Chapter Thirteen—A New Beginning

Nearly three years ago…

It had turned out that the Shimajima islands were not that much different from Eastern Crescent. The same military lockdowns were in place—the same rationing and slow disregard for the livelihoods of its people.

Without money and work, Ichiro was left with thievery as a means to support himself. It was no matter. The measures Empress Akamine was forcing upon everyone would soon make criminals of the most decent sort.

And Ichiro was a killer, so stealing, especially from Governor Madison’s army and social workers felt good.

Though he wasn’t a resistance member.

It hadn’t taken long for the NCOP to become a fully-fledged resistance movement. Though they lacked weapons and other supplies, they were slowly gaining traction, and even some portions of the military had defected to their side. With a well-organized leadership, the organization was the perfect body to begin fighting back.

Or so Ichiro had heard when dealing with others. He knew nothing of leadership. He was a rogue, an assassin.

Ichiro came back to his tent in the forest. He was situated at the base of a mountain which had cliffs and flaky black slate where water seeped through in an ever present drip of fresh water that he collected on a daily basis.

He was far enough into the forest where patrols were never seen and no one bothered him, because there were no people out here.

For food, what he didn’t steal, he hunted. Wild pigs, birds and even some edible bugs were plentiful.

He came around the trees and found his pot of stew he had left on the fire empty, the children eating out of his metal bowls. They looked up at him with wide eyes.

Snarling, he took out his knife and they ran.

Their fat little bellies jiggling like the little thieving gluttons they were. Feeling a hotness in his face, he realized those children, despite stuffing themselves on his food, had actually been quite skinny and pathetic-looking.

Where had they come from?

Dropping most of his scavenged supplies from the city across the river, he decided to follow them, purely out of curiosity.

They must have ran most of the way, because he had to pick up his pace to keep up. They led Ichiro into a residential area of the city with fields of wheat and little wooden houses surrounded by apartment complexes.

He watched as they met an old woman on the porch of one house and then entered, fearful for their lives. The old woman glanced about warily, but finding nothing, she went inside.

These people were hungry.

And the wheat is probably used to feed the governor’s army.

With a heavy sigh, he stalked across the field and reached into his scavenging bag. He had a hearty loaf of bread there with nuts and seeds mixed in. It wasn’t the most tasteful bread, but the quality of the wheat and the nutrients of the nuts and seeds was superb.

He slid the wrapped loaf onto the porch and walked away.