"HEY BRAT!" A man booms as he bursts through the door.
"Gramps." I greet without looking away from the blade I am hammering.
"I'm here to see if you're keeping up with your training!" The man with steadily greying hair laughs.
"Alright." I mutter. "Can you give me a second? I just need to quench this or it's ruined."
"Oh... right... right..." The old man mutters before shuffling awkwardly.
I'm really lucky
Flames lick along the blade as I dunk it in oil. It remains there for a short time before I pull it out and offer it to Mr. Shimotsuki.
He takes the handle-less blade in a pair of tongs and looks over it. "Hn. The blade's warped... and the tip's chipped. Better than last time, though. It's almost at what I'd call a sword. A cheap one, though."
I nod slowly, accepting the criticism as I walk over to my grandfather. "Alright! What do you want me to do?"
He raises a fist. "DODGE MY- eh?"
By the time the word 'dodge had left his lips I had blurred past him, running as fast as my feet can carry me.
"BWAHAHAHA! AS I WAS SAYING! DODGE. MY. FIST. OF-" the hairs on the back of my neck raise, a feeling of doom fills my body. "LOVE!"
I duck.
Air swishes overhead as I can hear Garp let out a quiet 'Hah?'
I cross my arms in front of my body as I can feel something else coming.
"Kick of love!"
A tremendous weight slams into me, launching me off my feet, I land roughly in the grass outside my teacher's front yard, my arms throb, wind is knocked out of my lungs.
I roll slightly as I begin to slow, managing to stop on my hands and knees. I quickly stand- only to nearly fall back down as my knee wobbles. My breath comes out in sharp pained pants as I take one sluggish step before starting to run again.
"BWAHAHAHAH!" The old man cackles as he chases after me.
[Split]
After what feels like an hour of running, the marine hero lets out a small yawn. "Alright. Alright brat. I'm done. You've gotten a bit stronger... a little more stamina as well. Better showing than the other two brats."
"Two?" I echo quietly.
He seems to blink down at me for a moment. "Oh! Right. You haven't met Ace yet. Bah maybe next time."
"Don't slack off brat or I'll drag you to train with the others! If for a second I think either of them can beat you, you're in for some training!"
"And by training I mean a beating!"
"You're not supposed to say the quiet part out loud, granddad." I deadpan.
"HAH!" He laughs only to let out a long sigh. "Anyways. Can't stay long. I just dropped by for a second to check up on your progress. I've been told some upstart is starting shit in the grand line so Sengoku's been on my ass about crushing them."
"Saaaay, Shota my boy, you said you could improve cannonballs... right?" There's a small glint in his eye.
"I... can?" I nod once. "If you get me two I can fuse them together."
Two large metal spheres thud to the ground at my feet. "Do those, please."
"W-" I blink owlishly, eyes flicking from the old man to the two cannonballs. "Were you holding onto those the entire time?!"
"That's not important." The old man shakes his head. "Can you make it better?"
I reach down and with a small grunt I lift one of the cannonballs with both hands. I almost drop it into the other before I carefully lower it down.
'holy shit- these are explosive?! Why do they explode?! Why the hell did he DROP these if they could blow up?!'
*Hnnng* I grunt as the spheres glow brightly and fade into a single ball.
Wheezes leave my lips as my already exhausted body is even more tired out. "There- *Hah* You go. One cannonball... twice as heavy. Twice as explosive. Twice as durable. But I kept the size the same because I imagine you like the hand-feel of this size better."
"Damn straight!" He reaches down and picks up the cannonball with one hand, he gives it a few tosses, catching it in his hand as his smile grows.
He reaches down and ruffles my hair. "Thanks for the ball, Shota!"
His expression seems to soften. "I'll use it well."
I blink up in shock at the sudden warmth that radiates from the man. But... thinking about it, me making him a more powerful cannonball is probably akin to a normal child making macaroni art for their parent.
I wonder if when he gets back to his ship he's going to be all 'My grandson made this!'
"Now. Can you manage to get back to old man Shimotsuki's by yourself before it gets dark?" He grins.
"Uh... which way is it?" I ask slowly.
He points over his shoulder.
"Yeah. I should be able to manage it." I nod twice before slowly stepping around the man. "Good training, Gramps. I'm probably going to struggle to get out of bed in the morning."
"THAT JUST MEANS THE TRAINING'S WORKING BWHAHAHAHA!" He exclaims as he suddenly... disappears...
Soru.
I've got to learn that at some point.
[Split]
The Redhawk sloshes in the waves as a girl sits in the crows nest, a pout on her lips as she brings her legs up to her chest.
"Aww, what's wrong my little Diva?"
"I didn't see Shota the entire time we were at Foosha Village." She sighs. "I just don't understand where he went!"
"Hm... I spoke to Makino for a bit and she said that his grandfather took him to follow his dream... he wanted to be a blacksmith so he's away training with one. Roo was pretty disappointed too." He glances away, grumbling under his breath. "That traitor. Getting my crew poached by some east blue kid."
"H-He didn't even get to say goodbye..." The girl whispers.
"Yeah," The man agrees, frowning as he can see his attempt at raising her mood didn't work. A brief silence falls between them. "But that could be a good thing, you know? Now it means you'll surely meet again in the future... right?"
"You... you think so?" Uta asks quietly.
"Well... He did say that if his grandpa punched him in the face for asking to be a blacksmith he'd track me down and punch me in the face... and, well, he didn't tell me if he did get punched or not... so reasonably he could probably hunt us down in the future just to slug me a good one."
"But hey, maybe you made a new friend this time as well, right?" The man smiles.
"What does it matter... we're not going to Foosha village for a long time..." The girl sighs. "Besides. I REALLY don't like that boy!"
"Didn't you say that about both Luffy and Shota?"
"This is DIFFERENT! Luffy and Shota are just- just KIDS! I don't like Ace. He's rude. He's a brute. And he thinks he's so good just because he has a big pole he likes to swing around!"
Shanks blinks twice and shakes his head. "Well, he's about the same age as you."
"And how would YOU know that!" The girl leaps up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.
"Hm?" He hums.
"I'm ONTO you, Shanks! You know that boy! He- He's your SON, isn't he?!"
"Hah? No he's not." The redhaired man blinks. "He looks nothing like me."
"W-Buh- Ah?!" The girl sputters. "But- But- you looked at him! You were haunted, Shanks! Absolutely haunted! I've never seen you so much as look even a little sad except when I'm mad at you! ME! Your daughter! Thus, he's your son because he made you sad!"
"He's... not my son, Uta." The man sighs. "But he's the son of someone who was important to me."
"HIS MOTHER!" The girl accuses.
"Father, actually." The man ruffles her two-tone hair. "But. Less on that. I've figured out our next stop. You still want to go to all of the beautiful places in this world, Uta?"
"Yeah..." The girl eventually sniffles.
"Then we're going to a place like no other! Next stop Fishman Island!"
That boy's father, huh?
She wasn't aware Shanks liked men like that.
[Split]
"Decent." The old man in front of me mutters. "Passable."
It has been about... maybe a year and a half since I started working under Mr. Shimotsuki. I've noticed him growing more and more unwell as the months pass. He used to join me in the forge, but now he grows out of breath finishing one sword, let alone the four or five he managed to do before.
I'm... kind of worried for him, honestly.
But, according to him, he used to be able to beat out ten blades in a day and ten blades in a night then still get enough sleep to do it again the next day.
"We're going to do something a little different today, boy." The old man begins.
"Yes?" I echo.
"You're going to use your fruit to enhance that sword. Think of anything. You can possibly do to enhance it... then bring it back and show me."
"Oh? Alright!" I grin. "Uh... do you have do you have any glass that you wouldn't mind me breaking?"
The old man stands with a slight shake to his leg, he leaves the forge, returning with a simple plate. He hands it to me.
I look to my incomplete blade then to the glass plate then slowly nod, cracking the plate on the floor.
"Glass... can be one hundred times sharper than the average sword... so if I take these broken pieces... and I add it to this sword..."
There's a bright glow as I feel an immense exhaustion enter my body. The blade has lightened in color. The metal slightly glossy now, like it was encased in some sort of resin.
I offer the sword to the man, a low hum leaving his lips as he allows the edge to face the ceiling, grabs a blade of grass, then drops it.
The grass drifts down slowly before meeting the edge and completely cutting in two.
"Oh my... this is quite sharp..." The man mutters. "The edge of glass... yet the durability of steel... I can see why you were so adamant about becoming a bladesmith... this sort of edge is something you would commonly see within a grade blade. Perhaps even sharp enough to call it a 'Cursed Blade'.
"But." He continues. "Even supreme grades dull with use... this sharpness is merely temporary. A person tending to this blade... sharpening it... polishing it... they will never return it to this sharpness. No matter how much they possibly try. A temporary Grade Blade... but that is no less unimpressive... a frightening power you have your hands on."
"Thank you, Shimotsuki-Sensei." I bow my head slightly, shoulders shaking from exhaustion. "What do I need to do now?"
"Well, since we have verified your fruit is beneficial to blades, we can move that aside for a moment... you need practice more than anything. Finish ten blades equal to the quality of this one before you modified it." The old man notes. "But. First... rest. I can tell that you are exhausted. I bet you could barely hold a hammer like you are now, let alone forge another sword."
"Yes." I nod once.
[Split]
My eyes snap open as I sit up.
"I'm a woman... if I was born a boy, perhaps I could follow my dreams... but... I am not that lucky."
"It's my fault!"
"Kuina! Why did you do it?! I failed as a grandfather!"
There's a flash of crimson.
I quickly hop out of bed, blearily looking around. A groan leaves my lips as I grab a piece of paper then make my way down the stairs.
It's the middle of the night. A sigh leaves my lips as I step outside, taking a deep breath as I gaze at the moonlight illuminated buildings.
It is a beautiful night, really. It's just... a shame...
I make my way through the village, walking towards the dojo as I continue writing.
I knock on the door and wait.
It takes about five minutes- and a little more knocking- before a man I've never met before opens the door, he wears circular glasses and has black hair tied back in a ponytail, some faint lines rest at the corners of his mouth.
"Yes? You... are apprenticing under my father, correct? Can I help you?"
"Here." I shove the folded piece of paper into his hand. "I woke up tonight... and I tend to have quite impressive haki... I'm going to go now. Please read that. Right now."
With that I turn and walk away, I can hear a faint 'what?' before I speed up and disappear into the night.
I briefly pause to gaze over the choppy ocean as the moonlight shines down. Stars glint overhead. I'm utterly exhausted... why did this have to happen TODAY.
Of course the day my teacher is all 'Hey, Brat. Let's work on your endurance. Make three swords without a break in between. But I'm only counting swords that are passible. I'll hit you with a bokken if you waste the metal on any shit swords'
Ugh. I'm so done with today.
I eventually come to a stop on the road just as a black haired girl walks past holding a sword in both of her hands.
"Heya. You back from fighting that green haired kid?" I hum.
Her eyes widen, gaze snapping back to me, she had apparently been lost in thought and didn't see me. "You?! What are you doing here?!"
"Hm. About that." I note. "Kuina... you are unaware of just how large the world is."
"Wh-"
"I know you're troubled... and I think you're an idiot for it." I deadpan.
"WH-" she seems deeply offended. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"
"You're sad that you're a woman, and are under the assumption that being a woman makes you a lesser fighter. That is categorically wrong and you are stupid for thinking that." I continue.
"I've seen it!" She snaps suddenly. "I train for hours, but every moment I can SEE the boys at the dojo closing the gap! Zoro is naturally talented at swords and even YOU who had never swung a sword before in your life was almost able to beat me! It's- IT'S RIDICULOUS!"
"Are you planning to kill yourself, Kuina?"
"W-What?" She flinches back, eyes widening.
"Because that brings me to my reason for being out here tonight... I saw you. Dead. Tomorrow. That green haired boy sobs over your body in absolute anguish, shouting about how you 'promised'... and all your father can say is that you fell down the stairs while going to find a whetstone for your sword." I stare into her eyes, as they dart back and forth.
"Do you want to know why you are falling behind? Do you want to know why your fellow students are growing stronger? You. They are sharpening their skills on the whetstone that is you... while you naturally tarnish and rust. Nobody here can push you... challenge you. Nobody can force you to get better. You let this fucking stupid idea of women being weaker get in your head and it's eating you up inside."
"If you think that you can win every single fight you get in until you are naturally crowned 'best swordswoman in the world' you're Naive. You need LOSSES. Do you seriously think Dracule Mihawk has never lost a single fight? Do you think he came out of the womb holding a sword and could cut islands in half from day one?"
"No. There was a point where he was just as weak as we are now. You want to know how I almost beat you when we first fought? I cheated. I used an innate talent that anyone can learn, but almost nobody outside the grand line can use. Haki. specifically Observation Haki. The only way I was able to hold my own... is using a trait that is only common in the second half of the grand line... y'know when people start getting bounties of half a billion."
"You. Random child in the East Blue, also known as the weakest sea... is calling it quits before the race even starts and I find that just... a waste of potential."
"And it's not like there aren't women in the sea to prove you wrong anyways. Off the top of my head, 'Charlotte Linlin', otherwise known as Big Mom. One of the emperors of the sea who killed adult GIANTS as barely more than a TODDLER!"
"Then there's the Kuja Pirates. An all-female pirate group... who all can naturally use Haki. Then there's Tsuru of the marines. Someone mentioned in the same breath as Garp 'The Hero' and the current fleet admiral Sengoku."
I let out a long sigh before shaking my head. "I'm sorry- I shouldn't be saying all this... not to you... I just- do you know what I saw in that future that woke me tonight? You made your grandfather cry... and after that?"
"..."
"I didn't see it clearly... but it was red..." I whisper faintly. "A lot of red."
Tears begin to briefly haze up her eyes as the anger begins to diminish.
She doesn't know...
She's just a kid... I shouldn't be mad at her.
"Are you... okay?" I whisper.
She lets out a small sniffle, shoulder shaking, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks.
"Hey... it's okay... you're okay..." I whisper, placing hand on her shoulder. "You're alright."
"Come on... let's get you home. Your family's probably worried sick if they've noticed that you're gone." I whisper, gently guiding the girl forwards. "The world... is a truly massive place... there are more things than you can imagine. People who live in the sky, people who live under the sea, people who can catch blades with their bare hands and people who can kick hard enough to create wind blades. There is so much to see... so much to learn... it'd be a shame to not do so, right? So many fighting techniques. So many styles."
She continues to cry... and it's ugly crying, she wipes at her face, choked gasps leaving her lips as her shoulders shake. "I-I'm sorry... I-I just didn't know what to do!"
"It's okay... I'm sorry too... I shouldn't have been mad at you... this isn't the first time I've been woken up by a vision. It won't be the last. I was just irritated that my sleep got interrupted. But that was no reason to yell at you. You must have had a hard time for you to even consider doing that."
"But... there are other ways forwards, Kuina. You can become the world's greatest swordswoman... you can surpass Mihawk if you truly try... now it won't be easy. Especially if that green haired friend of yours is also trying... but I know that you can do so much more."
I eventually walk her home, the front door to the dojo is ajar.
"Kunia?! Kunia!" Her father rushes forwards, enveloping her in a hug as she quietly cries into his shirt.
With that... I turn and walk away, planning to get at least some sleep tonight.
[Split]
"Kid..." The old man who is teaching me begins quietly.
"Yeah?" I look up from where I am looking through hunks of ore, trying to find the highest quality pieces.
"Koushirou told me about that letter you gave him... is it true?"
I look back to the box of ore. "If Kuina committed suicide... would you have committed seppuku shortly after, Sensei?"
"..." he stares for a long moment.
"Your shingan... I have heard tales... but to see the future? Such an ability is..."
"Not the first time..." I admit. "I gave a letter to that afro guy who was speaking to you with some of my findings... it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm not sure if I saw the future then... but someone died there as well."
There's a brief silence as the man stares down at me with an unreadable expression.
"For saving my innocent little girl... I owe you my life... a life for a life." The man whispers. "Everything that I have learned. Every trick. I will impart it all to you."
"I didn't do it for any reward... I might have shouted at her a bit when I found her... and I regret it. But... I'm glad that I saved a life." I close my eyes briefly. "Just teach me the way you were before. None of this 'I'll sacrifice my life in exchange for yours' thing. I just want the girl to be happy and losing her grandfather is not something she needs right now."
"No." He declares. "You came here to learn how to smith blades... and I will not allow you to be an average swordsmith anymore. We are advancing your training."
"But first. There is one thing you need to learn... I know I am growing older... more frail by the day. So it is vital that I give this lesson as soon as possible while I am still able... I will teach you a method passed down from teacher to student from the Void Century. It is a method that I had planned to allow to die with me. However, that is now unacceptable."
"A... method?" I echo.
"In my youth, I created a perfect blade. An absolute killing machine like any good sword should be. Temperamental. Greedy. Savage. It would drain your life just by holding it... there were only two men who could touch it, let alone wield it. The first? Myself. As it had bonded to me as I forged it. However, I could not draw out even a hundredth of its true power... the next? The true Daimyo of Wano Country, Kozuki Oden. That sword... wielded by that man... could split mountains. Leaving burning wounds in its wake. I named this blade after the God of Hell, Enma."
"It was by all means a cursed blade... I have heard legends of only one singular sword that is more cursed than my creation."
"Next, something equally as important... you may believe that once a blade has been forged... that once you finish sharpening it, crafting it a sheathe, and weaving it a handle that it is... done... that it is finished. That the blade can never improve. That is not the case. There are three very specific scenarios in which a blade can be improved... not counting your annoying fruit. And they all require this first method... which is being cursed in some form."
"Pardon?" I echo.
"A cursed blade has personality. A blade can sometimes gain a curse through use, a form of malevolence through unjust acts, or even a sense of justice. This personality is vitally important as... some cursed blades can even gain sentience."
"W-What?!" I whisper.
"Yes. I reacted the same." The man nods. "And with this sentience leads the blade grows more durable. Sharper. Or even gains some sort of other trait... you are aware of the grades of swords, correct? Twelve Supreme Grade, Twenty One Great Grade, Forty Seven Skillful Grade and Numerous Grade Swords."
"Yes?"
"A sword becoming cursed does not always cause it to move into the next category, however some swords... and some curses do. But they typically have to be the best of the best in order for it to overcome the gap between grades. But my Enma? It was one of those cases. Straight from Skillful to Great Grade!"
"Next? While a boring way to improve a weapon's strength... a cursed sword, with personality, can consume a devil fruit."
"Wait- without my powers?!" I gasp.
"Yes." The man nods. "Your powers allow you to skip steps, but that one-fuse per item limitation will bite you here."
"Finally, is a method that has cultural importance to my homeland. Black Blades... this is by far the most difficult but as a result the most meaningful. To make a black blade you must first be a master of Ryuo. Or as people outside of Wano call it, Armament Haki. You must also be a master swordsman and use this specific blade through numerous battles."
"My master told me this... whom was told by his master... and his master before him. Truth of black blades... you teach your swords themselves to use Ryuo... and as a result their strength grows far beyond anything you have seen it do before."
"But. I cannot teach you that... that is something that you must learn in your own time... however... the art I wish to help you understand is something I myself used to forge Enma... something created by the great swordsmith Kitetsu... the art of making a blade cursed upon its creation."