Chapter 18 – Buying a Blade & Sharing a Meal
The night streets of Konoha glowed amber beneath rows of paper lanterns. Fallen leaves lay caught in the cracks between the cobblestones, crunching softly under the boots of fur-clad passersby. From the eaves, a bronze wind chime swayed with a faint ding, startling a night moth perched atop a lantern. Its wings quivered, scattering a fine dust of blue phosphor that shimmered under the moonlight.
The weapon shop's bronze fang ornaments clinked together above the doorframe. When the pinewood door creaked open, the sound roused an old cat curled behind the counter. Twelve ebony racks fanned out from the center, their displays meticulously ordered—senbon needles piled like thorny brambles in celadon trays, poisoned projectiles glinting with an indigo hue inside glass cases. In the southeast corner, seven tachi rested on an ironwood stand, each unsheathed by three inches so their blades caught the light, silver frost condensed along their edges.
The three of them stepped into the bright shop. The steel's cold gleam reflected in Taichi's eager eyes. Kakashi had already drawn a scroll from his ninja pouch and unfurled it—the aged silk inscribed with the Hatake-ryū's principles for choosing a sword.
"The spine of the blade should be straight as a pine," Kakashi murmured.
His fingers brushed along the display before drawing out a plain short sword. Taichi accepted it, his wrist dipping under the weight. The red marks left by the hilt from earlier training had not yet faded, and now new ones joined them.
"Anything over three kan (about 1.5 Kg) will distort your swing," Kakashi explained, resting the sword horizontally across his palm. The tip and the pommel balanced perfectly over the web of his thumb. "The ideal center of balance is three inches ahead of the guard."
Guy leaned in, whistling at the intricate grain along the blade, then gave it a playful punch. The clear ringing note lingered in the air.
"My father says a blade forged with tamahagane sings like a mountain spring over quartz," Guy said with a grin.
Kakashi gestured for Taichi to infuse the blade with chakra. A faint azure glow traced along the edge—wind chakra flowing naturally into the steel. This was no ordinary weapon; the blade contained a small amount of chakra metal.
The shopkeeper brought out three similar swords. Kakashi tested each in turn with swift, precise swings. When the third blade sliced through the air, its wind-cutting note turned crisp and tight.
"This is the one."
Taichi's eyes lit up. The sword moved in his hands without strain—his shoulders and elbows dropped naturally, and the angle of the cut matched the scroll's illustration to perfection. Moonlight streamed through the window lattice, painting the guard's cloud patterns in silver. Kakashi's lips curved in quiet satisfaction; the weight and balance were identical to the first practice blade his father had once forged for him.
"Boss, how much for this one?" Taichi asked without hesitation.
"Special price—thirty thousand ryō," the shopkeeper said with a broad smile.
"Can you… maybe make it a little cheaper?" Taichi winced at the number. It wasn't long ago he'd been racking his brain for ways to make money.
"Sorry, young man. All our prices are fixed. We never bargain."
The firmness in the shopkeeper's tone made it clear: no room for haggling.
"Alright." Taichi didn't press further—arguing over the price felt like disrespecting the blade itself.
…
They emerged from the shop, Taichi grinning as he stroked the newly acquired sword. Slinging it across his back, he vowed to train in every stance as if the blade were always with him.
"Kakashi, Guy—come to my place for dinner tonight. I bought the ingredients this morning."
"Yes! It's been too long since I've tasted your cooking," Guy said, his eyes misty with emotion.
"We'll have to let our families know first," Kakashi replied.
"Go ahead. I'll start cooking so it's ready when you arrive."
With that, they scattered toward their homes.
…
At Taichi's home – Kitchen
Wearing a dark blue apron, Taichi busied himself at the stove. Miso soup bubbled gently in the iron pot, while steam from the bamboo steamer carried the sweet scent of taiyaki, painting the cramped kitchen in warm, golden light. On the cutting board lay neatly arranged teriyaki chicken thighs, marinated in a glaze of honey and sake he'd prepared earlier.
"Last dish…" Taichi muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow as he plated the tempura. Golden shrimp tails curved proudly from their batter, while slices of lotus root glistened amber with oil.
Right on cue, a knock sounded at the door, accompanied by Guy's booming voice even through the wood:
"Taichi! We're here!"
Opening the door, Taichi saw them—Kakashi leaning casually against the wall, moonlight frosting his silver hair, and Guy grinning as he sniffed the air, still dusty from training in his green jumpsuit.
"Pardon the intrusion!" they said in unison.
As they removed their shoes, Kakashi's short sword clinked softly against the stand, the sound crisp and clear in the warm evening air.
When the dishes filled the low table, Guy's eyes went wide as saucers. A five-tiered bento box overflowed with rice balls and tamagoyaki; grilled Pacific saury gleamed under a dusting of sansho pepper, its crispy skin still sizzling. Even the miso soup held carrot slices carved into delicate maple leaves. Beneath his mask, Kakashi's nose twitched faintly—after years of enduring his father's "experimental" cooking, this spread was nothing short of divine.
"I'm digging in!" Guy's chopsticks blurred in motion, snatching a piece of tempura shrimp that arced through the air. "Crispy coating and—hot! Hot! Hot!" He puffed his cheeks, fanning his mouth, but refused to spit it out. Kakashi, meanwhile, calmly scooped up a cube of tofu, only for his pupils to contract at the first taste—the umami of kelp and bonito broth surpassed even the signature soup from the famous Dango Shop.
Taichi chuckled, pouring barley tea for the two of them as steam softened the ninja prints on the wall. When Kakashi reached for his third teriyaki chicken leg, his usually composed face froze. Mouth full of rice ball, Guy mumbled, "Relax, Kakashi, nobody's stealing it from you."
A faint blush touched the silver-haired boy's ears. His fingers lingered at the edge of his mask, hesitating—then the black cloth slid down. Moonlight caught the glint of sauce at the corner of his lips, and for a beat, both Taichi and Guy were stunned. Who would have thought this aloof prodigy could look so much like a chipmunk when eating?
"The sword lesson today…" Taichi broke the pause, placing the fish tail into Kakashi's bowl. "It made me realize how important a good teacher is. You can't master kenjutsu on self-study alone."
"Thanks again for today."
Guy suddenly set down his chopsticks, pressing his palms together in thanks. "And thank you for the chakra control tips! Remember last time you said, 'A taijutsu specialist needs precise chakra allocation'? Now I can break rocks without wrecking my ankles!"
The insect chorus outside grew louder. Kakashi's fingers whitened around his teacup before he finally murmured, "I should be the one thanking you." His gaze flicked to the new blade at Taichi's back. "I've been wanting a partner to train swordsmanship with."
Moonlight spilled across the low table, casting the three boys' shadows together on the wall. By the time Guy slurped his fifth bowl of miso soup, Taichi and Kakashi were already leaning back, rubbing full stomachs.
"I'm stuffed—can't eat another bite!"
When they parted ways, the street was dusted in starlight. Kakashi pulled his mask back up to his nose, then turned to say, "Training continues tomorrow." In the moonlight, Guy struck a dramatic pose. "Tomorrow—twenty laps around the Forest of Death! Taichi, wanna bet on who finishes first?"
The door shut behind them, and Taichi leaned against his newly bought ninjatō, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. The lingering warmth of the hilt brought back the feel of Kakashi's hands over his during the grip demonstration, and the stinging palm-clash when Guy had tested the blade. The kitchen still carried the ghost of bonito broth, and on the table, three empty bowls sat side by side, gleaming under the moon—a silent pact among them.
With the guests gone, Taichi glanced at the time. It was already late. Tonight, he'd stick to basic taijutsu and meditation practice at home.
Name: Taichi Matsushita
Profession: Ninja Apprentice Lv6 (926/1000)
Talents: Diligence Makes Up for Lack of Talent, Scholar
Age: 6
Constitution: 13
Strength: 15
Agility: 13
Spirit: 20
Chakra: 3100 (5350)
Attribute Points: 9
Skill Points: 9
Elemental Changes: Fire Lv2 (66/200), Wind Lv2 (36/200), Yang Lv2 (18/200)
Skills: Basic Taijutsu Lv8 (1213/1400), Basic Meditation Lv8 (1212/1400), Chakra Refinement Lv8 (1253/1400), Ninja Tools Throwing Lv7 (687/1200), Transformation Lv6 (515/1000), Clone Technique Lv7 (537/1200), Substitution Lv6 (853/1000), Fire Style: Flame Bullet Lv6 (353/1000), Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Lv6 (935/1000), Wind Style: Great Breakthrough Lv6 (712/1000), Healing Technique Lv6 (923/1000), Hatake Kenjutsu Lv1 (32/100)
Evaluation: Learning swordsmanship has covered one of your weaknesses—but you're still cannon fodder among genin.
Seeing the numbers on his status panel shift stirred a fierce motivation in Taichi's chest. Training was addictive—he understood that now. He kept at it until the early hours of morning before finally washing up and crawling into bed.
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