A cold wind blew through the quiet streets of Kirigakure as Ren approached the forge. The rhythmic sound of a chain cutting through the air broke the silence of the dawn.
In the backyard, Kurara performed a series of kata with her kusarigama. Her blade traced deadly arcs through the morning mist, each movement precise and deadly. This was not the same girl who had fought at the academy—here, in the privacy of the dawn, she displayed a mastery she had kept hidden.
"Do you want to finish what we started the other day?" she asked without pausing her movements.
Ren considered the challenge. His body was rested, his chakra at its peak. "Okay."
"No limits this time," Kurara smiled, her chain accelerating. "I want to see what's behind that impassive expression of yours."
The attack came like lightning. The kusarigama sliced through the air in a wide arc, forcing Ren to make a quick assessment. He dodged with calculated precision, every movement calculated to conserve energy.
Kurara was relentless. Her weapon created a deadly web of threats, the chain and blade moving in perfect sync. She wasn't just attacking—she was controlling the combat space itself, limiting Ren's movement options.
"There's something strange about the way you move," Kurara observed between attacks. "Your eyes follow the movements, while your body seems to lag…"
That's when she changed tactics. The distance between them began to methodically close, the kusarigama weaving in tighter and tighter patterns. It was a bold move—moving closer meant exposing herself to counterattack, but Kurara seemed to have noticed a weakness in Ren's rhythm.
The situation was becoming critical. Kurara was backing him into a corner, where his apparent slowness would be even more apparent. His options were rapidly dwindling.
The tension in the courtyard was palpable. Kurara had constructed a deadly trap of chains and blades, while Ren coldly calculated his increasingly limited options.
Ren began to feign fatigue, deliberately making his movements slower and more awkward. It was a calculated risk—to make Kurara think she had him in hand to hide his true condition.
The kusarigama hissed once more, tracing a perfect arc through the foggy air. The trap was set—Ren had been pushed into the corner of the courtyard, seemingly with no way out.
Instead of resisting, Ren deliberately moved toward the trap's narrowest point. Kurara's eyes narrowed in surprise—no one had ever willingly agreed to be trapped by her kusarigama.
With a sudden movement, Ren executed a twist that caught Kurara completely off guard. His body moved unexpectedly, slipping out of the web of chains that were supposed to immobilize him.
"How...?" Kurara muttered, forced to completely rethink her strategy. Her opponent was moving strangely, as if he knew secrets of movement that she couldn't understand.
A voice interrupted the duel.
"Interesting," Takeshi said, emerging from the workshop. His trained eyes had caught something in the fight that had caught his professional attention.
"Your swords are almost ready," he said to Ren. "Come inside. I have something to show you."
Takeshi's workshop was a furnace. The heat from the forge made the air thick and heavy, the smell of hot metal and charcoal permeating every corner.
"These," Takeshi said, revealing the two blades on the workbench, "are the nearly finished versions."
The swords lay dark and mighty on the worn metal of the bench. Their surfaces showed subtle patterns, almost invisible in the flickering light of the fire.
"The weight has been distributed evenly along the length," Takeshi explained, holding up one of the blades. "The density of the metal was progressively increased during the forging, layer by layer."
Kurara approached with professional interest. "The shape is unusual for a practice sword."
"The balance is different," her grandfather confirmed. "I had to modify the traditional structure to accommodate the extra weight without compromising the integrity of the blade."
He turned to the forge. "But there is still work to be done. Ren, come here. I want to show you how we complete the process."
For the next hour, Ren assisted Takeshi in the final forging. The old smith taught him how to keep the temperature constant, when to strike the metal and with what force, how to tell by color and sound if the blade was responding properly to the treatment.
"Do you see this section?" Takeshi pointed to a particular spot on the glowing blade. "The metal here must be worked with special care. Too hard a strike would create internal stresses that could compromise the integrity of the blade.
"Now," Takeshi said, placing the blade on the anvil, "start striking exactly where I indicate. Steady rhythm, moderate force."
Ren gripped the hammer, landing precise blows where the old blacksmith indicated. The metal responded to each impact with a clean, crystalline sound.
"Harder here," Takeshi instructed. "The metal resists - it has to be convinced."
Beads of sweat fell from Ren's forehead as he continued to hammer. The strain of the weights he carried made each strike a challenge of precision.
"Careful!" Takeshi suddenly exclaimed. "The metal is..."
The blade slid off the anvil, heading for Kurara's foot. Ren reacted instinctively - his hand shot out to grip the glowing hilt.
"Idiot!" Kurara yanked him back, as Takeshi quickly plunged the blade into the cooling vat. Steam filled the air with a high-pitched hiss.
"Let me see your hand," Kurara ordered, already pulling bandages from her pouch.
"It's nothing," Ren said, but let her examine the burn. It was superficial - she had released her grip quickly enough to avoid serious damage.
"Who grips a red-hot blade with their bare hands?" Kurara muttered as she applied ointment to the burn. "And don't say it's nothing - I saw the burn."
"Better a burned hand than a pierced foot," Takeshi commented, examining the blade in the vat. "But next time, use pliers."
After the blade had cooled, Takeshi examined it carefully. "No permanent damage. The structure has held up well to the thermal shock."
The rest of the day was spent hammering, making minute adjustments, and frequently dipping into the cooling vat. Takeshi was meticulous in his work, every detail checked and rechecked.
As the sun began to set, the swords were finally complete. They lay on the bench, the dark metal seeming to absorb the light of the dying forge.
"You can start using them tomorrow," Takeshi said, covering the blades with a cloth.
As Ren walked home that evening, his bandaged hand throbbing slightly, he thought back to the day.
'I need to be more careful,' he thought. 'A moment's distraction can be costly.'
When he got home, Ren locked himself in his room and began carefully removing the bandage Kurara had applied. The burn was more serious than he had admitted - the skin was red and swollen, with a few blisters forming.
'It really is no small thing,' he thought as he concentrated the healing chakra in his hands. The green light dimly illuminated the room as it worked to speed up the natural healing process.
The pain began to ease, but he knew it would take a few days before he was fully healed.