down the hill to the beach where the mourners waited. Kennosuke also waited. Hundreds of people gathered around the pyre in a semicircle, giving space only for the weeping ocean. Some of them prayed, and others merely stood in awe of the body. It would feel more appropriate if Tsume found more familiar faces among them.
Kennosuke lay upon a row of small logs, all of them split into halves to make a level bed. His bare feet protruded from the straw mat which blanketed him. He didn't look deceased any longer; he looked asleep. His lack of breathing indicated otherwise.
Endo waited at the forefront of this congregation near Garen and Sensei, a group with which Jack reunited.
"Aakuraito-sama," Endo extended a cloth to Arkwright, "It is customary that a family member cut from this cloth, but none from Maruya-sama's family are here, so we chose his Sensei."
Arkwright then drew his knife and grasped a corner of the fabric. He touched his blade to it and cut with a sawing motion. When the shred came free, Endo instructed, "Now place it in his hands.
"There is a time for everything," he now preached to the crowd, "A time for birth and a time for death. A time to kill and a time to heal. A time to destroy and a time to build. A time to weep and a time to laugh," he cast a quick glance at Tsume with that last one, "What does the worker gain from from his effort? We all see the burden our Lord has placed on us. He has made everything to be beautiful in some way. He also gives us opportunity for eternity, but we could not hope to understand what it all means from the beginning to the end."
Sensei lifted the sheet and unveiled Kennosuke in the process. Tsume could see that he looked peaceful, but certainly not asleep. The cloth was laid gently on his bare chest before he was covered again.
"The Kirishitan wish to thank all of you for coming today, especially those of you who do not share our beliefs. Your solidarity has kept this island safe for decades. We are told that it was this man's dream to visit us here. We did not know Maruya Kennosuke before, but now that we know of him, we can never forget him.
"I would ask my fellows to bow for prayer. Those who wish to join us are welcome."
Tsume witnessed nearly every person present, including one dressed as a Buddhist monk, sit down with their knees to the beach. He got down to accompany them.
"Our Omo {Lord}," Endo prayed, "We come to you today not in mourning, but in thanks. You have received your child yesterday. We are most blessed that he protected us that we may spread your word in good faith. We do not pray that you accept him into your realm, for we do not doubt his place there. We only ask that you accept him as a kami {god} that he may continue to guard us as we spread the knowledge of your virtue throughout the world. Aamen."
Everyone rose from the ground, with sand staining their knees. The heft of the cold mourning air was palpable. Dreary sunlight continued to shine its bright white onto everything, highlighting the dull green of the grass and brown of the sand on the knees of their white kimono.
Endo removed a pair of flint stones from his kimono and passed them to Sensei, "Would you please light the pyre?"
"Of course, Endo-sama," Sensei received the stones. He stood over Kennosuke with one pinched flat and another hovering over his wrist. He struck sparks from them to the straw that covered his student.
It didn't take many sparks before the tips of kindling took on a red glow. The embers consumed the straw until they were flames. They danced over him, quickly revealing the body that was meant to stay concealed.
"For it is dust we are, and dust we shall become again," Endo spoke aloud, "We conclude our services here. Thank you all for coming. Thank you all for staying. Regular use of this land will presume tomorrow."
Person by person, the mourners drifted back into their daily grind. They did not matter, because Kennosuke did not matter to them. Even the Buddhist monks and the Shinto priest returned to their own religious obligations. The fire gnawed their stranger's flesh away, revealing the muscles and bones his skin covered so well.
Tsume felt his gut wrench at the sight he was seeing. One of his two friends lay on the pyre, being swallowed by flames. He wanted to look away and wake up from this, but he couldn't. He had already tried to sleep the night before, to no effect. Jack promised him that he restlessness wouldn't last. He knew that. He remembered so clearly watching the life vanish from Kennosuke's eyes. It was something he had seen before, being an Assassin, but that never truly affected him when it was no one he knew. Only his parents' death had affected him so badly. That may have been worse, since he now had a pillar of support, but it certainly wasn't better. Eventually, he would sleep again.
When he looked back into the crowd, none but Endo and Tsume remained. Except for one other: a young samurai with unkempt hair. His hands were not near his sword, so Tsume did not feel threatened. He glanced over to Endo, who smiled.
"Asashin-sama," the samurai's voice was clear and strong, "I want to speak with you. Would you come to my home for food?"
Tsume looked into the samurai's eyes and then into the sand. He didn't want to see Kennosuke any more. Not like this. Not when a pillar of smoke rose from his body or the smell of his burning was reminiscent of cooked meat, which he did not want to smell for a long time. Nor did he want anyone to see the vulnerability in his eyes.
"I would appreciate for you to consider it," the samurai said.
"Certainly," Tsume nodded, "Where do you live?"
"It isn't far from here," the samurai pointed in the general vicinity of the Midnight Sun, "In fact, it's near the farmhouse."
"Actually, my Sensei is holding a dinner at the inn near the dock," Tsume looked up into the samurai's eyes, "I'm sure you would be welcome."
"I appreciate the offer, but gaijin make me uncomfortable."
"I understand that," Tsume forced a laugh, "We'll talk more later. When should I be there?"
"Noon. I will have something made around then."
"Mata ne {see you later}," Tsume bowed.
The samurai bowed in return and left for his home. Endo placed a wrinkled and fragile hand on Tsume's arm, "That man is Okada Izo."
"He a Kirishitan, too?"
"Hai, he is also a talented swordsman."
"Nippon does not have many talented swordsmen."
"Unskilled swords are still dangerous to the rest of us. We need more men like him."
"I used to think that the Kirishitan weren't the violent type."
"What choice do we have?"
Tsume arched a brow and glanced aside into Endo's perpetually sad eyes, "Hide. That's the only choice."
"That is why we have Ikitsuki."
Around Noon
Tsume sat on his knees before the table. Okada had provided a yellow donburi that smelled comforting. Not like meat, of course. More like the steamy scents of eggs and rice. The bowl itself looked to be made of clay instead of the porcelain to which the Assassin had grown accustomed.
"I apologize that my home isn't clean," Okada stated before he picked up his chopsticks.
He may not have been entirely right about that. There was nothing to get dirty. He owned a small kagizuru {fireplace} and a mat for sleeping, apart from the obvious table. The walls were lined with shelves that were almost completely barren. Surely a samurai could afford better. Still, it was nicer than eta.
"You have no reason to apologize," Tsume answered Okada's concern.
"Domo arigato, I wanted to talk to you about the Asashin."
Tsume plucked a piece of meat from the bowl. It looked to be chicken covered in goo. "I am definitely not the right person to talk to. You really should talk to my Sensei."
"Yes, but your Sensei is a-"
"Gaikoku-hito. I know," Tsume took a bite. The chicken was juicy and perhaps a bit raw, but the slime was definitely egg.
"You mean gaijin."
"I like gaikoku-hito more. It's more respectful."
"Yes, I suppose I understand that. I just never could get myself to accept them."
"That's fine. It took me a few years."
"But I need to know exactly who you are and what you fight for. You were the only Nippon-jin Asashin aside from Maruya-sama. How can I trust them?" Okada bit into his chicken.
"Kennosuke and I are hardly the only Nippon-jin Asashin. Have you ever heard of the lady ronin?"
"I have not."
"Kasai Asuka is her name. She is an Asashin up in Edo. Have you heard of Hayashi Nariko?"
"Geisha. Sometimes Endo gets letters from her."
"I was not expecting to hear that," Tsume took his second bite.
"We keep in touch."
"She is also Kennosuke's mother."
"That's astounding."
"How do you think we knew about Ikitsuki?"
"Hayashi-sama. It's actually pretty obvious now. So, are all Asashin women or Kirishitan or... Gaikoku-hito?"
"Of course not. I'm not Kirishitan, and last I checked I was neither gaikoku-hito nor female."
"I thought you were."
"Eta is the correct answer."
"Under normal law, I should not even have you here."
"But you don't care for normal law, or you wouldn't worship an illegal god."
"You have me there. So, the Asashin pulled you out of the eta."
"It's amazing, isn't it? You can't even tell by looking at us if we've been cast out of society or not. Kennosuke and I shared that."
"I wouldn't say that we're outcasts."
"Killed on the spot isn't any better."
"Don't forget the crucifixions."
"How could I forget them?" Tsume sighed to look for a more pleasant topic, "Have you ever killed a man?"
Okada flinched, "Erm, only two."
"Go on."
"Well, the first was in Tosa about a year ago. The second was here a few months ago."
"Here on Ikitsuki," Tsume's chopsticks pointed incredulously to the table.
"Hai."
Suddenly, Kennosuke's concept of the idyllic Christian paradise was challenged. Tsume swallowed the rice and said, "Let's start with Ikitsuki."
"Well normally, we had a samurai who would occasionally inspect the island to make sure there were no Kirishitan."
"Hence the church."
"Yes, well for a few centuries, we kept a good family of samurai who inspected us. They were not Kirishitan themselves, but they were open-minded enough to not try to kill us. Well, a few years ago, he died and his son had mon in his eyes."
"So, you killed him."
"I'm not finished. He was demanding bribes from the people of the town. Said if we didn't each pay him however much, he would report us to the bakufu {government}. That included the Bukkyoto {Buddhists} and the Shinto."
"How much was it?"
"It wasn't that much, honestly. Most of us could afford it."
"But not everyone could."
"No, not everyone. The community supported them, especially Endo, but his shipping business didn't cover everyone. Most of his personal income went to his orphanage. So, much of the remaining weight fell onto our blacksmith, who was more than happy to take care of everyone, but his prices went up."
"Why not get a new samurai?"
"Too much attention. We like it quiet here. Anyhow, iron prices went up and our income didn't go up with it. Any metalwork that needed to be done became more expensive, and some people found it cheaper to try to import from Nagasaki. However, too many shopkeepers started looking to open up on Ikitsuki and we don't like that kind of thing, so we had to reject their offers to build here. Unfortunately, this came around the same time as Mashuperi, and prices have exploded in Nagasaki since. The samurai effectively broke our economy."
"What did you do?"
"He arrested one of Endo's orphans."
"You didn't answer my question."
"I challenged him to a duel. He wasn't expecting an odachi {great sword}."
"And that is how you won your first duel."
"I've been practicing with it. It's a fantastic weapon. Once you understand the flow, the odachi can become the deadliest sword… Provided you have space."
"You've never used a jū {gun}."
"That I have not."
"So what about the other one?" Tsume asked before digging into the yolky rice.
"The other what?"
"Man you killed."
"Oh that. That one is ..." Okada scratched the back of his head, "Well, it was kind of a funny story."
Tsume nodded a sign for the young samurai to begin this funny story.
"Well, it was in Tosa. Have you been there?"
"No, but I know someone from there."
"Okay, well, I was in Tosa and I was practicing my sword swings when this man, he was a prisoner, came around the corner. See, I like to practice next to a building where I can get some shade. And the day before, we had captured a guy for stealing and put him in our jail. Well, he escaped because we were going to flay him, but he didn't see me around the corner and ran into my sword while I was practicing."
That story did not amuse Tsume, at least not in how it was told. The scars on his back ached from the whippings that formed them only a few short years ago. Samurai brutality didn't quite appeal to him either.
"Is something wrong?" Okada asked with a tinge of concern in his vile voice.
"I need to leave," Tsume stood, "Sensei wants me in Osaka soon."
"What about the Asashin?"
"You'll have to ask him later."