Himejima no Suzaku has never considered herself an impatient woman. She knows that some people invariably view her this way, but she knows that this is a misunderstanding of her nature.
She is not an impatient woman, she is an expectant one. By which she means that she sets expectations for how her day will go, and dislikes it when these expectations are ignored or interrupted.
This is not to say that she is anal about details like the Mido Kampaku, Michinaga is. Her expectations are not precise things, she does not count every minute or weigh every interaction.
Rather, she sets aside time for duty, and she sets aside time for rest or for socialisation. Any number of things, she simply prefers to allocate her time to a specific intention.
So, when Suzaku decided to allocate her morning hours to visiting the Swordsmith known as Munechika—not necessarily the greatest Swordsmith, but certainly the most pious, which she naturally approves of—so as to inform him of his duty to forge Narauko-sama a sword, she naturally found herself rather displeased to have this duty interrupted.
Unfortunately, Dōman no Genbu just so happens to be one of five human beings that she can not simply ignore.
It is not as if she dislikes the man—though she is hardly fond of him either, he is far too stubborn for her to like him—she just doesn't like her schedule being contradicted.
Well, maybe she likes him a little bit. If he were in her clan, she would surely have doted on him as a brother. Unfortunately, he is not, so this is irrelevant.
Either way, by the time he finally arrives, guided into her office by her most trusted cousin, she is already in a poor mood from the interruption.
She doesn't find her mood improving in the conversation that follows.
"Pardon?" She asks, staring at the silver-haired, well-built young man opposite her.
He raises an unimpressed brow right back at her, and she internally sighs at the expression.
As quick to judge others as always, she bemoans to herself. He has a bad habit of expecting all he speaks with to both understand and align themselves with whatever he says. As if the entire world should agree with every thought he has.
It can be exhausting to deal with sometimes, but she has never hated him for it. It is just the way he is, there is never any malice in his actions. He is simply peculiar.
"How quickly can your clan mobilise in and around the capital?" He repeats, displaying his other peculiarity, in that he is an incredibly blunt person.
The Dōman clan have had to train up a diplomat who's purpose is specifically to follow this Genbu around whenever he interacts with anyone outside of their clans. She recalls a distant cousin complaining to her about it over some drinks.
Were it anyone else, she would have been incensed at the rudeness, but, again, this is Genbu. She knows him well enough to know that he simply somehow does not understand why it is rude to be so blunt.
"Genbu-kun, start from the beginning," she gently chides, not that he seems to notice. "My clan is not something so petty as to be entirely mobilised without good reason, and you have yet to give me one."
Genbu nods, seemingly conceding the point without complaint and not batting an eye at the suffix, where -dono would be more appropriate.
"Okay. My clan have discovered what we believe to be traces of the Traitor recently being within the capital." Suzaku's eyes widen as a sharp lance of negativity cuts through her, enough that her Cursed Energy spikes and lights her hair on fire. Genbu continues to talk as if nothing at all is amiss. "Additionally, we have noticed odd movements among the Yōkai and believe that there may be a ploy at hand."
Suzaku's clan is no lesser than Genbu's, so she knows what he means about the Yōkai. She receives the same reports as he does on the matter. It is just difficult for her to care about such things when the predating issue is that of the Traitor.
Oh how she despises that man. She almost shivers in disgust at the mere thought of the traitorous wretch. She knows that her feelings are not unique.
In some strange twist of irony, Genbu might actually be the only man among their Five Clans that does not feel such revulsion at the Traitor. Genbu only views the wretch's capture as a matter of duty. Something to be done because it should be done, not out of any emotional guidance, in spite of the fact that the Traitor is of his blood in the first place.
Suzaku is not so forgiving.
He was supposed to be the best of them.
Born with their most venerated Inherited Technique that has only been seen once before; he should have been the greatest of them.
Yōkai Manipulation.
The counterpart to a certain Jujutsu Sorcerer; a Technique that ensnares the will of any being of Yōkai blood that perceives its user.
A perfect Technique, with enough potential to theoretically banish all Yōkai from the Human Realm entirely.
His existence was a Divine Miracle, a clear message of the Ōkami's support.
Suzaku, like many young woman at the time, even used to dream of marrying him. He was certainly not lacking in prospects, and it was mostly understood that he would take a wife from each Principle Clan in order to reaffirm their unity.
But then he committed the greatest sin possible by cavorting with those monstrous abominations. He abandoned his clan, abandoned his duty, and he left an ocean of corpses in his wake as he did so. He even went so far as to kill his own direct family, down to the last.
He betrayed not only their Divine purpose, but his own honour, his own vows.
He betrayed her.
Not once, in all of their long history, has there ever been a betrayal of such magnitude, and so for the most dishonourable Dōman to ever live, all that is left is distain. He does not even have the right to his own name any longer, for a Traitor is all that is left.
But no matter how they searched for him over the years, he has always managed to slip away.
Yet now, Genbu means to say that he is in the capital?
"I can have my clan mobilised by the end of the day," she begins, speaking resolutely, before recalling another fact of what can only be Divine Providence. "We should change our strategy however. With the advent of the Black Butterfly Technique, by virtue of Narauko-sama, we can afford a more effective strategy. We split our forces into pairs or trios, one to guard and one ready to activate a Black Butterfly. Spread our net as wide as possible, and keep our strongest as a strike force, ready to react to the first sightings of the Traitor."
Genbu nods his head. "Okay. He made it out of our last encirclement by quietly killing his way through a gap, so this seems a more efficient plan. Are you ready to depart immediately?"
Suzaku would love to have said yes, but she cannot, so she shakes her head instead.
"I have been given a duty by Inari-sama. I should be done by the afternoon however."
He nods again, and she knows that the only thing stopping a lecture her way is that Inari-sama is the cause. Else, he certainly would have scolded her, despite having no right to do so.
"Very well," he says, before simply pushing himself back to his feet and giving her one final nod. "Goodbye."
Then he leaves. No bow, no polite farewell or any such thing. She can only sigh and share a commiserating look with Genbu's minder as he turns to follow the man.
Suzaku does not linger. Feeling properly motivated now, she makes haste to meet with this Swordsmith, Munechika. She had been waiting for Narauko to return from wherever he has disappeared to this morning, so that she could introduce them together.
Now, however, she will simply speak with Munechika alone first, so that he may begin his preparations, and then she can introduce them afterwards, as Inari-sama instructed her to do.
Neither duty will take long or bring her out of the capital anyway, so she can do both whilst also being prepared to chase the Traitor. Which is nice, because if she had to pick one duty or the other, then she would have struggled.
Then, with some luck, she might just be able to deliver some long overdue justice.
Assuming that the Traitor is still in the capital, of course.
///
Izumi Shikibu
///
The warm, early morning sun bathes the pristine corridor in soft light. It shines through the paper windows on Izumi Shikibu's right, as walks at a steady clip. Head straight and arms folded neatly before her.
The soft, harmonic whisper of a hummed tune follows her as she goes. The only thing that separates this walk from her usual morning duties, is a slight difference in the tune she is humming. It is brighter, sharper than usual.
She can't help that much. It is simply a result of her mood, and how could she not be in a grand mood after the showing that cute little Narauko-kun put on the other day~?
It truly was something to watch. The level of power he displayed so clearly; his title is well earned.
The best part however, was not the display of power. It was his decision to simply leave the moment he got bored.
It reminded Izumi so much of Murasaki that it was both painful and wonderful to watch.
Some more amusement wells up within her at the knowledge that the man of such interest is nowhere to be found, having disappeared off to see his father apparently. According to Fujiwara no Nariko anyway, who answered the door when she knocked on his.
Very amusing indeed.
She thinks that what makes it all so amusing is that Narauko likely has not half a clue as to the effects of his actions. Not here, in the capital, where the rules are different and rarely ever explained.
It is akin to all the court playing Go, and Narauko trying to join in while playing by the rules of the Bansugoroku dice game, yet still somehow thinking that he is playing Go.
It is very entertaining.
Even if it does make things a little bit difficult for her. Because now she has—
Izumi's flesh abruptly breaks out into goosebumps, and without even a thought, she spins around, her voice rising in pitch to use her Technique as instinct alone fills her with a feeling of dread more intense than anything she's felt before, yet somehow familiar?
"Stop."
She stops.
Her body slams into nothing at all. Freezing in place so abruptly that it feels like she ran into a wall, only she can't bounce back at all.
A deep, primal kind of fear suffuses her skin. An instinctual understanding; prey to a predator.
"Look at my eyes."
Izumi does not even have the time to think before she is obeying the scratchy voice. Her eyes move without direction, taking in the sight of the cloaked figure before her, entirely concealed except for two glowing, crimson eyes, slit like a snake's.
Almost immediately, Izumi's muscles fall slack. Her eyes dull and her Cursed Energy flattens out, a storm becoming a tranquil lake. Her thoughts follow, slowing and drifting without direction. Her thoughts do not halt, so much as they never seem able to reach their destination.
The cloaked figure nods at this, but his window of opportunity is slim, so he does not dither.
"Tell me all you know of Narauko," he commands, and Izumi obeys.
Her voice holds none of the enchantment that she is secretly oh so proud of. It comes out dull and toneless, and with that voice, she tells him everything she knows.
He listens without comment, only reacting briefly at the mention of Narauko's ancestry, as if it offends him to hear.
"Good," he says only once Izumi finishes speaking. "Now forget this encounter."
Izumi blinks and looks down the empty hall curiously, as if looking for something.
"Did I imagine it?" She mutters to herself, but the thought doesn't feel significant to her, so she merely shrugs it away and turns back around to continue her duties.
With that brief distraction over, Izumi's train of thought returns, and an amused sigh leaves her because of it, only because there is no one around to see such emotiveness.
Because now she has to explain to people of significantly higher station than herself why she has failed to speak with Narauko as she was bid to do.
She can only be thankful that Shōshi-sama values her too much to truly punish her. The former Empress understands well enough the foolishness of alienating those already devoted to her.
That certainty, however, still does not stop Izumi from shrinking in on herself slightly and feeling as if a child again when she finally does arrive, only to wilt under Shōshi-sama's suspicious glare and accusation of being late.
It is unfortunate, because Izumi has a feeling that Shōshi-sama did not believe her that she was not late on purpose. She is almost certain that her Lady believes that she snuck out for a quick romp instead, it's not like she hasn't done so before.
But she really is innocent this time!
Alas, her Lady's suspicious eyes do not abate. It's not like Izumi wouldn't admit to sneaking in a quick bout of fun, and honestly, it's a little bit hurtful that her Lady doesn't believe her.
Ah well. It's her own fault for having so many dalliances in the first place.
///
Narauko
///
By the time midday rolls around, I'm in a much better mood, just meandering through the streets with Nagiko, trying out various vendor foods and exploring nooks and crannies.
Nagiko's detective eyes helped out on that front. We even found a small bird with a broken wing that was huddled away in a crack in someone's wall, so that was a fun twenty minutes after I healed it.
Apparently it's called an uguisu, on account of the song it makes. At least, according to the old lady that saw us—well, mostly me really—playing with the little guy. Apparently she used to have a big garden that attracted a lot of the cuties back before her husband passed and she moved to be with family here.
Apparently she has a granddaughter around my age who 'would make for a warm mistress'. I'm not really interested in that, but on the other hand, I totally am interested in having dinner with this old lady's family and learning about them all.
However, it is as I am debating whether or not the risk of being propositioned is worth the benefit of story time with granny, that I notice a familiar presence approaching.
Turning from the granny, mine eyes alight upon none other than Himejima no Suzaku herself.
I feel Nagiko's eyes on the back of my head and I do not have to look to know that she is laughing at me.
Seriously, why does this woman seem to think I'm a Kami? What part of me is anything like Inari-sama?
Like, sure, in the future I'll probably reach that same level of strength, but still. I'm quite enjoying my time as a human right now, there's no need to rush and miss out on these precious experiences.
Whatever the case may be, I don't let my thoughts show and instead just send her a two-fingered wave.
"Hey, Suzaku-chan. What brings you out here?"
Suzaku smiles a little at the greeting but quickly wipes the expression away and bows rather formally, first to me and then to Nagiko before hesitating briefly and bowing to the old lady too.
"Narauko-sama, Kiyohara-dono, Elder-dono." Done with the greetings, she returns her full attention to me as she continues, "Inari-sama has instructed that I introduce you to Sanjō Munechika, so that you may assist him in forging yourself a sword to practice with until Ame-no-Ohabari allows you to wield him."
"Really!? Awesome!" Who doesn't want a cool sword? I even apparently get to be a part of the process too! Besides, I was trying to get one the other day anyway, so this is perfect. I certainly don't feel like getting melted by Ame-no-Ohabari...
Okay actually, I still really really really want to draw the Kami anyway. This will serve as a good distraction from that at least.
With that in mind, I turn back to the old lady, only to see her staring at me with wide-eyes and her jaw dropped open.
I get it. I felt the same when I first got close to interacting with a bona-fide Kami, so I don't tease her about the expression, even though I definitely want to.
"Sorry, Ouba," I give a properly apologetic bow, "It seems that I am to be occupied. Perhaps another time?"
"A-ah, yes. Another time, perhaps," she responds, catching herself and bowing properly to everyone present. I'm a little disheartened to see that she doesn't seem to believe me genuine in my 'another time'.
Naturally, I won't let that stand. I was just starting to get the tea on this family's internal drama, I'm not just going to give that up. It's prime time television here!
"Oh hey, Ouba, here." As I speak, I reach up to one of my ears and detach the kifuda there. From there, I quickly thread some string through it with one hand while the other lifts her hand up.
Without letting anyone speak up to question it, I wrap the string around her wrist and tie it off, leaving the kifuda hanging there. Then, I clasp her hand in both of mine and meet her eyes with a proper smile.
"Now, I most certainly will not forget."
The lady looks a mix between stunned and awed as she cradles the talisman gently, and then she is bowing again, deeper this time.
"I am honoured," she begins, but I wave her off.
"It's fine~, it's fine~. I'll come visit you sometime, if that is okay?"
"Of course! We would be glad to host you."
"Cool! See ya later then," I finish with a wave before turning away and leaving with Nagiko and Suzaku.
The latter of whom soon breaks the brief silence.
"Please forgive This One for asking, Narauko-sama, but who was that woman? She must mean much to you?"
"Huh? No, I don't know, we just met." She blinks, nonplussed, so I just shrug and smile. "My father made these kifuda for me you know?" I brush the one on my remaining ear, "They mean a lot to me. So it seemed like an easy way to make sure she knew I wasn't brushing her off."
Besides, I doubt the old man would mind.
"I see," Suzaku murmurs, blatantly not 'seeing' at all.
There isn't much in the way of conversation on the way, and we arrive soon enough.
Unlike Kanta's shop, where I met Yoshikane, the place we end up is more of a small walled-in compound of three buildings. One is clearly a home, another the forge, but I'm not sure about the last. There is also a small shrine off to the side which seems well cared for.
A man is standing in the courtyard to greet us, and he does so with a low bow.
"Sanjō Munechika greets the honourable Narauko-sama, Himejima-sama, Hime-sama."
Why am I being greeted first? Has Suzaku been telling him strange things?
"Munechika-dono," Suzaku returns the greeting without bowing. "Are you prepared to begin?"
"Yes, Himejima-sama, I am."
"Wait wait," I quickly interrupt, "Isn't forging a sword supposed to be something that takes months?"
"In its entirety, yes," Munechika answers, his tone remaining deferential. "However, we will only be making the blade, and with what I have been told of your strength as a factor, a day should be plenty."
"Huh. Alright then, how do we begin?" Confident now that this won't leave me busy for months, my excitement returns and is probably rather blatant to see from the way Nagiko smirks at me. I'd ask if she wanted to leave if not for the fact that she also seems nearly as excited as I.
But apparently, we begin by having a bath.
I did not expect this, but supposedly it's about the ritual, and I do feel something in that nebulous sense of having started a process. It feels like the weight of a Binding Vow, just wa~ay lighter. But it's a comparable 'flavour'.
Either way, Munechika and I bathe, and then he has me dress in these white robes almost identical to the priestly garb my old man likes to wear. Leadingly, we then stopped by the shrine to pray.
From there, we surround the anvil in front of his forge with shimenawa ropes with gohei, which are sticks with zigzag paper streamers hanging from them, and the moment that the last once is planted into the ground, I feel the air well up with Positive Energy.
"You're a Sorcerer?" I ask, turning to Munechika in surprise, but he just chuckles and shakes his head.
"No, I am not," he says it as if it is a laughable concept. "I simply ask the kami for assistance, and they are generous enough to answer. Now, how much do you know about forging a sword?"
"You hit the metal with a hammer when it is hot until it looks like a sword," is my immediate answer, and by his expression, you'd think it caused him psychic damage.
"From the beginning then," he says after a moment, which I find rather diplomatic of him.
I eagerly lean forward, and Munechika does not disappoint as he begins to teach me how a sword is forged.
"First, we must light the forge. To do so, you will strike this." He pulls out a small iron rod half wrapped in cloth and shows it off to me before gesturing me to a thin, two-handed hammer.
"The iron will heat as it is struck," he informs me upon seeing my expression, and with his words, understanding dawns.
It's just basic thermodynamics. Kinetic energy into thermal. Like how those barbeque lighters have an internal spring that strikes a bit of quartz in order to generate the initial charge that lights it. Because apparently quarts just naturally turns kinetic energy into electric for some reason.
I've just never thought of hitting metal as a way to start a fire before.
So with that revelation out of the way, I grab the indicated hammer and return to the anvil, where he is holding the rod with its tip ready to be hit.
With no more instructions incoming, I lift up the hammer and start hitting the iron with what I feel is a reasonable amount of force. Munechika doesn't complain, so I don't stop, and in an honestly surprisingly short amount of time, the iron starts briefly shining red as I pull the hammerhead away.
It is then that Munechika pulls a small, tied together clump of straw out and presses it against the iron until it lights.
Without a word, he then moves to the forge, puts the fire under the charcoal and then moves to sit beside it, next to a manual billow and starts pumping to grow the fire.
"The first step in creating a sword," Munechika begins as he waits for the flame to grow, "Is to smelt iron sand into tamahagane. This process usually takes several days, however I already have several ready to be used. Go and select one."
Following his direction, I move to where there is a small basket full of clumps of metal and pick one up to inspect.
...It's just some metal, I have no idea what I'm looking at beyond that. Though, it does seem kinda small.
"It does not take much metal to become a sword," Munechika says, clearly noticing my stare. "I was surprised the first time as well. I find it... thoughtful, that it only takes such a small amount of iron to create a deadly weapon."
I almost laugh at that. I remember having the exact same thought about how it only takes six psi of pressure to pull a trigger and end a life with a gun.
I still struggle to accept that a literally handful of metal is enough to become an entire sword, but I'm not the professional here, so I take his word for it and return the rock. Then I rummage a bit and pick up a new one that I like the look of better.
It is only then that we finally get to the bits I understand and chuck the metal into the forge until it turns red. after which Munechika pulls it out with a pair of tongs and holds it over the anvil.
"Quick, strike it."
I do. The metal dents a little, and then I hit it again. And again.
And again.
I can admit, a lot of the wonder fades away after the hundredth time hammering the same chunk of metal until Munechika deemed it the ideal thickness. It's still a cool experience though, and I'm definitely enjoying myself.
Nagiko seems to be enjoying watching too, so there's that as well.
"Now that it is an ideal thickness, we must harden it," Munechika says as he pulls the metal back out of the fire and quickly quenches it into a pail of water. "Next, we break it."
I blink at that, but shrug and do as bid. He lays the metal over the edge of the anvil and directs me to break it off in chunks, which I do.
"A tachi must be soft on the inside and hard on the outside," he informs me as he collects the broken pieces on a big metal spoon-like thing in a pile, which he then covers in an ash mixture and returns to the forge, getting me to cover it with more charcoal as he pumps the billow.
It's only then that we begin the part that I actually knew about, the folding! It's not as dramatic as I remember being told it is.
Just a simple process, hammer a thin line into the middle of the freshly welded together chunk of metal, and then hammer it as Munechika uses a ladle to throw water at it, which I'm fairly sure is making a vacuum explosion, so that's cool.
Then it is hammered over the anvil at the line bored into it and folded, ready to be hammered again.
...And then another nineteen times, apparently.
I also feel the Positive Energy in the air stirring with every vacuum explosion, but it's too subtle for me to really tell what it's doing, if anything at all.
Eventually, we're left with what basically just looks like a small one of those pizza flipper things Italian restaurants use in their big stone ovens. Just metal and red hot and not nearly as big.
And then we do it all over again with even more folds to get the inner part done.
Only then is it time to combine the two, and by then I'm half tempted to just grab the outer bit and bend it with my hands, because I'm pretty sure that's something I can do. But I want to experience the entire process, so I don't. Even if it has gotten a bit boring.
Hammer hammer hammer we go, bending the outer part into a 'U' shape and then slotting the inner part inside.
That combination is once more covered in that same ash mixture and buried in charcoal until it fuses together.
Finally, this is the chunk that we actually start hammering into the shape of a sword, finishing the whole process off.
Except that it is not, because then Munechika goes about painting the blade with a clay mixture, lightly on the edge and heavier on the spine to control which part gets more heating. This is apparently the part that makes that wave pattern, the hamon, which is kind of illusion breaking for me.
I just kinda thought katana and the like did that by themselves.
Once he's done that however, back into the forge it goes, and Munechika stares straight into the fire the entire time. Apparently it's really important to get the right temperature here, and he judges that by sight.
Kinda cool honestly.
But then the coolest part happens as he pulls the sword out and plunges it into a trough of clear water and I get to watch in real time as the straight sword bends into that signature curve. I don't know the physics of how that happens. Something something tension, probably.
From there, it's just a matter of tempering, which is apparently just low heat, light hammering to reduce stresses and reduce tension. Followed by a long line of increasingly fine waterstones to actually finish things off.
And then, finally, with the sun long since set, I am beheld a gleaming piece of steel, shining like a mirror and all the more beautiful for how I witnessed its creation.
Even if it isn't anything close to Takiyasha's sword in terms of strength or quality—it's not a Cursed Tool after all, but it is mine, and that is enough for me to adore it.
"It will take perhaps a month or so for a proper handle and sheathe to be made for the sword to be truly complete."
"Oh..."
Way to burst my bubble, man.
///
A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
I am mad. Do you have any idea how much time I spent looking into how a sword would be made, not just japanese style but heian period japanese style, where there are basically no clear records? And for what?
Imma be totally real with you. Going into this, I was planning to do a thing where Narauko asked how hard he should hit the metal, and was told 'as hard as you can' and then proceeds to break the hammer he was swinging with.
The plan from there was for Munechika's craftsman's passion to awaken, and he was gonna grab more metal to make an extra dense sword and Narauko was going to make a hammer out of shadows so it didn't break, and he was gonna extend his shadow over he entire courtyard and partially manifest Reflective Tortoise's shell in order to protect the surroundings from him swinging a hammer full tilt.
I had this whole thought of him compressing like 6 swords worth of metal into a single sword, thus making one that is super heavy and cool.
However, it turns out that this is not how physics works, which I only discovered at the point of "Quick, strike this."
Apparently, not a single part of forging involves actually making the steel more dense, because that isn't something you can do without pressure only seen in the core of a fuking planet. And also, apparently folding the steel more than a few dozen times is actually actively detrimental.
I am upset by this, and you probably noticed a dip in quality as I pouted my way through the rest of the chapter.
Now I'm just posting this even tho I'm unhappy with it cuz I've already spent waaay to long figuring this chapter out. :<
At least, my patrons convinced me not to scrap the chapter, and I agree cuz it's actually prolly a good thing to see Narauko getting disappointed by mortal ability. Plus, he can always just make a cooler, less physically realistic sword at a later date. I have some tentative plans for how I can explain that working satisfactorily