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He hated backwaters like this one. There was nothing to do, no one to see, but too many people to notice that he arrived. He was there on a mission, he was alone. He wasn't to communicate with anyone back home until the job was done and he was on his way back.
Ichiji sipped his beer, looking around the bar with little interest. It's not like there was anything exciting to see. He would just have to wait here and rest until nightfall, then he'd slip up to the large estate on the hill and assassinate his mark. It didn't matter why their patron wanted the man and his family dead, only that they'd paid in advance.
Germa was not in the business of asking unnecessary questions, and that's why people trusted them with these things. Ichiji finished his beer and ate a bit of the bread and cheese the barkeeper had managed to find for him. It wasn't exactly delicious, but it would keep him moving for now. His body burned through calories like mad, but this shouldn't take long, and it shouldn't be hard.
Movement towards the front of the room drew his eye and he watched as a young woman wound her way through tables, ignoring the leering of the men, even as they reached out to make grabs at her rear or breasts. The men in this tavern, save himself and a few others, were all guards under the employ of the local Lord. The very man he was there to kill.
"Oh, don't be such stuck up bitch, Girlie. We just want to have a good time, and we keep all of you safe from pirates and bandits. The least you could do is reward us," a burly, bald man said.
The woman backed away, the tray she'd carried drinks on only moments before clutched to her chest as if it would protect her. "I'm not interested, alright?"
The bald man laughed and grabbed at her again, undeterred when she slapped his hand away. "The less you want it the better it'll be for us."
The man made a grab for her again and she slammed the tray's edge across his face with surprising force, enough that the blunt rim bit into his skin and drew blood. "I said I'm not interested!" She snapped.
"You stupid little bitch! I'm gonna kill you!" He snarled, reaching for the knife at his belt. The sound of the hammer of a pistol being pulled back cut the tension.
"Not in my bar you won't," the barkeeper said, the gun in his hand remarkably steady for a civilian. This was just enough of a distraction for the woman to slip away, into the back.
Ichiji sighed, relaxing as the guards settled back down, grumbling, but otherwise calm. He was beginning to see what this island was like and why someone might want the Lord dead if he allowed his men to carry on this way. Despite the things that made him different from everyone else in this bar, he could still rationalize. Just because he didn't feel human emotions doesn't mean that he couldn't still understand why people acted the way they did. He understood from an ethical viewpoint that rape was always wrong, where killing someone could be a reasonable response to their actions. In that way, he was more human than these guards.
He stood and made his way to the bar. "Could I get another pint?" He asked, placing his payment on the counter.
The barkeeper nodded and poured him more beer. When he slid his pint towards him, he leaned closer. "I don't suppose you could do me a favor?" He asked.
Ichiji frowned. "I'm not in the habit of doing favors, try your luck elsewhere."
He went to turn away, but the barkeeper grabbed him by the wrist. Ichiji could easily get away if he wanted, there was nothing this old man could do to stop him, but something in his eyes spoke of desperation, and, despite their father's best efforts, he still reacted to such things.
"Make it quick, old man. What do you want?"
The barkeeper leaned in a little more and Ichiji only just managed not to wrinkle his nose against the smell of sweat and cheap beer. "That girl, she's my daughter. She's all I got left in the world since her mother passed. Those bastards have been trying to get their hands on her for weeks. I dunno who you are or what you're here for, but I know that you're only passing through and that you have your own boat. I'll pay you, but please, take her somewhere else. Things have gotten bad here and I don't know how much longer I can keep her safe."
It was a reasonable request, though he figured that maybe if he killed the Lord, the guards would scatter without their employer to pay and enable them. He cocked his head. "Have you all ever thought of fighting back? Killing the Lord?"
The barkeeper rubbed the back of his neck. "Of course we have. We've tried. That's why there's so few of us left. We either got killed because of the last time we rose up, or, in the case of most of the women and girls, they're permanent guests at the manor. You can imagine what's happening to them. The only women left in the village are either too old to suit anyone's taste, or…they're Saoirse. My daughter."
Ichiji hummed. "And if I could do this for you, would you still want her to leave?" He asked.
The barkeeper nodded. "This is no place for her. She's a grown woman with dreams and talent. She should be free to see what's out there, beyond this shore. Besides, even if the Lord died, someone from his guard would just rise to take his place, and Saoirse would end up in their clutches anyway."
Ichiji sighed a little at that. He really didn't want to get involved with all this, but…it wouldn't really be that hard to get her out of here. "Fine, but I want to talk to her about it. I'm going to finish my beer and go upstairs. Send her up with a cup of tea after an hour."
Ichiji sighed as he sank into the water, his head resting against the porcelain. His room was the only one with its own tub, and he'd made damn sure to get it. He closed his eyes, resting for a moment before he got washed up. Sure, he would be covered in dirt and blood in only a few hours, but he wanted this comfort before he tried to get a nap.
A knock on the door made him frown. He'd told the barkeeper not to send her up immediately. He'd said "give me an hour," and yet, if he had to guess, here she was. He heard a key slide into the lock and the door swung open, revealing his guest. Saoirse was pretty, even he could see that. She was of average height, but her figure was anything but. She had soft green eyes and plump lips, fair skin and dark hair. He figured she must take after her mother.
She closed the door behind her and placed his cup of tea on the bedside table, her cheeks flushed as she struggled to look anywhere but at him. She eased herself into the only chair in the room and looked down at her lap. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were going to be…"
"Naked? I hadn't intended be when we spoke. I'd asked your father to give me an hour," he said. He picked up the washcloth and lathered it up with soap, ignoring the incredulous sound she made as he stood and began to scrub himself clean.
"Isn't that awkward for you? It's awkward for me!" She huffed.
He looked over at her, taking note of her scarlet cheeks, and her steady gaze. It was a contradiction that he found fascinating. "Have you never seen a naked man before?" He asked. She blushed even more furiously and shrugged.
"Not…not one like you," she said. "Not one so…" she trailed off, but the way her eyes flicked over his body before darting away told him what he needed to know.
"I see. You may look, I don't care." He was a weapon, and weapons didn't need to be embarrassed. "Has your father told you anything?" He asked.
"We're gonna talk about this now?! I…I'd rather wait until you're dressed. I'm not sure I can concentrate otherwise." She'd muttered that last bit, but like so much else about him, his hearing was very keen.
"Very well, then I will wait until I'm dressed." He really didn't understand why people found nudity so embarrassing. Bodies were something everyone had, and she didn't know the difference between his and another man of similar age and build. Everything that set him apart was hidden in his genes, and she had no way of seeing those.
He rinsed himself of the soap and drained the tub drying himself off with the same efficiency he used for everything else in his life. He walked past her to his pack and changed into clean clothes, ignoring the way he could feel her eyes on him.
"Has anyone told you that you're really weird?" She asked.
"A few may have mentioned it, why?" He looked over his shoulder as he finished getting dressed, cocking his head.
"Well, it's just that most people get embarrassed when they're seen naked, especially by strangers. Usually people who don't are perverts who get off on people's reactions. You're different, though. I don't get the sense that you liked it, you just really don't seem to care one way or another." She stood and peered up into his eyes, as if trying to understand him. He looked away quickly, sliding his glasses on. "That's what makes you uncomfortable? I just saw your cock from four different angles and you get uncomfortable because I looked you in the eyes?"
"Yes." It was one thing he'd never liked. He felt vulnerable and exposed when someone looked too deeply into his eyes. If eyes were the window to the soul, then he'd much prefer to keep the blinds drawn.
Saoirse hummed. "Well, anyway. To answer your question from earlier, yes. Father has told me what he's planning. You're not the first person he's asked about this." She shrugged and flopped onto his bed, pulling a pillow close so that she was more comfortable. He picked up his tea and took a sip. It wasn't bad, considering what they were working with.
"I see. And how do you feel about it? I will not force you to leave," he said.
Saoirse shrugged and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. She was quiet for a moment, contemplating what she wanted to say. "I don't know. Part of me likes the idea of leaving. Another part is scared, because as bad as it is, this place is still my home."
Ichiji sat on the edge of the bed, close enough to her that she could touch him, but no one ever dared to do such a thing. In Germa, he was the first Prince. He was untouchable, people didn't even dare to look at him. Outside of Germa, he was someone to be feared and avoided. He was unsettling and monstrous. He flinched when he felt her knee press against his hip, as if she were unaware that she should treat him as if he were a venomous snake.
"You're really beautiful, even if you are weird," she said.
Ichiji frowned. "Beautiful?" He'd heard himself described in other ways, but this was a first.
"Yeah. You have really pretty skin, it's so pale and completely perfect. I've never seen anyone like that. You don't have a single scar, no blemishes, you don't even have any freckles or moles. Nothing. It's like you were carved out of marble." She sighed and sat up, looking at him for a moment. "If you were, it might actually explain a few things about you."
"I assure you I wasn't. A human woman brought me into this world, just like everyone else." Not everyone, he supposed. Their soldiers didn't have that luxury, but now wasn't the time to think about all that.
"And did she give you a name, or are you just going to leave me wondering?" She asked.
"My name is Maël, forgive me. I usually do manage to be more polite," he said. He finished his tea and put the cup aside.
"You're here to kill Lord Haversham, aren't you?" Her voice was soft, without accusation.
"Yes." She had already figured it out, so why should he lie? She didn't need to know specifics or the truth of his origin, but he could admit to this.
"You're an assassin, then?"
"Something like that." He felt her shift behind him, but he didn't let himself look. It didn't matter if she was moving closer, or trying to get away from him.
"Okay. Then I won't ask too many questions about it. The less I know, the better, right?"
"That would be wise, yes." He finally turned to look at her and found that she was watching him closely, her green eyes curious. "What is it?"
"Oh, nothing. I guess I'm just trying to figure you out. You talk like such a gentleman, but you kill for a living. I should be afraid of you, or at least wary, but I feel safer here with you than I ever have anywhere. I just find you confusing," she said.
Ichiji hummed, resting on his knees. "You shouldn't feel safe," he said. She had no business feeling safe around something like him. He fit the bare minimum requirement for being "human," but he could never give her anything meaningful. Kindness coming from him always had a purpose, or a price attached.
She sat beside him, shrugging. "Well, I do. So that's just something you have to put up with. I'll deal with it." She smiled, as though she were trying to comfort him. "I want to go with you, Maël."
He nodded. "Very well. I'm going to rest for a few hours before I do this. When I'm finished, I will come back for you and we will leave immediately. Say your goodbyes and pack light," he said.
She nodded and flopped back down on the bed, rolling onto her side. He frowned. "I would like to sleep," he said.
"There's room. Those creeps are still down there, so I'm staying here until we're closed," she said.
He hesitated for a moment, considering his options. He hadn't slept next to someone like this since childhood, but he also really did want a nap. He was tired. He sighed and laid down, turning his back to her. If she wanted to stay, then he wouldn't make her leave.
Ichiji woke up in the dark, blinking a few times to clear his vision. He frowned as he realized Saoirse had wrapped herself around him, her arms holding onto him tightly, her leg wrapped around his waist. Her face was tucked against the back of his neck, and she was still sleeping soundly. How had he not noticed this happening?
He reached down and patted her hand, hoping he could wake her gently. He didn't want to startle her, after all. She grumbled against the back of his neck, nuzzling him as her arms tightened. He shook her arm, hoping that would get her to move.
"Saoirse, wake up."
She hummed and shifted. "Time to go already?"
"Yes. Could you let go, please?" He asked.
She released him with a sigh, as if she were disappointed. "Fine, take my man shaped furnace. I'll just go back to sleep and be cold!"
"You're being dramatic."
He put his boots on and took what he needed from his pack. His dagger was a comforting weight on his hip. He put his coat on and turned to look down at Saoirse as she stood up. She reached out to touch his arm. "Good luck. You'll be careful, right?"
Ichiji frowned. "I won't need luck, but…I will be as careful as I can. Be ready to leave when I return."
She nodded and came up onto her toes, brushing a soft kiss against his lips. He froze, his heart kicking in his chest. He'd never been kissed by someone like that, as if he were someone who needed or deserved gentleness. She smiled up at him. "I'll be waiting."
The grass was damp as he slipped up the hill, keeping low and sticking to the shadows of trees and fences. The closer he got to the estate, the less dilapidated things became. He knew that people who lived under such conditions were often resentful and angry, and that was understandable. To their mind, the Lord lived in ease and comfort while they barely had enough to survive, and that was unfair. And, to him, that reasoning made sense. They worked hard to provide for themselves and their families, after all, which brought his mind back around to the barkeeper and his daughter.
He couldn't stop thinking about Saoirse and her strange interest in him. He'd been called attractive, he'd used that to his advantage. He'd lured people to their deaths with his appeal, had used sex to get close enough. Did she not deserve better than that? Did she not deserve a man who could give her real love, real companionship? A family that was safe and normal and kind? It was in that moment that he realized that the kind of man she deserved was Sanji, and that was uncomfortable.
He shook his head, trying to refocus. Just because he was unlikely to die, he still didn't need to make a mistake. This needed to be clean and quick. He pressed himself against the stone wall around the perimeter of the estate, listening to the movement of guards on the other side. They patrolled as was normal, but they were chatting and laughing.
"That little bitch from the bar, man. She's pretty, but she's got a lot of fucking nerve. Did you hear what she said to me?" One asked.
"About your dick? Yeah I heard. You should have beat her ass," another said.
"She didn't give me the chance. She ran up to that drifter's room. What's the deal with that guy anyway? He feels…evil."
Ichiji waited until their voices drifted away into the night, allowing him to slip through unseen. He wasn't concerned by what they said about him, it was all true, but he felt strangely defensive of Saoirse. She was the victim of their harassment and assault, they should simply be thankful to still have their lives, let alone their cocks. Reiju would have taken both with less provocation.
He'd studied the blueprints of the home and the surveyor's notes on the property, so he knew that there would be a small cellar door on the south facing side of the building, which could be used to access the kitchen. It was unlikely that any of the staff would be awake at this hour, and so he would not need to silence any of them. The cellar door was locked, but that was no problem, it was easily picked. He slipped inside, careful not to knock anything over as he crossed the small space.
When he was younger, he had been curious what it looked like to other people when he was in the darkness, his eyes open and uncovered. He'd learned that night that it was strange and uncomfortable gazing into the eyes of a nocturnal predator, even if they were his own. He learned later that the modifications to his eyes had been modeled after crocodilians, granting them an eerie red glow in low light. It was incredibly useful, but it did lead to people mistaking him for some kind of demonic entity moments before they died, which was perhaps appropriate, if a bit unkind.
He climbed the steps, squeezing himself into the narrow space at the top of the stairs. He tested the door and found it unlocked, cracking it open to check and ensure there was no one nearby. So far, so good. He could hear someone moving around upstairs, but the footsteps were heavy, like someone wearing boots. Likely a guard, not a member of the family. They should all be asleep, as long as the information he'd gotten from their patron was good.
While the guards here certainly deserved to be punished for the way they treated people, and how they conducted themselves, his goal was to not need to fight. He allowed them to move on to their next destination before creeping forward, taking the stairs up onto the main floor carefully, trying to ensure they wouldn't squeak. The door swung open smoothly and he found himself immediately far too exposed. This was different from what the contact had said to expect, but it was empty for just long enough for him to duck into a shadowy alcove.
He watched the guard move on the balcony above the stairs, but it was obvious security wasn't particularly tight. They weren't expecting any trouble, nor did they think the people of the village capable of causing any harm.
He look around the area, but the central staircase was the most direct route to the second floor, and the bars on the windows complicated that method of entry. He took a deep breath. He just needed to be prepared to take down anyone who got in his way. He waited just long enough for the guard on the second floor landing to move on before darting out of hiding to draw his dagger and take the stairs two at a time. The man's back was turned, and he never saw him coming.
The blade slipped between the man's ribs, punching the breath out of him. Ichiji clamped his hand over his mouth and dragged him into a nearby room, only pulling the dagger free when he had the door closed. Blood poured freely from the wound, and the man lay there dead on the handwoven rug. He wiped the blood off on the dead man's shirt and quickly moved on, counting doors as he hurried for the bedroom he knew the Lord and Lady would be sleeping in. He needed to hurry before the other guards in the home noticed one was missing.
The bedroom door was locked, but it wasn't a complicated lock. The door swung open and he slipped inside. They slept soundly beside one another, much how he figured people in love usually did. He didn't know how that felt, but he liked to think he understood that most people were capable of it. Not him, but real people. Ones with souls and humanity.
He took his dagger in hand and covered the Lady's mouth first, holding her down as she woke with a startled jerk. He slit her throat before she could try to scream, leaving her to gurgle helplessly as she died. The Lord woke but Ichiji wrapped his hand around his neck, squeezing. He watched as his face turned purple, his eyes going bloodshot as the capillaries burst from the pressure. He clawed uselessly at his wrists, blunt nails making no mark upon the pale, hard skin there.
When he became positive that he was dead, too, he rolled his shoulders and stood up straight. There was one more person he had to take care of before he set the house ablaze. They had a son. He slipped from the parents' room and into the child's. He frowned when he saw a crib rather than a bed. He crept closer, peering down into the sleeping face of a little baby boy.
He was frozen, confused. This was such a small child, completely incapable of hurting anyone or earning such a thing. He reached out, brushing his gloved fingers across the pudgy cheek, breath catching as the baby's blue eyes opened and met his, a gummy smile spreading across his face. The baby cooed and babbled, his tiny fist closing around his index finger. He couldn't hurt this child. He was a monster, he was evil and cruel, but…looking down at this little boy, he knew that he couldn't do this. Just the thought of it alone made him feel sick.
He reached down and took the child into his arms, cradling him carefully to his chest. The child made a soft complaint, but Ichiji shushed him softly as he swaddled him in a blanket. He didn't know what he was doing, he'd never held a baby before, but he knew that they needed to leave. He fashioned a sling out of the blanket and snuggled the child against his chest, grateful that it seemed to hold.
He strode across the room towards the window, sliding it open. He was plenty strong enough to rip the bars off, and the guards would be too busy dealing with the fire he was about to set to notice him slipping away with the child. He let the bars drop to the ground below, climbing out onto the roof before tossing the flare he'd kept in his satchel the whole time inside. The flames caught almost immediately, crackling and hissing.
He climbed down the trellis nearby. Normally he'd just jump down, but with a baby strapped to his chest, it seemed unwise. He looked up as the flames began to roar above them, forks of the blaze licking out of the window, like fingers. He hurried away from the house as the bell began to ring, rousing the guards as their comrades noticed the fire. He knew that it would spread quickly and they wouldn't have much luck putting it out before it grew too wild to control. He slipped beyond the fence and left the shouting guards behind, the baby fairly quiet the whole time as he hurried down the hill towards town.
Ichiji found Saoirse standing in the middle of the street, looking up at the manor as it burned. Her expression was odd. He couldn't tell if she looked happy or not, but she did seem more comfortable with everything than he thought most people would be.
She looked at him then, zeroing in on the bundle at his chest. She cocked her head inquisitively. "A baby?"
Ichiji kept walking. "Do you have your things?" He asked.
"Yes, right here," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.
He nodded and kept moving towards the dock, not slowing down to make sure she was coming with him, he could hear her footsteps. He stepped onto the deck of his boat, already untying the mooring line. She joined him there, breathing hard, but he didn't have time to deal with her. Instead, he turned his attention to the rigging and getting them underway. They could rest when he was certain they weren't going to be followed.
About fifteen minutes later, after he set their heading, the child began to whimper. Saoirse came to stand by his elbow, again looking at the boy. "He's probably hungry," she said.
"We will come upon an island in about two hours where we can pick up supplies. If we can keep him soothed until then, it would be ideal." The only food upon the boat were his emergency rations, which a little baby couldn't eat.
"Was the baby part of the plan, or did it just kind of turn out this way?" Her tone was again devoid of judgement.
"I was meant to kill the entire family, including him. I…I couldn't do it," he confessed it as if it were some great sin, and he supposed it was in a way. He'd failed to complete the job as it was laid out, and he'd created another orphan rather than simply allowing the child to stay with his family, even in death. "When we reach the next island, you can decide whether you want to stay there or go to another. There are several along my path, both you and the child will find a home on one of them."
"And what if I want to stay with you?" She asked. "This world is a dangerous place, y'know? For both women and little babies."
He shook his head. "No. That isn't an option. I am not an appropriate person to care for him, and you would not choose to stay with me if you knew the truth."
He knew enough about babies to know that he didn't have what it took to take care of one long term. Certainly under his supervision, the child would survive, he would grow to be an adult, he would never want for anything physically. That wasn't enough for a normal baby. This child also needed care and love, and he couldn't provide that. As for Saoirse, she didn't even know his real name or who he really was. This was all a terrible mistake. He should have never gotten involved.
"Then tell me the truth and let me decide," she said, shrugging. "I know a few things about you already, and you've yet to prove me wrong in what I've assumed."
He huffed. "Fine. My real name is Vinsmoke Ichiji. I am the first Prince of the Kingdom of Germa, and if I return with both you and this child in my company, my father will know that I failed and will try to understand why."
Recognition sparked in her eyes, which was probably a good thing. If she'd heard of him or the Kingdom from which he came, then she would know that being there with him was unwise. She would see that he was unfit to take in a child. She would know that he was a monster.
"I'll take him so you can keep your attention on navigation," she said, extending her arms to take the boy from him. He allowed her to take both the baby and the blanket to keep him warm.
"The cabin has a wash basin, should either of you need it. The amenities aren't luxurious, but they're functional," he said, watching her retreating back.
It would be for the best if she chose to stay on the next island with the boy. No one would ever know that the child wasn't dead, she would be able to start a life of her choosing, and he could allow all of this to be forgotten. He would not need to think about it anymore.
They reached the island he'd mentioned about two hours later. He expected her to simply take her bag and the boy and depart without a word to him, but instead she stood by the gangplank and waited, looking up at him expectantly. He hesitated halfway through undoing the mooring to set off again. "What is it?" He asked.
"Well, if I remember correctly, you said we'd be getting supplies here, right?" She asked.
Ichiji tightened the rope again, sighing heavily. "You mean to keep traveling with me?" He asked, humming quietly when she nodded, as if he were slow. "I see. Then I suppose we'll be finding him a home?"
"We can try, but it might not be as easy as you're hoping. There are a lot of orphans in this world, and people aren't usually so eager to take in new ones, especially ones that aren't from their communities. You might be stuck with us both, Ichiji."
He fell into step beside her, wishing he could summon up the energy to be truly angry about anything. Her casual treatment of him ought to at least annoy him, but it didn't. The way the baby was beginning to fuss should make him angry, but instead he only felt what he assumed was pity. People looked at them on their way by and he stepped closer to Saoirse as they made their way to the center of town where a large cathedral stood.
He pushed the door open and held it for her before following her inside. A priest met them near the pulpit, his face kindly and weathered. This would be a fine place to leave the kid. He could be raised by people who at least wanted what was best for him. He would be taught to read and write, he would learn to care for others. He would have a path and purpose of peace.
"Good day, my children. Have you come for your child's naming ceremony?" He asked, looking at the baby in Saoirse's arms with a warm smile.
"I'm afraid not, Father. He is a foundling, and we are traveling. The sea isn't a kind place for adults, let alone a little baby. We were hoping you would grant him shelter, or could point us in the direction of someone who could," Ichiji said.
The priest hummed, thinking as he studied the three of them. "Let me see the lad," he said.
Saoirse handed him over with a slight hesitation, but settled him in the priest's arms. As soon as she stepped back, the child began to wail, the sound bouncing off the rafters and columns. Ichiji grit his teeth as the boy reached for him frantically, his little tear streaked cheeks blotchy and red. He couldn't take it, so he stepped forward and took the boy back, settling him against his chest. He calmed almost immediately, wrapping his hand around Ichiji's finger as he did only hours earlier.
"It would seem that the boy has grown attached to the two of you. I would guess he's around six months of age, so you're going to notice him changing quite a bit in a very short amount of time. I suggest you rest today before continuing your journey, you'll need supplies and you look about ready to collapse, my boy," he said.
Ichiji shook his head. "I will rest later, and I'm not…I'm not an appropriate guardian for a child."
The priest chuckled. "You're not giving yourself enough credit, my boy. You hold him like you're holding the world. You take to fatherhood naturally."
Ichiji felt Saoirse press herself against his side, her hand sliding up his arm. The touch is affectionate, a soothing gesture from someone that cares. He knows she's acting for the benefit of the priest, but it has the desired effect on him, anyway. He lets his shoulders relax.
"Maël, would a night in a bed be so awful?" She asked. "Would taking him with us truly make things any harder?"
He looked down at her, trying to understand her thoughts. Why was she so attached to him? Why was the child so attached to him? He was broken in ways he didn't even fully understand, he couldn't give them what they needed, nor what the deserved. He gasped softly as she cupped his cheek.
"Darling, you're going to run yourself ragged. Let's find an inn for the night and pick up what we need to care for him. We'll do this together, as we do all things," she said.
He wet his lips, feeling caught in her soft green gaze. "Fine." He turned to look at the priest and gave a polite half bow. "Thank you, Father. Walk in peace."
"And you, my boy. Give him a strong name! Raise him well, with more love than you were given."
Ichiji led the way out of the church, feeling a little overwhelmed by everything that had happened. He needed to decide how he would explain this to his father, but also his siblings. What would they think? Would his brothers think he'd gone soft? Would they try their luck against him? Would they hurt Saoirse or the baby? He took a deep breath and shook his head. He couldn't think about that right now, though maybe he'd risk a call Reiju later. She might have advice on the subject.
The inn they found themselves in for the evening wasn't fancy, but it was clean. The linens were fresh and smelled of clean sea air and soap. It had a tub with hot water access, a single queen sized bed, and the girl at the desk had provided them with a bassinet for the boy to sleep in. She'd cooed over how cute their "son" was and how lovely they were together. He now sat by the window with a freshly bathed, naked baby in his arms.
The child had shit all over himself while Saoirse was out purchasing things for his care, and rather than leave the poor thing like that until she returned, he'd taken it upon himself to rinse him clean and then run a shallow, gently warm bath and wash him head to toe with the soap provided. It was probably a bit harsh for his skin, but desperate times called for hotel soap. After he'd finished that task and swaddled the boy in a blanket, he cleaned the soiled clothes as best he could and hung them to dry on the balcony.
"I'm back! Sorry, it took me a bit longer to find formula than I had hoped, but I got what we need for the trip, at least. I'm sure we can do better when we get where we're going," Saoirse said, placing the shopping bags on the floor. "I'll make his formula first, then we can…oh. You already bathed him. Did he poop?"
"Yes," he said, shifting in his chair to watch her mixing the formula on the hot plate the inn had provided. "Did anyone give you any trouble?"
"No. They just assumed I was a mother buying what I needed. Why? Should I have expected to see trouble?" She asked.
"I suppose not." He watched her wash and then prepare the boy's bottle, check the temperature, and then walk over to him. He took the bottle from her and adjusted the child in his arms, helping him drink.
"It's almost like you've done this before," she said, easing herself down onto the bed.
"I haven't, but I've seen plenty of people caring for babies over the years. I…suppose I just remember what I saw and mimic it," he said.
Saoirse giggled and pulled the bags closer, pulling things from within. "I got diapers, some clothes so that he's not in the same dirty pajamas all the time, formula, a hat to protect him from the sun, and a few toys. Nothing extravagant, but it'll at least help keep him occupied." She laid everything out and he nodded.
It all seemed reasonable to him, babies were developing and needed things to stimulate their minds and hone their motor skills. She'd purchased a rattling toy, a teething toy, a toy with colorful rings he could stack, and a soft stuffed bear. "It seems like a good selection, at least for now."
The baby finished his bottle and began to squirm. Ichiji chuckled and gently placed him on the floor. "I suppose it's play time," he said. Saoirse offered the child the toys and he giggled and began to use them for their intended purpose, shaking and throwing them. She sat in the floor with him, and Ichiji watched as she tickled his belly and made him laugh. She bounced him up and down gently, to build the strength in his legs. She showed him how to stack the rings.
Ichiji couldn't stop looking at them. She was beautiful and soft, feminine and braver than any normal woman he'd ever met. The longer he spent with her, the easier it was to imagine that she'd stay, that he could possibly be something she wanted. He needed to put a stop to that line of thinking. "We need to name him."
She smiled over her shoulder at him, her bright with mirth. "Do you have any ideas?" She asked.
He wasn't good at names. When asked his name during missions, he always used the same one, Maël, because it was his middle name. The one thing he knew he'd gotten from his mother. "I don't."
"William?" She suggested.
There was nothing wrong with it, but it felt like the sort of name he'd already have been given. He shook his head.
"How about Alexander?" She cradled the boy as he crawled into her lap.
He considered it for a moment. "I think it could work, but maybe we should think a little more before choosing." It still didn't sound quite right.
She gave him a cheeky smile. "Maël?"
"That's my middle name, I'm not sure he should be named after me." He felt heat creep up into his neck at the thought, the idea of a son named after him in some capacity. He's not your son, he reminded himself.
Saoirse hummed. "Well, come up with an idea. You can't make me do it all alone, y'know?"
Ichiji thought for a moment, his thoughts going to history for inspiration. "Well…the first King of the Vinsmoke line, back when we still had a homeland, was said to be a foundling. When he came of age, he challenged the despotic King Halfor to a duel and defeated him. His name was Emrys. Perhaps that would be appropriate?" It wasn't quite the same circumstance, but it was poetic in a way.
Saoirse's face lit up. "I really like that. It's pretty and it has meaning. Maybe since we sort of liked Alexander, too, that can be his middle name?"
Ichiji nodded. "I like that." As much as he could like anything, at least.
Emrys began to slow down after a little bit and she scooped him up in her arms, placing him in his bassinet for a nap. She tucked the blanket around him and kissed his forehead before turning to Ichiji , a soft smile on her face. She reached out to touch him, her fingers tracing across his cheek before tracing over his eyebrow, her finger following the curl of it.
"You confuse me," he said.
"Why's that?" She asked, easing herself into his lap.
"You know who I am now, what I'm known for. You know the things I'm capable of doing, and yet you willingly stay. You touch me and cling to me. I just don't understand why," he said. It didn't make any sense at all.
"Because I like you. Sure you're a little awkward and weird, but it's cute. You're beautiful, and whether you like to admit it or not, there's a sweetness in you that a lot of "better" men don't have." She tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, her fingers lingering for a moment, teasing the sensitive skin there. Her eyes tracked his involuntary shudder.
"I was raised to be a weapon and robbed of my capacity for "sweetness." Hurting you would be easy for me, if there was benefit in doing so. If you became inconvenient, I would abandon you. If ordered, I would kill you. You're seeing things in me that aren't there," he said.
She hummed, her lips skimming along his jaw. "Keep telling yourself that," she said, pressing a kiss below his ear. His traitorous body shuddered again, which seemed to delight her.
"What does that mean?" He asked. He didn't recognize his own voice. He knew what it sounded like when someone was aroused, but he'd never heard it from himself.
"When you explained why Emrys was with you, you explicitly said that you were meant to kill the entire family, but when faced with the prospect of killing a little baby in his crib, you couldn't do it. You said those exact words. "I couldn't do it." You've had countless chances to hurt me, you could have left me, you could have told my father to piss off. You could have shoved me out of your room last night and made me face those bastards, but instead you shared your bed with me and let me cling to you. There's been no benefit to tolerating anything I do, either, and yet you do it without complaint. None of that is the behavior of a heartless killer, Ichiji."
Ichiji felt confused, but it all came to a stop as she pressed her mouth to his, kissing him again. His eyes slid closed instinctively and the sound he made as she pressed herself against him was positively shameful, but he couldn't care in that moment. He just needed her to keep touching him. Kissing him. Breathing life into him.
His heart was pounding in his chest, there was a pleasant tightness in his belly, a heaviness between his legs. He knew what was happening, his body still had the ability to react to physical stimuli, after all. It needed to be functional at an instinctual level so that he could reproduce. He knew his father intended for them to eventually have children of their own, who would go on to be experiments in some capacity, too, but here with Saoirse…it felt so different.
Her tongue brushed against his and he felt like she'd shocked him, earning her another pitiful moan. He was acting like he'd never been kissed, never been touched. Maybe in some ways that was true, he'd never been kissed or touched like this. Never by her. She pulled back with a soft sigh and he watched as she licked her lips, like he was something to be savored.
"Weapons don't kiss like they're drowning," she said.
She pulled away, rising to her feet. He felt suddenly cold without her in his lap, her hands and lips caressing him. She smiled, admiring her handiwork. For the first time in a very long time, he felt embarrassed. He sat there flushed and breathing heavily, his cock hard and straining against the zipper of his trousers.
"Weapons don't want, Ichiji. And you're sitting there wanting something very, very badly."
He couldn't respond, there was nothing he could say that would prove her wrong. So, if he was not just a weapon, not just a monster, then what was he?
"People do those things," she said. "So, what is it that you want?" She asked, her voice coaxing.
He didn't know if he was allowed to ask for what he wanted, but God she was already making him question everything he thought he knew about himself, so if he allowed himself this, would it really be such a sin? "I want you to kiss me again."
She smiled, clearly pleased with his response. She leaned down and pressed kisses to his forehead, his cheek, his jaw, and then finally, his lips. It was far more chaste than the last, but he didn't mind. When she pulled back this time, she ran her fingers through his hair.
"That's good. I'll have you acting like a man before too long," she said.
He took a deep breath, feeling strangely vulnerable as he looked up at her. "Will you be gentle with me?" He asked.
She smiled and cupped his cheek. "I'm going to be so gentle with you that it aches."