Lessons Learnt

The sun seems to remain still in the sky, before it begins its gradual descent behind the horizon. Waves crash against the shore, sending the salt water skyward falling short of reaching the gulls, who circle above searching for their next meal. The smell of seafood cooking fills the air, inciting any passerbys.

A male, in his late twenties, wanders the streets almost as if he is looking for something. Or someone. With a satchel over his shoulder, the brim of his hood covering his brow, he moves through the crowds like a knife through water. He keeps his head down, no intention of drawing attention as a patrol of guardsmen walk past.

The man lets out a sight of relief as he turns his head, watching what route the guardsmen take. "Need to be more careful." He thinks to himself as he continues on his path. Suddenly the scream of a woman fills the air, grabbing the attention of anyone around including the guardsmen.

"He's dead " The woman shrieks as she points to the lifeless body perched on a nearby bench. "Someones killed him." She pauses a moment, filling her lungs. "Somones killed him."

Suddenly the guardsmen begin combing the area, searching for the murderer. The man glances down, realising he's left a trail of blood. A look of shock comes over his face. His instincts kick in, fight or flight. He chooses the later as pushes through the dense crowd. The guards notice this and soon take chase.

Thiago stood atop the roof, waiting for his signal. He did not wait long for Mentor to pass followed shortly by a team of four samurai. He pounced upon them, but anticipation had ruined his timing landed him before the samurai. Regardless, he stood straight before them and readied the trusty hookblade he was gifted in Constantinople.

"Ha!" one of the samurai mocked, "Put away your weapon old man. We need to catch that killer."

"Do not chase that man," he warned them, "he is one of my brothers, and you do not want our family to be angry with you."

Thiago lowered his head to cover his eyes beneath his hood's shade. A sneer crossed his face. Undaunted, the samurai drew closer. Within the blink of an eye, Thiago had tripped the samurai and held a boot to his throat. one of the other samurai began to step forward, but Thiago aimed his crossbow their way. Another samurai stepped forth. Understanding their meaning, Thiago launched a bolt into the man under his foot.

Then a flash and a boom. He had barely noticed it at first, but within seconds he could feel a burning pierce his back. He looked behind himself and saw a samurai holding a smoking musket. His vision was beginning to blur, but he could see more samurai closing in.

"Ajude-me [Help!]" he cried in his native tongue, praying that this would not be his end.

"Ajude-me!"

At that cry the samurai with the musket suddenly clutched at his neck, a red-fletched arrow sticking out of it. This gave the remaining samurai pause, and they began looking around to see where the missile had been fired from.

While they were distracted, another arrow came whizzing from the rooftops and stuck in another samurai's armor, just below his armpit. There was a brief flash of black hair, and another arrow came from the roof across the street, going directly through another man's face mask's eye.

"Find the shooter!" the lead samurai ordered.

"Good luck!" a voice called, further up the street. As another arrow stuck in a samurai's breastplate, a man stepped out to defend Thiago. He held two sabers in his hands, in a battle stance. A girl appeared on the roofs, holding a recurve bow, loaded and pointed right at the lead Samurai.

"Move and you all die," the man on the ground growled. "We have you surrounded."

Falling asleep on the roof seemed like a good idea at the time. The roof was so warm, and the sun made her feel so drowsy...

What she didn't realize was that soldiers were also on the roof.

Despite normally being a heavy sleeper, the woman's piercing shriek cause Masumi's eyes to fly open. The next thing she registered was having the wind knocked out of her as a large form dashed past, before another form sent her rolling off the roof. As she finally caught her breath, the smell of semi-fresh fish filled her nose. Somewhere out side, a deep boom sounded at deafening intensity. Finally, she managed to pick her way out of the seafood-filled cart that apparently broke her fall.

She was still unable to piece together what happened. Soldiers' weapons were drawn, people panicked, and she could see a hooded man bleeding, crying out in some foreign tongue. She didn't know whether to flee the scene, find a branch with which to whack everyone in sight, or to try and help the man in front of her. Instead, she froze, hugging the alley wall and staying as still as stone, as if hoping to become a part of the wall, waiting to see what happened next.

"Mr. Samurai, there is trouble!" a boy called, running over to Yuzuru. There was fear in his eyes. He had clearly seen something that his young eyes should not have.

"Where is this trouble, young one?"

As the boy led him to the scene, Yuzuru sighed and shook his head. He was moments away from purchasing a much need lunch after going hungry for a couple days. But the boy took priority. Adjusting his swords, he repositioned his scarf to cover the lower half of his face.

There was much to see. A man in brown, bleeding. A girl up on a roof with a bow. Another man with two sabers guarding the bleeder. Somewhere around, he heard the squish of someone landing in a fish cart. And dead ahead, three samurai stood with swords drawn.

"The Lord has a funny way of guiding His children," he mumbled.

One of the samurai noticed him standing to the side and hailed him. "Come help us, friend! These men are murderers and threaten the safety of the people!"

Yuzuru yawned as he stepped forward, drawing his sword. "It's unlike you to be so careless, Thiago-san. It would seem the Lord still has a special mission for you if He has sent me here." Reaching into his sleeve, he grabbed a shuriken and threw it at one of the samurai, landing it in his neck. "One down." Another, realizing he was no friend, turned to cut him down, but Yuzuru side stepped the attack and, with a quick slash, severed the samurai's head. "Two." The remaining samurai's sword trembled as their eyes met. It was a mere second before the samurai sheathed his blade and ran in the opposite direction.

"Forgive me, Father. I have once again drawn the blood of Your children."

The more Masumi watched, the more bewildered she felt. Samurai fighting amongst themselves? Or perhaps feuding factions reckless enough to take their fight in the city? Swords clashed, arrows struck from nowhere. Her eyes darted toward the hooded man on the ground, the red spot growing ominously larger.

Year of being on the receiving end of apathy made the beggar woman realized that she would not forgive herself if she left this man to die. Rolling up her sleeves, she steeped into the light, and prepared herself to drag the stranger into the alley, out of the fighting and pathway of still panicking civilians that stampeded frantically.

Swiftly she bent to the young man's ear, momentarily perplexed by how fair his complexion was. She tried to let him know she was a friend, offer a prayer, or some form of comforting words. All that she could manage to stumble out of her dry mouth was, "Don't die," before she encircled her arms around his torso, and tugged with all her strength, fueled by fear.

The male spins on his foot as the sound of musket fire fills the air. He spins on his back, only to be met by the view of a wounded brother. Pushing off his backfoot, he sprints like a leopard towards the injured assassin. Before he arrives he watches as a complete stranger pulls him to one side.

"OI" The mentor shouts, trying to grab the attention of the woman. He eventually catches up, coming to a stop as he slides along the floor. The first thing he notices is the blood escaping from his wound. He quickly looks over the woman, no time for making presumptions. "I need to get him to a doctor!"

As the samurai started retreating, the girl let the tension off her bow and took the arrow off nock. She brushed a stray strand of black hair away from her face, surveying the scene from the rooftop.

"[Mei! there is work to do!]" the man with the sabers commented in Mongolian as he relaxed as well. He was already helping the beggar woman pull Thiago into the alley. Mei sheathed her bow, and jumped across the street to catch the edge of the adjacent roof, dropping down to street level gracefully. She could see the blood and burnt bits of clothing on the old man, and the bullet wound.

"How is it Abagha?" she asked the Mongol.

"I've seen worse arrow wounds," he replied, looking over Thiago. "I keep telling you to retire old man, you're lucky that wasn't one of your own guns. We still need to find a doctor though, don't want it to get infected."

"I can keep watch on the roofs while you move him," Mei replied, patting her bow."

Mentor wrote:"OI" The mentor shouts, trying to grab the attention of the woman. He eventually catches up, coming to a stop as he slides along the floor. The first thing he notices is the blood escaping from his wound. He quickly looks over the woman, no time for making presumptions. "I need to get him to a doctor!"

Masumi was relieved that the stranger had kin, or at least allies. Simultaneously, she was terrified. Very few times in her life had she interacted with members of the warrior class, and dangerous and prestigious group, by all rights whom she should not be interacting with.

When she stopped dragging the foreigner, her hand slipped into the sleeves of her kimono, retrieving a bundle of rags. They would be relatively pure, she had washed them in the ocean not too long ago, and had protected them along with all her possessions from negative influence with prayers. She wasted no time pressing the rags on the center where the blood seemed to permeate from. Never had she dealt with a wound so serious, but if it was anything like the more minor wounds she had experience in, the pressure should slow the flow of blood. So much blood...*

Doctors... Masumi had just arrived in Nagasaki a few days prior, and the city still remained a mystery to her. She tried to replay the streets that she had traversed, but that only doctor she had taken note of was on the other side of town, sponsored by a Buddhist temple. Surely there had to be one closer.

She looked to that man addressed her, noting the similarities in dress to the man still on the ground, waiting to see what he would do next. Words still seemed to stick inside her throat. She tensed, ready to flee should he take offense in her bold actions, or perhaps he was the owner of the fish cart she had so carelessly spoiled? She felt herself long for the broom, what little good it would do her, that she had stashed outside of town. Worry festered within her, and she felt her hands tremble.

Yuzuru took note of all the people who had come to Thiago's aid as he sheathed his sword. He mumbled a prayer of healing and protection before easing himself back into the crowd. There was still work to be done in Mutsu.

Thiago's sight gradually faded back in. His ears remained aware of everything that was going on around him. Immediately, he tried to spring to a stand. He tried, but either the slippery blood on the street or the pain in his back planted him into the ground. He observed his surroundings: bodies, brothers, a doctor, and a... homeless doctor. He tried to inch his hand toward the homeless doctor, whose face he did not recognize, "Who the inferno {hell} are you? Você é um anjo?"

Thiago Lopes wrote:Thiago's sight gradually faded back in. His ears remained aware of everything that was going on around him. Immediately, he tried to spring to a stand. He tried, but either the slippery blood on the street or the pain in his back planted him into the ground. He observed his surroundings: bodies, brothers, a doctor, and a... homeless doctor. He tried to inch his hand toward the homeless doctor, whose face he did not recognize, "Who the inferno {hell} are you? Você é um anjo?"

She couldn't suppress the "Eep" that squeaked out of her mouth when the warrior addressed her. By some miracle, she managed to maintain the pressure on the bundle of rags. The only thing she could make out was a demand for her identity. Nervously, she explained, "I am Masumi. Please, Tono*, if you move too much, I fear you may lose more blood."

(Tono roughly translates to "milord," but doesn't necessarily indicate a status of nobility.)

"It is only a flesh wound, meu mongol irmao {my Mongolian brother}. Were it an arrow or. . . not a Japanese gun, I would surely be dead. A lot of blood yes, but I can still feel my toes, so it hasn't pierced my spine. I need to get to a place where I can heal in quiet," he looked back to his homeless doctor, careful not to scare her with eye contact, "What is your name, Senhorita?"

Thiago Lopes wrote:"It is only a flesh wound, meu mongol irmao {my Mongolian brother}. Were it an arrow or. . . not a Japanese gun, I would surely be dead. A lot of blood yes, but I can still feel my toes, so it hasn't pierced my spine. I need to get to a place where I can heal in quiet," he looked back to his homeless doctor, careful not to scare her with eye contact, "What is your name, Senhorita?"

Senhorita… what a peculiar honorific. Masumi combed through her memory, recalling a similar honorific used amongst the Western missionaries. She was tempted to try and say the strange name aloud, but instead mustered her manners long enough to introduce herself, “How do you do, Tono? I am Masumi.” She attempted to offer a bow, but could only bob her head without releasing pressure from the wound.

She was surprised when she heard this man reassure is allies that the wound was not as serious as it appeared. There seemed to be blood everywhere. The beggar woman had seen and treated a number of ailments during her life time, but admittedly a wound caused by the gun was wholly new to her.

Addressing the injured man’s allies, she ventured, “Pardon me, Tonos, but if you press on the wound with fabric the way I do, it should help slow the bleeding.” In truth, she was anxious to be dismissed. She planned on obtaining a fish or two that she had damaged for her next meal, and fleeing from the chaos of the city streets, the owner of that fish cart and the peculiar warriors. She longed for her stash in the country side, including the handle of her hefty broom. She longed even more to take inventory of her herbs, in order to see if she had enough to make a salve to treat the bruising she could already feel under her kimono (from when one of the guards had stepped on her).

"[Mei, keep pressure on that wound for the woman,]" Abagha commented to the girl.

"[On it,]" she replied, kneeling down next to Thiago and pressing down on the bandages. She could feel the bullet under the cloth, but figured she shouldn't remove it just yet. Bullet wounds are a lot like arrow wounds, in that the projectile makes a nice plug for the hole it causes.

"We're too exposed out here, we need to move soon," she said to no one in particular. "Can you move, Temur?" she asked, addressing Thiago. She and the Mongolian Assassins called him that out of respect for his iron will, and his age.

Thiago pressed his hands to the ground and pushed himself to his knees, "Sim {Yes}, we had best get back to the hideout. Mentor and Mei's Uncle," he pointed them out individually, "I need you to watch my back in case we have trouble. Mei, I need you to hold the wound. Senhorita," he patted his homeless doctor on the shoulder and slipped her some mon* into her hand, "You did an excellent job. I expect we will meet again soon," he looked back to his other doctor, "I will recommend your services," then began his trek toward the hideout, "By the way, where are Yuzuru and Au'Lani?"

*the monetary unit of Japan until 1871

Thiago Lopes wrote:...Senhorita," he patted his homeless doctor on the shoulder and slipped her some mon* into her hand, "You did an excellent job. I expect we will meet again soon,"...

*the monetary unit of Japan until 1871

Masumi let out a soft gasp, "You are too kind, Tono." Happily, she dismissed herself. Slipping enough coin in her sleeves for a large bowl of ramen and a new needle, she slipped the remaining mon into the pile of fish. She knew the owner would return before long, a merchant is never far from his wares, she could only hope it would be enough, if for no other reason then her own sense of integrity. She then proceeded down the streets, careful not to look at the corpses, on the quest for a ramen stand.

Mei nodded, keeping her hand on the man's wound to staunch the bleeding. He was pretty reckless for an old man, but he was a pretty respected man among the Mongolian assassins, considering he's the man that got them to come over to Japan.

"Just another day in Nagasaki, huh Temur?" she asked with a smile as they started moving.

"Living the dream," Abagha replied, keeping his swords out and ready while they went down alleyways, avoiding the main road till they got back to the hideout.

The mentor, leader of the assassins in Nagasaki, nods as he takes in the information. He smiles as he looks upon the family like bond the assassins share. Standing up, he lowers his hood, revealing a man who had seen too mucn fighting for one lifetime. He nods, acknowledging the plan.

He turns on his backfoot, spinning to face the opposite direction. Placing his right hand on the hilt of his blade, he slowly draws his weapon, allowing the sun to reflect off the beautiful tool of war. He nods once again, signalling its time to move.