Assassin's Creed (c) Ubisoft

Concept (s) Sannam

Haytham stared at his breakfast: blueberry pancakes, a glass of milk, buttery toast and a small bowl of honeydew melon. "Do I have to eat all of this?" he asked. "Where's the syrup?"

Edward set the jar of syrup next to Haytham's plate. "Yes, it's your first day of school."

"I don't like toast," Haytham muttered as he poured syrup over his pancakes.

"Since when?" Edward asked, sitting down. He pulled the plate of toast towards him and poured some of Haytham's milk into his coffee.

"I never liked toast." Haytham pouted, stabbing his pancake. "You know that." The five-year-old attempted to bite the pancake.

"Haytham, smaller bites lad," Edward said, "Jaysus, do ya wanna choke?" Edward took a butter knife and pulled his son's plate towards him. He cut the pancakes into manageable sizes. "You need to learn to do this on your own."

"You won't show me," Haytham protested as he speared a pancake square. "Are you picking me up from school?"

"Should be, Áddie knows it's your first day so he said he'll cut me early. If not Uncle Thatch will or Aunt Mary," Edward said. "Your phone's charged?"

"Yep!" Haytham smiled. "Everyone's number is in it too."

"Good lad." Edward smiled, sipping his coffee. "You'll do great Haytham. Play nice with the other kids, especially the girls. Never hit a girl, even if they hit you first. So let the girls put glue in your hair."

"Why?" Haytham asked, sipping his milk. "I think the milk is going bad."

"Aw, fuck," Edward muttered, rubbing his palm against his eye. "Don't say that, okay?"

"I won't," Haytham assured his father, "cause if I do, Aunt Mary'll tan your hide."

Edward smiled and ruffled Haytham's hair. "That's my sea urchin."

"Do you hafta call me that?"

"Haytham," Edward said, "you whale always be my little sea urchin, and I whale always love you."

"Don't say that when you drop me off, please! Bad enough I have to have a Pirate of the Caribbean lunchbox and backpack."

"What's wrong with Captain Jack Sparrow?" Edward asked. Haytham gave his father a deadpan look.

"I wanted G.I. Joe."

"G.I. Joe is for prissy rich brats. You aren't one of them; you're a pirate," Edward said defensively, "Besides, your backpack has Will Turner on it."

"Father…" Haytham sighed, and went back to eating his breakfast in silence. Edward frowned, wondering if he said something wrong.

The car stopped in front of the school, clunking and banging before hissing a weary sigh as Edward put it into park. "Are you sure it's not going to break?" Haytham asked, eyeing the dashboard suspiciously.

"I'll tell Áddie to look at it," Edward muttered, patting the dashboard. There came the sound of something metallic falling from beneath the hood. Haytham glanced at his father, who merely shrugged. Haytham rolled his eyes and tugged at his tiny ponytail at the back of his head. He eyed the other children in the brightly colored new clothes from expensive department stores and then glanced at his Goodwill T-shirt, jacket, jeans and shoes. He suddenly felt utterly shabby compared to the other children.

"Father?" Haytham asked, hand on the door handle.

"Hm?"

"Can we go to Buy Smart after school and buy some new clothes for me?"

"What's wrong with the ones you have?" Edward asked. "They're clean. They don't have holes and they fit. Why do you need new clothes?"

"Father," Haytham sighed, "these are Goodwill clothes! Other people's throw-outs."

"So?"

"I look…" Haytham sighed, "stupid."

"No you don't," Edward said, "you look like my son, ready for his first day of school, about to fill his head with all that book smarts and make a bunch of friends." Edward put his hand on Haytham's head. "You don't need fancy clothes to be great, lad."

"Please can we go?" Haytham begged.

"Maybe, see how much spending money we have," Edward said.

"Alright," Haytham muttered, disappointed.

"Don't worry sea urchin, I'm gonna win the lottery this week, then I can buy you an entire closet of fancy clothes," Edward said, smiling. Haytham stared, before chuckling and shook his head.

"Bye, Father," Haytham said and opened the car door as he unbuckled himself from the seat.

"Do you want me to walk ya to the classroom?"

Haytham froze and took in his father's appearance: unkempt blond hair hastily pulled back into a tail, two days' worth of stubble on his face, coffee stains on the white T-shirt he wore (it had a the logo of some strip club on it), jeans stained and holed, with old sneakers. If his father's clothing didn't scare people, the scars on his face and the tattoos on his arms would. Haytham slipped off the seat. "No," he said, turning to face his father. "I'm fine."

"You sure, cause I don't—"

"Father, I can manage!" Haytham hissed, he could feel some of the other children and their parents staring at him. "I'll see you after school."

"Alright, alright," Edward huffed. "Have fun at school sea urchin, I whale always love you." Edward said loudly. Haytham heard some snickering behind him and his cheeks turned a bright pink.

"I love you too," he mumbled and closed the door before turning and heading towards the crowd, trying to keep his head down. Haytham followed the other kids into the building. Once inside, the new kindergarten students were herded off into their own section of the building, where the three teachers called out the names of students. Haytham didn't really pat attention to the names, only perking up when the teachers started calling names with H. "Haytham Kenway?" a woman called.

"Here!" Haytham called, shoving his way through the crowd of students. His teacher smiled and pointed to her classroom. Haytham went in and sat down at a desk.

"Hello," a boy said. Haytham stared at the other kid with wide eyes. He wore a red shirt and jeans but had a blanket over one shoulder and knotted at the opposite hit.

"Why are you wearing a blanket?" Haytham asked, then flushed. "I-I'm sorry, that was rude. Hi, I'm Haytham."

The boy chuckled. "It's okay. I'm William. My dad's an anto-pologist. He studies how the Native Americans lived before the English settlers. I like helping him and this is how they use to dress."

"Oh," Haytham said.

"I wouldn't be friends with him," a black boy said. Haytham wrinkled his nose in confusing. "I'm Achilles, and William is a jerkface."

"Am not!" William protested. Haytham looked between the two of them. "Haytham, don't listen to Achilles. He's just a sore loser."

"I'm not a sore loser! Shay cheated! He was on our team but decided to play for you guys half way through the game!"

"He didn't cheat! He was the 'rogue'! He followed the rules!" William protested.

"We never agreed to no such rules!" Achilles protested, and then focused his attention on Haytham. "William and his friends are lying cheaters. Don't play with them."

"Listen," Haytham began diplomatically, "I get that you don't like William, but I can make my own friends."

"Fine," Achilles spat, "play with William and his jerkface friends."

Haytham frowned, confused as to why Achilles was so mad at him. "Don't worry Haytham, we have a clubhouse."

"A clubhouse?" Haytham arched a brow.

"Yep! It's in a big old oak tree near my house! It's really cool. You should come and see it!"

"Maybe," Haytham muttered.

"I'll introduce you to my best friend Thomas! Thomas can be... odd but Ben and John don't mind him too much. See we are all friends, but Thomas and I are best friends, same with John and Ben," William rambled.

"Erm… maybe," Haytham muttered, "I'll have to ask my father, though."

"Sometimes Shay plays with us too. Though Shay plays with Liam and Hope mostly, the three of them sometimes play with Achilles. At recess I'll introduce you to my friends, sound cool?"

"Yeah, I guess," Haytham muttered. He chewed his lip, unsure how to deal with William. He never went through day care or pre-school and he didn't exactly play much outside with the other kids in the neighbourhood. This was all frighteningly new for Haytham, though he liked William. Their teacher calling the class into session spared Haytham from William's further inquiry.

Edward parked the car in front of Ádewalé's shop. The vehicle moaned in relief and Edward patted the dashboard, muttering encouragement to the beat-up old car. He was about to exit when he noticed Haytham's lunchbox sitting in the passenger seat. "Shit," Edward muttered, and opened the door. "Áddie! Áddie! I have to go!"

"Wha' da fuck, mon! Ya jus' got here!" Ádewalé shouted as he rolled out from beneath a car he was working on. "Why?"

"I know, but Haytham forgot his lunchbox! It's his first day at school."

"Alright," Ádewalé sighed, "be quick. An' ya owe me, got it!"

"Aye, whatever you want," Edward said, starting the car up. The car whirred, protesting. "C'mon, c'mon, you fucking stupid piece of junk! Start!" Edward snarled and slapped the dashboard. The car hummed into life after that. "Jaysus." He stuck his head out the window. "I'll be back in about twenty minutes!"

"Jus' go, mon!" Ádewalé shouted. Edward grumbled before speeding off back towards the school.

He got to the school fifteen minutes later, parked the car (which groaned and sighed in relief as the engine was shut off. He really needed to get Ádewalé to look at it) and ran into the building, Jack Sparrow lunchbox in hand. He slammed his palms against the counter of the office. A grouchy lady looked up at him. "Hi, I'm looking for my son."

"Aren't we all," she drawled.

"No, listen, I need to get him his lunchbox!" Edward said, holding up the aforementioned lunchbox. "His name is Haytham Kenway, he's in kindergarten, just started today. What's his classroom?"

"Fill this out and have a seat," the secretary sighed, handing Edward a clipboard with a piece of paper on it.

"No, lady, just tell me what classroom Haytham Kenway is in? I'm his father, Edward."

"Fill out the paperwork and have a seat."

"Jaysus fucking Christ! I'm not here to pick him up; I'm just here to drop off his lunchbox!"

"Language Mr. Kenway," she said, not even looking at him. Edward growled and marched down the hall. "Sir! Sir! Sir!" she called, but Edward flipped her off. She frowned and thought about calling security but got distracted by a ping from her phone.

Edward peeked into every window he came across until he found Haytham's classroom. He barged in without preamble. "Morning ma'am!" he greeted Haytham's teacher who squeaked in surprised, and drawing the attention of the students. All but Haytham, who was feverishly praying that the ground would open up and swallow him, Edward trotted up to his son and put the lunchbox on his desk. "You forgot this in the car," Edward whispered.

"Father!" Haytham hissed.

"Love ya, sea urchin!" Edward said and pressed a kiss to Haytham's cheek before exiting the classroom, cheerily greeting the tired security guard that waiting outside the door.

"Who was that?" William asked, peeking at Haytham, whose face was a bright cherry red.

"My father," Haytham muttered and shoved his lunch box beneath his desk.

:3

Poor Haytham, getting embarrassed like that by his father.

So the groups of friends are Haytham and the Templar Boy Band, Achilles and Assassin Dads. Shay, Gist, Liam, Hope and Monro are the rogue kids that sometimes play with Achilles and Assassin Dads and sometimes play with Haytham and the Templar Boy Band. Shay will eventually hang out more with the Templar Boy Band.

Haytham and Achilles don't like each other. And William's dad is an anthropologist. I had to explain his outfit somehow.

Rodrigo Borgia and Mario Auditore are both in first grade. They'll appear later.

I feel sorry for Edward's car.

This is why Haytham doesn't have any friends.

I'm just going to assume that everyone that doesn't review hates this story.

Save an author; leave a honest review!

-Nemo