22 September 2012 at the Abstergo facility in Rome, Italy

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" I pulled myself from the Animus again, stumbling onto the floor. Standing was hard on account of the icicle that had just kicked me in the gut.

"Very interesting, Mr Marshall," Vidic hovered over me.

My heart pounded like a rubber mallet bouncing in my chest. One finger accused the animus, "I just fucking died in there."

"No, your ancestor hasn't died yet. Well, he's dead now, but that wasn't how he died. No, your last memories with him will be the conception of your next ancestor."

"Getting laid is nice and all, but I need to get to a doctor who isn't you," I clenched my gut.

"Get what treated?"

"I just got stabbed. You were there."

The good doctor lowered himself to me and put a finger on my stomach, "No, Mr Marshall, you're fine. You are simply experiencing your ancestor's trauma as if it were your own. It's a common enough side effect."

I let go of the wound- or what I thought was a wound. My abs looked fine, if a little flat and nonexistent, but the pain was going nowhere fast. It didn't help that Vidic sure as shit wasn't going to help me.

15 February 1856, at the Lexington Inn, Nagasaki, Japan

Violet sat next to Tsume's rest bed, scratching something onto her papers. Jade eyes scoured over them silently, begging for the code to reveal its secrets. Her wide pink lips bit onto the tip of a pen in the same way some scholars bit their brushes when they wanted to concentrate. Frustration twisted her long face, wrinkling the forehead, but never bending the straightness of her nose. Occasionally, she would need to sweep her distracting sandy curls from her eyes . She was not a beautiful woman, Miss Silva.

"It's hard to heal when you're sitting over me like that," Tsume broke the silence.

"You caught me," she didn't even look away from her work.

"Caught you in what?"

"I don't want you to heal. I don't want you to die either. I figured that I could just stay right here and you would magically keep bleeding just enough to stay in bed."

"Because you have so much to gain from me in bed?"

"No, but this is the only room where no one is going to be having sex. Usually makes it easier to think when no one is pretending to enjoy themselves."

"I promise not to pretend. This is exactly as fun as it looks," his head fell back into the pillow, "Constant celebration."

"Lovely," Violet set her book on the table beside the bed, "By the way, I have been wondering about something."

"Wondering about what?"

"Are you angry at Joseph Kent?"

"No..." Tsume raised an apprehensive eyebrow.

"Ishikawa Azusa?"

"What about her?"

"Are you angry at her?" her questions were making less and less sense.

"Why?"

"I need to know," her eyes locked on his.

"I must have hit my head too hard, because don't remember why you're asking... any of this."

"It wasn't your head. Aim lower."

Tsume's hand covered his groin.

"Your stomach. You stabbed your stomach. It's a wonder you're alive."

"Arigato. I had not noticed," Tsume lied. He honestly believed that he had fallen from a tree as Joseph had told it. Granted, that never explained how he got the wound on his front without any bruises.

"Yes, but no regular miracle, like a sunrise or the birth of a child. This was closer to an unlikely event... well... fifty percent chance, so it wasn't that unlikely."

Tsume stared at her, trying to process the thoughts leaving her mouth.

"As I understand," she continued, "You are fortunate to be alive, but I did want to talk about miracles. Do you know anything about possession?"

"It means I own something that you don't."

"Not quite what I meant," Violet's face strained.

"Then what did you mean?"

"I didn't want to use this word, but... demonic possession."

Tsume recalled the talks with Kennosuke and Joseph of the Christian religion, "I've heard of it."

"You started shouting something in the forest about impure blood, then you stabbed yourself. That is everything I know. I need you to tell me what happened."

"I didn't even know that much," Tsume tried to sweep the dust off those memories. He did recall a sharp pain in his gut and experiencing incredibly vague dreams until he woke a few hours ago. Nothing came up about impurity or the like. "I do remember something evil in the forest," the thought pulsed a chill in his spine.

Violet began scribbling something on her paper, "How do you know it was evil?"

"It was hate. That was all. It felt like hate. I think it said something to me about getting out of the forest."

"They said that you said that they never should have come."

The image became clearer, "I used a sense of mine to find something in the trees. I don't know how much of this I'm allowed to tell you."

"You just mentioned your sense and I already know what it is."

Tsume felt some relief from her clarification, "I don't know anything else. I felt something evil, and then I woke up here maybe a few hours ago."

"Have you ever felt it before?"

"Once, in Mt Fuji," Tsume recalled the artificial bamboo forest and the perfectly smooth stone he had seen inside the mountain.

Violet's eyes became more attentive, "I have heard of this. Care to tell me more?"

"Yes. We found a ... something there."

"Ms Ishikawa mentioned that you were the one who found the entrance. The way she described it, it was similar to how you found the box in Osaka castle."

"How much of this do you already know?" he asked.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. How much do you already know?" she bit her pen, "It seems like every answer gives me a dozen more questions."

"Excuse me, but what exactly are you looking for?"

"Treasure."

"Treasure... Oh, Lopes."

"Yes, I have a feeling that your ability is somehow tied to all of this. I just wish we had more people to ask about it."

"There may be one more."

"Who?"

"But you need to make a promise first."

"What is it?"

"You need to promise to bring him to Nagasaki."

"Your brother has it?"

Tsume was surprised by the sheer extent of Violet's knowledge, "I don't like being separated from him."

"Mrs Kasai said he needs to stay in Edo, but I have an idea," she grinned, "I can maybe talk her into letting him visit Nagasaki or ..."

Tsume leaned up to show interest, but the jabbing stomach pain pulled him back down.

Violet continued, "I could bring you news about your brother."

"I could just send him a letter."

"In exchange, I get to ask you any question and you must answer with the utmost honesty."

"That is not much of an exchange."

"Then what do you have to lose?"

3 July 1856, in Nagasaki, Japan

"I want to thank you," Endo said.

"It was my pleasure," Tsume smiled, "What did I do?"

"Everything, child. You have done such a great service to us when we have nothing to give you."

The old priest was always careful with his words when he was within Nagasaki's city limits. After everything Tsume had seen the Christians put through, he could not blame Endo a bit for caution. While a military uprising would be better, the Christian rebellions of centuries past had never ended in their favor. Endo would need a very special kind of delusion to attempt an uprising. The best they could do is survive while the Assassins protect them.

"I'm certain you have plenty to give. It's just nothing I don't already have."

"How many families on the island want their daughter to marry a strong handsome man such as yourself?"

"I don't know. Marriage is a bit risky right now. Asashin are not known for their longevity... or their parenting skills," thoughts of Sensei and Garen came to mind.

"But you are known for your courage."

"I like to think of myself as pragmatic."

"A pragmatic man would not have tried to protect us as you did in Edo."

"You're giving me too much credit."

"On the day you decide that protecting us is too dangerous, you will flee our island and forsake your vows... On that day, I shall believe that you are pragmatic. Until then, I find your kind to be quite honorable."

"Yet you won't let your kind join us."

"I have my reasons," Endo gazed up to a trio of pigeons sitting on a low eave, "Look at the birds."

Their bodies were a dusty brown flanked with dull blue wings. Such features failed to distinguish the birds from other

"I can't say I've ever cared for the flying rats. I could say that, but I don't want to lie to you."

"I find them to be quite beautiful."

"I'm sure you do."

"I'm also quite fond of tanchōzuru {cranes}."

"I'm sure you are."

"Do you know why?" Endo turned to Tsume.

"I don't."

"They are known for their loyalty and their longevity."

"So, they remind you of you. Endō, don't get arrogant on me."

"No, no. I raised one for around fifty years. Beautiful bird she was."

"Not the usual thousand years," Tsume raised an eyebrow, amused by his own sense of humor.

"I'm not that old, mind you, but she was fully grown when we met. I was a child of about ten years."

"So you were sixty when... What happened?"

"When her body died."

"I hate to ask, but could you repeat that?"

"She is no longer of this Earth, but I hold dear everything she taught me about patience and loyalty."

"Do you think she was a thousand years old?"

"Possibly. It it my hope that I can keep her lessons alive for another ... let us say nine hundred and eighty five years."

Tsume calculated those numbers, "So you're seventy five."

"I'm young for my age."

The buildings on the street ended where the hills of the Urakami valley became evident. Its grass was as green as jade under the summer sun. Tsume could even see the fish under the surface of the Urakami river. It was a stark contrast to the Edo river's eternal cloudiness.

Along the bank sat three men deep in conversation. One man, wearing a very distinct blue American jacket spoke with moving hands and cast stones into the river. The other two had the kimono of samurai

"I have a suspicion that those are the men we have come to see," Endo pointed to the trio.

Tsume was unwilling to approach strangers while guarding a man as important as Endō. The possibility always existed that they could be dangerous, and this was not the time to take risks. He pulled his senses together. The samurai each gave off the kind of energy that identified them as his targets, so the old man was right. However, the man in the American jacket exuded a familiar energy that filled Tsume with a kind of confidence.

His sense broke apart as he led Endō closer to the men. One of the samurai peeked over his shoulder, revealing a familiar pointed beard. He tapped on the American's shoulder and pointed to the duo. Joseph was the American. Tsume was embarrassed that he had not noticed the short black hair which he knew to belong to only one man.

Joseph was a welcome sight indeed.

"You remember Tsume, right?" Joseph asked his bearded friend as he gestured toward the junior Assassin.

Tsume barely recognized the bearded samurai.

"I do remember him," the samurai nodded to Tsume, "But I do not recognize his name."

"And Tsume, you remember Shōzan, I presume," Joseph now motioned to his friend.

Tsume bowed, "I apologize, but I do not."

"We met him on the docks when we watched the daimyo sailing into Edo. Remember?"

"Yeah, I remember," Tsume lied, "I'm actually surprised to see the both of you here. Endō and I came to see someone else."

"That would most likely be myself," the other samurai stood and bowed, "Shōin is my name."

This man did not have the cordial eyes of his colleague. His eyes locked directly to Tsume's. He was obviously seeking something, but it was difficult to tell exactly what.

The Assassin bowed in return, "Washio Tsume. What's your chosen name?"

"Shōin is my chosen name."

Tsume's brows perked. Never before had a samurai introduced himself without grandstanding his family name.

"Then what is your family name, Shōin-san?"

"Yoshida, but I prefer Shōin. My sensei and I are visiting Nagasaki to learn the Dutch studies at Dejima, but I want to learn about the Kirishitan first."

"Oh, I'm no Kirishitan, but Endō-sama and Joseph-san are."

"Joseph?" Shōzan asked.

"That's me. Joseph is my middle name, and Tsume-san likes to call me that instead of Clayton ... Maxwell," Joseph adeptly covered himself.

"Are you the man we came to see?" Shōin bowed again.

"I am," the old man bowed to the two samurai, "What interest have you in the foreign religion?"

"Your faith is one that has been blessed by the native spirit of Nippon without the tainted touch of the Kirishitan gaijin."

"Stop. Stop. Stop," Tsume interrupted, "What kind of blessing gets a man killed in the port?" his voice was raising, "What kind of blessing makes people hide in fear?"

Shōin maintained a calm demeanor despite the outcast's rage, "The persecution is a tragedy, no doubt, and I have much to learn. As Maxwell-san has described his faith and church, they are very different from what little I have seen here. Nagasaki seems the ideal place for me to study."

"Teaching you would be an honor, Shōin-san. Tomorrow, we should meet at Katsumi's tea shop and discuss everything there."

"Exercise caution with your words around him," Shōzan added, stroking his beard, "Too often I try to teach him something about science or philosophy and I suddenly cannot find the time to eat between his questions."

Tsume crossed his arms, "You eat anyway and make him wait, obviously."

"You do not know much about Zen."

"I am curious about this one," Yoshida added, approaching Tsume, "He does not sound like he comes from Nagasaki."

Tsume straightened up, fixing his eyes to Yoshida's, "Edo. Rough neighborhood."

"Very," Yoshida's eyes studied Tsume up and down, "You are not a Kirishitan, yet you traveled from Edo to be the bodyguard of an old priest."

"Hai."

Yoshida visibly contemplated for a moment, "Endo-sama must truly be someone special. You, however, I still know nothing about. I would like to study you in more depth."

"I think you might want to ask Endo-sama first."

"Of course," Yoshida turned to Endo, "Would you please be so gracious as to teach me about the ways of your faith?"

The old man smiled, "It would be my honor."

8 July 1856, on Ikitsuki Island, Japan

A bell chimed Tsume awake. He snapped up, ready for his dawn exercises. No light came from the glorified slit that was Tsume's window. The entire room was as black as a Templar's heart. Raindrops were thumping loudly against the roof, so that was unsurprising. What Tsume found surprising was the lack of Sensei yelling at him to start running a few miles. That could only mean an intruder had slipped in.

He paused in silence. According to Takechi, noise was a stroke of paint in the dark. His heart thudded in his chest, hopefully only enough to wake hi and not enough to alert any intruders. Tsume pulled together his senses and most certainly felt a hostile energy in the room.

It was hazy, as he expected everything to be immediately after waking, but it was most certainly dangerous. The presence seemed to stand perfectly still, possibly grasping for a weapon.

Tsume reached for the ground by his bed, where he kept his weapons. He felt the curve of the hook blade he'd acquired a few months prior and still had yet to use in combat. It did not seem loud enough for the job Tsume needed. His hand continued to search the weapons for the smooth iron barrel or the lacquered wood handle of his revolver. Meanwhile this invader clearly heard the sounds of these items shuffling.

He felt the cool metal and smiled. Soon, the gunshot would kill this intruder and alert everyone to the certainly more numerous intruders. Unless they were all dead. He snatched the gun's barrel, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger.

It clicked to rotate the drum toward a live bullet. He pulled the trigger again, but did not bang. Tsume's heart stopped time in the room. He must have forgotten to load the thing when he went to bed. Garen had been drilling the importance of keeping five loaded rounds at all times. Tsume, pulled again in hopes that he may have missed a bullet, but was only rewarded with more clicking.

With the intruder almost upon him, Tsume leapt to his feet and crashed the pistol's butt down on the man's head. Ineffectual screaming did not stop Tsume from striking him again. Warm blood spattered onto his hand, and the intruder fell.

Tsume was most certainly awake now. He grabbed a match by his bed and sparked it against the wall. The dead man wore the distinctive black robes of the Shinobi. The Templars were not meant to know of Ikitsuki; not after what they did to the Kirishitan in Edo.

"Why didn't you shoot him?" Garen appeared in the open doorway, his face illuminated by the light of his fish oil lamp.

"Because this had to happen the one night I forgot to load my gun," Tsume answered, "I didn't hear your gun go off."

"Because I used my sword. We can't all see in the dark, you know," Garen raised a bloody saber to the firelight, "You'll want to get loaded quick. Unless everyone is taking the quiet approach, we got trouble."

Tsume nodded.

"I'm going to check on everyone else, then we check the town."

Tsume poured his gunpowder into five of the six chambers, just in case he accidentally-

Bang!

If killing a man had not startled him enough, that gunshot certainly did. Garen lowered his pistol from the sky and blew the smoke from the barrel, like a candle he needed to put out. This was his way of attracting attention, however unnecessary it may have been.

"Garen, I tell you every time," Joseph stepped out of his room, "I don't appreciate waking like that. You can get me up without scaring the Jesus out of me," he stopped, "It's still really dark."

"Yes it is, Joey."

"That means we're under attack."

"Yes it does."

Joseph sighed, "Urgent?"

"Probably."

He walked back toward his room, "I'll get my gun."

"Too wet," Garen said a bit louder.

"Just get your axe," Tsume added.

Joseph yelled from inside his room, "Yep."

"What happened?" Takechi arrived on the scene.

"Somehow, a dead man found his way into my room," Tsume answered, "Garen's too."

"I was hoping to be the only one. The whole village is in danger. Josefu!"

"You called?" Joseph emerged from his room partially dressed with a lamp in his right hand and tomahawk in his left.

"You ring the gong in the church. Garen, get your rifle and take to the rooftops. Find a boat that looks suspicious. If anyone goes to the docks, shoot them."

"Don't overestimate my gun. I can't see a damn thing beyond my lantern and, unless this rain clears soon, I can't keep her out in the open for too long."

"Then you will search the beach. Where is Izō?"

"I'm more worried about Papá," Garen said, "He's still in Nagasaki."

"That man's stubbornness will keep him alive forever," Takechi got nearer to Garen, puffing his chest and snarling with the fire of Yomi in his eyes, "But if you ever draw attention to us like that again, I will have you fight them unarmed."

Garen snickered, "Sorry I already got the warning out. They know we saw them and they know what we can do. Right now, they're more scared of us than we are of them, 'cept for maybe yourself," he pulled his gun's hammer, "I like them scared. Besides, you just told Joseph to ring the damn gong."

As ineffective as Takechi's threats always were, Tsume found himself suddenly glad that his own gun had not been loaded earlier.

"Comb. The. Beach," Takechi pointed to the shore.

Garen never wiped off his smirk, but still nodded and followed his instructions.

"Tsume, where is Izō?"

"I haven't seen him."

"You go to his house. I will check on Endō."

"Hai, Takechi-sensei," Tsume bowed and left the building for Izō's home.

He joined his senses again. While he had memorized the path to Izō's home, he still could not be careful enough with death around every corner of an Assassin's life. Tsume found a comfort knowing that, even when his eyes were useless, he could always see.

As he walked the dirt road, the rain's chill brushed on his arms and face, but only lightly. Tsume figured it would have been worse without his gift. Izō's home was just ahead.

His door burst open, a shadowy figure running out and onto the road. Tsume prepared his gun, and the figure fell to the ground. In retrospect, to say that the figure had fallen was an inaccurate retelling of what happened. It was more correctly thrown.

Part of Tsume's mind immediately said that Izō had just killed a Shinobi, but the other half was not so easily satisfied. In fact, it worried. Izō could have been the one dead in the road. His heart pounded as the thought grew in his head.

He readied his hidden blade anyway. As badly as he did not want to disgrace Kennosuke's memory by losing another Kirishitan, he also had no desire to get caught in a Templar trap. If this were Izō, then the Shinobi knew where to find the Assassins. That would mean that the combined presence of Kirishitan and Assassins had drawn too much attention. Then the blame would fall squarely on the Assassins and Tsume.

Nearing the corpse, the fear of Izō's death swallowed Tsume's initial confidence in his survival. Tsume leaned over the body, illuminating it by his lantern. It was dressed all in Shinobi black.

"Who's there?" Okada's voice called out. He stood in his doorway, face lit through the rain by a paper lantern.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you," Tsume stood free from the threat of Izō's death.

"That must be a Shinobi."

"I prefer to say that he was."

"I figured the Templars could do better," Izō pulled his sword from the Shinobi's body.

"People will always find a way to surprise you, but we should be going. The island may be under attack."

"Endo..." Izō looked into the village.

"Takechi-sensei is checking hi-"

"Endo-sama!" Izō dashed toward the town, probably to the priest's house beside the church. Not wanting to risk another shinobi attack, Tsume followed. As Izō navigated the streets, Tsume jumped upon a barrel and scrambled onto a roof. The rain would make this decision more dangerous than usual. He raced Izō across the village while ensuring that no Shinobi could strike from above.

He pulled together his gift, and scanned as much of the island as he could while running. A few menacing flecks of energy appeared in the village and disappeared as they exited Tsume's range. Something else pulled him forward. It was the same pulling energy he would feel for any goal, but with a tinge of dread.

Tsume jumped over an alley, but slipped when he landed. His arms flailed to grab something while his weight pulled him off the ledge. He extended his hook to catch the

He was getting closer to the church faster than Izō could navigate the streets. The houses had been built so closely together, Izō could only go around entire blocks.

As Izō turned a corner, Tsume spotted an enemy aura on the street below and stopped. At no point soon could Izō see his enemy. Tsume leapt down upon the Shinobi, killing him by weight.

The friendly aura of Izō continued its approach unharmed, so Tsume scaled the building before him and continued running to the church.

When he finally reached Endo's home on the edge of town, Tsume dropped to the ground. The home itself was silent. The only thing he could hear was the heart thundering in his chest. The door looked inintruded, but the lesson of the night was that a closed door is not a mark of safety.

Takechi was nowhere to be seen and Izō had not yet caught up. Tsume worried about his teacher. He'd never seen the man in action, but a Master Assassin could not possibly be brought down by the Shinobi. Even if they set an ambush, he would expect it and not get cut down into a bloody mess. Even if they dropped from the sky, he could avoid it and not get crushed under their weight. Even if they ... Tsume felt the need to stop thinking about those grotesque images.

He pressed his finger onto the pistol's trigger and slid the door open. A faint face flashed and pulled the gun into the dark room. It fired before getting thrown into a wall. In the flash, Tsume pieced together the face as belonging to Takechi. He had never been so relieved to be disarmed.

"Sensei," Tsume threw up his hands, thankful he had not been pinned to the ground as Garen would have done.

"Tsume," Takechi dropped his combat stance, "Where is Izō?"

"He's still catching up. Where is Endo?"

"He and Kahori are hiding right now."

"Good," Tsume brushed his sweaty brow, "Everyone is safe."

"Safe? The Shinobi know where we are. We can't stay here. Kento never even rang the gong. I'm going to Nagasaki to talk with Ākuraito. Do you know anyone who may have given us away?"

Tsume ran the possibilities through his head, and only one name came to his lips, "Yoshida."