Whispers in Gion

The quiet hum of the Nakamura residence carried through the wooden corridors, the scent of cedar and green tea thick in the air. Jessica sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, hands resting lightly on her knees, the weight of the night still pressing against her ribs.

Across from her, Yuki Nakamura was methodical, placing the lacquered tea bowl in front of them with the same precision she had carried all evening. There was a discipline to her movements, a sharp control that Jessica recognized.

“This isn’t just about a stolen artifact,” Yuki said finally, breaking the silence.

Jessica’s eyes flickered to Leanna and Olivia, who sat just as still, waiting.

Yuki continued, her voice low, deliberate. “The mask is part of a set—two Noh masks, crafted in the late Edo period. But these aren’t just collector’s pieces. There’s no provenance. No archival mention. No temple records. It’s like they slipped through history. There are legends of them being used in a wartime experiment…” She cuts herself off, “That is just legend.”

She let the silence linger a moment. Then more to herself than anyone else, “As if they were never meant to be found.”

Jessica frowned. “Then how does anyone even know they exist?”

Yuki’s eyes darkened. “Because someone is already killing for them.”

---

Olivia leaned forward, propping her elbows on her knees. “Who are we dealing with?”

Yuki set down her tea bowl. “The broker who was selling the first mask—Kazuhiro Sasaki. Mid-level player in Kyoto’s black market, mainly deals in art and antiquities. But his connection to the second mask is unclear.”

Jessica nodded slowly. “And the buyer?”

Yuki’s jaw tightened. “Unknown. But whoever it is, they have reach. They were in contact with multiple fixers across Tokyo and Osaka, all pushing for the same thing—both masks, together.”

Leanna crossed her arms. “Meaning they believe the second mask is still out there.”

Yuki nodded. “And they’re not after a payday. They’re after something they can’t buy.”

Jessica let that sink in. A missing artifact, no official history, and a buyer with global reach. That wasn’t a black-market deal. That was something else entirely.

Yuki exhaled. “Sasaki is making a private sale tonight. An exclusive teahouse in Gion—high-end, closed circle. If we’re going to get answers, that’s where we start.”

Jessica exchanged a glance with Leanna and Olivia. They didn’t need to discuss it. The decision had already been made.

---

The room was dimly lit, golden light reflecting off polished tatami mats. A single shamisen played in the background, its melody lilting but controlled. The clientele was curated—men in tailored suits, a few women in discreetly elegant attire. There was wealth here, but not the kind that needed to flaunt itself.

At the far end of the room, the conversation was already unfolding. A man in his fifties, European, distinguished in the way old money always was. Across from him, Kazuhiro Sasaki, his sleeves pushed up, casual but not careless.

Between them, a simple wooden box.

Jessica recognized the controlled body language, the measured tones. This wasn’t a negotiation. It was a test.

They took their seats along the side of the room, careful to blend into the periphery. Watching without watching.

The broker opened the box. Inside, resting on a bed of silk, was the Noh mask.

Jessica exhaled slowly. They had found it.

The businessman leaned forward, fingers resting lightly on the table. “This one is genuine?”

Sasaki inclined his head. “The last of its kind.”

Jessica’s eyes flickered to Leanna. The phrasing was deliberate. This wasn’t just an artifact—it was part of something bigger.

---

The businessman ran a finger along the lacquered edge of the mask. “And the other?”

Sasaki hesitated, then offered a careful response. “Still lost.”

Jessica knew he was lying. It wasn’t just in his words, but in the way his thumb tapped twice against the table, his gaze cutting briefly to the screen near the door. He was covering something.

The businessman exhaled through his nose, then murmured something under his breath. A phrase in Latin, “Quae corpus obliviscitur, anima retinet.”

Jessica’s stomach tightened. She knew that phrase. She’d seen it before in the Lazarus documents buried in Montevideo, inked beside a Templar insignia like a warning scrawled in code. Quae corpus obliviscitur, anima retinet. What the body forgets, the soul retains.

Leanna tensed beside her. Olivia, half-listening to the feed in her earpiece, had stopped blinking.

The businessman reached into his jacket and withdrew a card, sliding it across the table.

“Find the second one,” he said, “and I’ll pay triple.”

Sasaki didn’t touch the card immediately. Instead, he glanced up, eyes sharp. “It’s dangerous to deal in ghosts.”

The businessman smiled. “Then it’s good that I don’t believe in them.”

---

Jessica barely had time to register the shift before it happened. She saw the movement. Not in front of her, but reflected in the screen behind Sasaki. A blur of cloth followed by the hush of a suppressed shot, sharper than silence. The air shifted. Blood spattered across the silk.

Sasaki’s body jerked violently, the force knocking the table sideways. The wooden box tumbled, the mask sliding free. The businessman lunged backward, his composed demeanor shattering in an instant.

The teahouse erupted into chaos.

Leanna was already moving, shoving Olivia low as she grabbed Jessica’s wrist. “We’re leaving.”

Jessica’s eyes flickered to the mask, now resting against the tatami mat, half in shadow.

The businessman was gone. A target, not a player. Whoever had pulled the trigger wasn’t after him. Which meant they were after something else entirely.

Jessica exhaled sharply, “Either he knew this was coming, or he knew to run.”

This wasn’t just an artifact hunt anymore. It was history rewritten in blood. Whatever these masks were, Jessica was starting to feel that they weren’t just looking for them. They were waking them up.