Itachi had barely been able to deflect the strike from Mihawk, having just been able to pull his sword out.
The slash went flying out into the ocean, missing Itachi's boat by mere centimeters, the pressure from it enough to cause the wood to splinter.
"Thank god," Itachi thought, "I quite like this boat."
Instantly, he turned back to look at Mihawk, the Eternal Mangekyo swirling in his eyes, but he stopped.
Mihawk had not followed up with a second attack, his stance was instead, relaxed and open.
Mihawk raised an eyebrow, curiosity worming into his thoughts.
Not just anybody could deflect a slash like that, especially when Mihawk had been aiming to kill. Even more interesting was that the man had leaped up almost instantly when Mihwak had decided on obliterating the man and his boat.
Observation Haki perhaps?
Mihawk was staring at him. He hadn't made a move since the initial slash, so Itachi cautiously stood up.
"What is your name?"
The question caught Itachi off guard, but he didn't show it.
"Uchiha Itachi."
"Well, Itachi. You may have interrupted my nap, but you have piqued my interest, so I'll let you live."
Itachi relaxed, confrontation no longer an issue, an apology on his lips.
"For now."
He signed internally. How dramatic.
"Just like Kisame," he thought.
A weight settled on the bow of his boat.
Mihawk, strapping his sword onto his back, had stepped gracefully from his boat to Itachi's.
He swept his eyes across the deck and around the boat, looking up at the flag at the top of the mast, looking with particular interest on the swirled leaf design on his flag.
It was one that he would not be able to recognize because there was no Konoha in this world. It was purely unique to Itachi.
His eyes swept back to Itachi, who was picking up the sketchbook he had dropped to deflect Mihawk's sword.
"Are you an artist?" He asked.
Itachi gave a slight grin, "An aspiring one. I've only done some work at festivals. Everything else is just my own experimentation."
Turning to head back into the boat's small cabin, he called over his shoulder, "Would you like some tea?"
Seeing as they weren't trying to kill each other, Itachi at least had to be a gracious host.
Mihawk nodded and attempted to follow after him into the cabin.
Only… he couldn't make it past the door. He realized that the hilt of his sword was too wide and too tall.
Itachi watched as he prepared the tea as Mihawk attempted to shift his body this way and that to get through the door without taking his sword off his back. He eventually gave up when he attempted a weird twisted half-squat only for the sword to once again get jammed in the doorway.
It was quite an amusing sight.
With a sigh of defeat, Mihawk unstrapped the sword and brought it inside, laying it down on Itachi's bed.
Then with grace and injured pride, he sat down in one of the two seats by the cabin's table.
"Not a word. It has been a while since I've had to walk through such a small doorway."
Itachi only smiled, bringing over two cups of tea. They were part of a rather crude tea set that he had made with an earth jutsu. Training to further increase his chakra control.
They sat there in silence, enjoying the tea. Itachi had picked it up at a rather upscale shop on the previous island.
It was quite good.
Both men hummed in approval.
Mihawk looked around the room during this time, noting a large number of scrolls and sketchbooks stacked along the shelves.
He turned back to Itachi, "What do you hope to do with your art?"
Itachi leaned back in his chair, "I just wish to draw. I like it. Simple as that. I would love to learn more though. How to paint, how to sculpt, how to craft. I've taken quite a few jobs to learn as many things as I could. Worked at a blacksmith for a bit to learn the basics of forging and with a carpenter to learn woodworking. I just want to learn more than anything. Learn and see and experience everything that this world has to offer. Understand what my purpose is here. I'm sure you can understand a man's thirst to understand himself."
Mihawk indeed understood. You couldn't become the best swordsman in the world without learning something about yourself.
"I could direct you to a place. A place called Artopoki. It is an island full of artists, craftspeople, and swordsmiths, famous for the high quality of their pieces. A perfect place to learn what you so desire. The quality of their art is by far the best in the world. If you'll have me, despite our rough start, I would not mind at all telling you where it is."
Not one to disregard such a blatant peace offering, Itachi nodded quite enthusiastically. The island indeed sounded like the perfect places to further pursue his artistic interests and he was very much inclined to go to it.
With a slight tilt to his lips, Mihawk told him about how to get to Artopoki, the natural defenses that surrounded it, and the basics of the island's culture and history.
"I must be off Itachi, but it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to the next time we clash swords."
With a curt nod, he turned and stepped back onto his boat, sailing in the direction of the Grand Line.
Itachi waved him off before turning back and changing his heading towards the island of Artopoki. He realized with a huff of annoyance that he would have to sail into the wind.
He did not enjoy tacking in the slightest.
He arrived at the dock of Artopoki within a day.
From a distance, the island was quite beautiful, full of color and life. Now that he was closer, he could truly appreciate it. The lush greens of the plant life, trees and plants full of fruit, and a town bustling with life and art. He had probably come during harvest season as he saw quite a few men, women, and children carrying baskets of fruits and vegetables.
Tying off his boat and paying the docking fee, he wandered into town looking for an art supplies shop. He needed some new pencils, another box of charcoal and some more sketchbooks. He was also carrying a small portfolio of his best pieces hoping to ask the proprietor of the shop about where he could hope to further his learning on the island.
He found one eventually tucked into an alley off the main street. It was small but well kept and as he opened the door, a little bell chimed.
At the sound, a young girl came bounding out from the back, her white hair flowing behind her, a bright toothy smile upon her face, a small star tattoo by her eye.
"Hiya! What can I getcha?"
Itachi smiled down at her, "Just here for some supplies and ask a few questions. Could I have two boxes of your best colored pencils, another box of drawing pencils, a box of charcoal and three sketchbooks?"
"Of course!" And she bounded off into the back of the store.
While she grabbed his requested supplies, he walked around the shop, inspecting the pieces along its walls as well as the prints and drawings for sale along some of the tables against the wall. At the back was a single piece. A giant mural of the town square he had passed earlier painted on the wall. It was so…beautiful.
The colors were exquisite. The painting immaculate. It was perfect. He had never seen something painted to be so real. So…lifelike. It was almost like a picture. A perfectly captured instance of time painted on this wall.
"Wow, mister! These are really good drawings!"
Itachi turned to the voice, the girl back with all his requested items and flipping through his portfolio, which he had left on the countertop.
He didn't really care if she looked through them, he was going to show them anyways. He pointed at the mural and asked her, "Who painted this mural? It's incredible. The attention to detail is amazing and I've never seen colors so vibrant and accurate. It's like a photograph."
The girl beams her big toothy smile, "My mama painted that! It's older than I am! She's super cool! She's an illustrator for the island so she's like really cool. The cooliest cool person to ever cool!"
Itachi was impressed, "Seems like illustrators are held in high regard here."
He asked another question, "How did she get the colors to keep their vibrancy for such a long time? They don't look oil-based."
She looked at him like he was stupid, "She used her blood of course dummy. What else would she have done?"
Her statement and tone thoroughly confused Itachi.
"Her blood? What about her blood? Did she mix it with the paints or something? I don't really understand. Mihawk did say their blood was special, but he hadn't elaborated after that."
"Do you not know about Poki-," the girl started to say, but at that very moment a man with the same white hair and similar facial features came out and covered her mouth. Her father.
"Now that's enough blabbing there Lulu, why don't you go find your mother while I finish the nice man's purchase, eh?" the man said gently, removing his hand from his daughter's mouth.
She pouted but turned and walked out the front entrance.
The man turned to Itachi (he noted the flowery tattoo under his eye) and smiled, "Your purchase will come out to 1,800 berries. A little expensive, but he heard the quality of the supplies here were top-notch so he willingly handed the bills to the man.
While Itachi put his purchased materials into his bag, the man flipped through his portfolio.
"These are some quality pieces you got here. You trying to sell?"
Itachi looked back up at the man, who was still flipping through his art.
"No. I was actually going to ask if you know where I could go to learn more?"
The man looked up in surprise, "Learn?! You must be crazy. The people here dedicate their lives to their craft! From birth to death, they do what they love. You would have no hope to match them!"
Itachi only smiled, "I am not here to match, but to find knowledge. I want to learn as much as I can. Of this world and this life of mine. I am not here to master your arts, but here to experience them. The passion and the love that your people have for art is matched by none, and I would love to be a part of that, to experience it first hand."
The man's face softened, a blush of embarrassment creeping onto his cheeks, "I see. I see. Sorry for the outburst, but we've had so many individuals come to our shores looking to challenge our artists and craft makers. It's almost second nature to instantly turn away foreigners. But you, on the other hand, seem to have come for a more humble pursuit. Perhaps we can make something happen. Yes. Yes, we just might be able to."
He extended his hand, "I can probably talk to my wife about it. My name is Kalei."
Itachi gently shook it, "Uchiha Itachi. I appreciate the help."
Kalei's wife, Halina, was a pleasant individual. She was a gracious host to Itachi, a doting mother to Lulu, and a loving wife to Kalei. Their family was a beautiful one and Itachi hated it.
His presence dirtied the purity of their love.
He didn't deserve to be there.
When he had accepted Kalei's invitation, he had expected to be brought to talk to somebody about staying on the island and learning their arts. He had not expected to be eating dinner with his family, much less being so easily accepted into their love.
Of course, it would be rude to leave, so he sat there and suffered. Hating how he tainted their bond every single second he sat with them.
After dinner had finished, Halina brought him into a smaller room, an office of sorts, and sat down motioning for Itachi to do the same.
She laid his pieces out on the desk, as he settled down in the seat next to her.
"You have great potential to become a world-class artist. I will not deny it. Your pieces here are quite good, especially for someone who has only been drawing for a few months now. Your aptitude for pencil and charcoal drawings is something that we can work with very well, but your desire for other crafts is less plausible. Here on Artopoki, art is in our blood. We find our calling at a young age, and we work and work and work to perfect our craft our entire lives. We teach by example and through years of diligent practice, we set the foundations for our children to find their own style and rhythm and create their own art. If you were to start and quit halfway through, it would be a slap in the face to us. Art and teaching it have great importance in our lives. I cannot allow you, a drifter and foreigner with no loyalty to the island, to learn anything other than drawing without some sort of assurance that you will stay dedicated"
Itachi stared in thought before speaking, "What if I can prove just how fast of a learner I am?"
Halina looked at him questioningly.
"What if I told you that I had an ability that could let me learn and memorize material at an accelerated rate and copy and memorize movements almost perfectly?"
Halina looked contemplative, "It could accelerate your learning by a lot if what you say is true, plus I guess you're much older than the normal age we start teaching, so that should be taken into account too. Tell you what. I'll personally teach you for one week. You prove yourself and I will accept you with open arms."
Itachi began to nod a thank you on the tip of his tongue.
"But, if I find you unsatisfactory, I'll gut you."
Itachi smiled. How scary.
It was a wonderful opportunity.
Several months had passed. Itachi honestly hadn't kept track as he was fully consumed with learning everything he could from the artists and craft makers.
He had immensely impressed Halina with how quickly he picked up the theory and painting techniques she showed him. Within the week she had given him, he had learned and mastered the skills that others would spend more than a year mastering.
He had requested for Haline to tell and show him everything she was going to teach him in one day. She obliged him, describing in depth a multitude of brush techniques and different types of brushes and their uses. She had followed each explanation with a demonstration of different techniques with each brush, Itachi watching her intently with his Sharingan. They had spent nearly 18 hours doing this only taking breaks for food, water, and natural needs. Itachi had then used the remaining six days to master how to use the techniques shown to him with each brush he had been provided.
The techniques had been quite troublesome at first. His hands were not at all accustomed to any of the brushes, the two calligraphy lessons with his mother, and the sealing lessons at the Academy not at all enough to help him. He had thought that he could cheat a little bit by channeling a little chakra into the brush, but it had made the bristles incredibly stiff, and impossible to paint with. He did eventually get a solid grasp of the differences in each brush through sheer repetition, but it resulted in him not getting much sleep that week.
His failure with using chakra had gotten him thinking if it was possible to paint with the use of chakra (he knew that seals could be drawn with it), but he elected to experiment with that once he had learned all he could from the Pokians.
Passing Halina's test with flying colors, he proved his commitment to learning from the best in the world.
The next many months had been a flurry of learning and practicing. Whether it was turning pottery, weaving tapestries, carving sculptures, or pounding steel, the Pokians worked him hard, his monstrous learning ability leaving them in awe and all the more hungry to teach him more. He had quite literally bitten off more than he could chew, his mind so fully focused on learning that he had accepted just about any offer from any artist or craft maker to teach him something without any further thought. A few weeks ago, a seamstress had somehow gotten him into her shop and had instantly begun lecturing him on how to make clothes. He had left a week later, mind stuffed with sewing, measurements, and fabrics only to be immediately pulled away to make a tea set.
It had become a normal sight on the island to see Itachi being dragged somewhere by an eager Pokian hoping to impart some more knowledge of their craft to the "artistic genius".
Itachi didn't mind. He loved it here. The peace, tranquility, and liveliness of the island was something he basked in. He had often stayed up some nights, reminiscing about Konoha and comparing it to the island paradise that was Artopoki, wishing wistfully that the elemental nations had been like this.
War was not something he wanted to participate in again, but if he had to, he would not hesitate to step back into that bloody world.
He pulled the length of steel out of the furnace, breaking his train of thought.
Another thing he found he enjoyed was forging. He found it as pleasant and enjoyable as drawing or painting, but in a different way. The repetitive motions, the heat, the noise. Something about it just seemed right in Itachi's mind, but the thing he enjoyed the most was listening, something he had learned from his master.
He had probably the most interesting bladesmith as a teacher.
Makani was her name and she was a wild woman. A master of her craft, she had the least to say but the most to show and Itachi watched.
A master of her domain, she was grace and power and fierce. Every strike perfect, every step fluid and practiced. Watching her work was mesmerizing, it was almost an art in itself.
Other than Halina and her family, Makani was the only other person who he had an incredibly close relationship with as he spent more time in her forge than any other place on the island. When they worked, they barely spoke, Makani using a furnace poker to correct his form or point out any mistakes.
Words were not needed. Makani finding them unnecessary in her workspace, Itachi not needing any to understand her intentions.
When she did talk in the forge it was for something of extreme importance. The first time had been when she had asked him to listen.
"You are not listening. Only hammering."
Itachi stopped and looked up, surprise written on his face. This was the first time Makani had spoken to him. He had been studying under her for a month now learning everything there was to working metal, his few meager weeks at a blacksmith not at all enough to satisfy her. She had been quite adamant about him learning everything properly before even attempting to make a sword.
Today was his first attempt. She had shown him how to make a simple short sword. Nothing too fancy or intricate about it. Seven folds of steel hammered into a single edge. At least that's what he thought.
Making a sword had been much harder than any of the other simpler things he had been tasked with making. Forming it was quite difficult, the shape he wanted to make it into just didn't seem right and he couldn't figure out why.
Makani had been watching his third attempt at making the blade before she had spoken. She pointed at the metal he was working on, "You are not listening to the metal. He will tell you what he wants. You feel it. I can tell, but you are still not listening to it. Everything has a voice. Just listen."
"Close your eyes. Listen."
Itachi did as he was instructed, closing his eyes and straining his senses. He understood that listen meant more than just listening, just like how Observation Haki was more than just seeing, so he reached out with his chakra, and with what limited understanding he understood of his haki.
He sat there and listened, feeling, reaching, his whole attention on the lump of folded steel on his anvil.
Then he heard something, but it wasn't quite hearing. A whisper that wasn't a whisper and a sound that he couldn't describe.
Was it possible to hear a smile?
He raised his hammer, intent and desire filling his arm.
He brought it down. A feeling of a hum of content.
He did it again. A soft breath much quieter than before.
The heat from the steel was fading. Without a thought, Itachi stuck it back in the furnace, although with a little hesitation, he pumped the bellows. It just felt right.
Itachi's eyes were still closed, fully focused on the soft feelings and whispers.
A nudge and he pulled the steel out.
He hammered and then listened. And then hammered and then listened.
It was a slow process, but slowly, ever so slowly, a proper short sword formed under Itachi's hammer.
Makani watched approvingly very pleased with Itachi's progress,
"The boy might just be able to listen to the Voice of All Things. To pick up on the intent of a blade not yet made already. That's pretty scary."
She had honestly wanted him to sit there and look stupid, quite annoyed with all the attention and clamor he brought to her side of the island. He was intelligent, almost too intelligent, and thus at her instruction would've sat there for more than he needed trying to figure out the meaning behind her words.
Of course, the sword would have a voice, but that was until after it was made. Truly masterful bladesmiths could get an inkling of the best shape for a sword from the voices of the steel. Only once in history had there been a swordsmith who could listen fully to what the steel wanted. A legendary bladesmith from the Land of Wano, his blades were the most sought after swords in the world, although one had ever been identified: the legendary Endless Night, a sword that had turned black immediately after being forged. Of course, the Kitetsu school of Wano was also quite famous, but their swords could never compete against the might of the Endless Night and the legend of the Swordsmith of the High Heavens. The sword was lost to history, as well as the information of his other swords, all equally as powerful and destructive as the other. If she could train this young man to become like that, to make blades as legendary as those of the High Heavens, the current plane of swordsmithing would be changed forever. The thought of her heralding that change in the young man before you made her feel quite giddy with excitement.
"Finally, something interesting is going to happen."
Itachi opened his eyes, a naked blade resting on his anvil, hammered and heated to perfection. It had taken him four hours, the feelings eluding him from time to time. He waited, not even attempting to hammer or heat until he was certain about the action he needed to take.
The result was a perfectly made sword. It would need to be buffed and sharped, but it was already undeniably beautiful.
He looked up to Makani, a bright smile on her face.
In the many months that had passed, he had gotten quite good at listening to the steel and how it wanted to be shaped. He still couldn't hear a voice in a sword yet, as Makani had described, but he could still understand them quite easily. The ability to Hear the Voice of All Things was interesting to hear about, Makani not one to keep relevant information from someone. He concluded that it was probably the next step of Observation Haki, similar to how the Mangekyo could become the Eternal Mangekyo. Of course, it wasn't exactly the same, an individual would probably have to be born with the ability to attain it, but it was the best comparison he could use to understand it.
Makani had also described the history of swordsmithing, or at least the only other recorded instance of a swordsmith that could listen to the Voice of All Things. It had intrigued him greatly and he had resolved to try and cultivate the ability. At the end of every day, he would set aside time to make a blade, purely by listening to it and nothing else.
As of now, he had probably churned out more than 100 blades of varying sizes and designs, but all of high quality. Makani had taken them all to be coated, a process that he hadn't been taught yet, although he had requested that a few make their way back to him so that he could make the hilt and guard for them.
His current project felt the need to be large, not an ax but something just as powerful, so he had decided to go in the direction of a two-handed greatsword, his decision had been met with grunt of approval. A rather gruff sounding voice, fitting for what was going to be a rather large sword.
The very first sword he had made had taken him four hours to make through this method, and it had been a short sword. The first katana he had made had taken him eight hours. Slowly but surely he had been able to drop that time, being able to listen to the steel he was working with for longer and longer periods than the previous time.
Now? He didn't need to close his eyes as he worked. He could probably make this greatsword in an hour, and it was going to be massive. The blade wanted to be very long. If he had to guess probably at least 2.5 meters. The thought was met with another gruff sound of approval.
Itachi chuckled, "Compensating for something?"
He felt a pout of sorts, making him laugh. Finishing the last few hammers onto the edge, he flipped it over and began working on the other side.
"Don't take it too seriously, it's just a joke."
A hum of acceptance.
Finishing up the edge on the backside, he quenched the sword in oil and placed it in a different furnace for heat treating.
He sat down at this workbench and began to sketch out the crossguard and hilt of the sword. He could make those quickly before the sword itself finished its heat treatment, the pommel would have to come later.
He grabbed a small piece of steel and stuck it into the furnace, pumping the bellows to increase the temperature a bit, he then grabbed a chunk of oak wood and began to carve it into the shape of a handle. He craved out a nice long one, one that could comfortably fit two hands on it. He coated it in a thin, strong glue, and began to wind a long thin strip of leather around it. Finished with the hilt, he went back to the furnace and took out the steel. With a few deft strokes, he hammered it out into a long strip. He tapered it out from the center to either end before he began to round it off. He quenched the guard in oil and placed it back into the furnace for tempering. He checked to make sure that the glue on the hilt had cured before grabbing a small ingot of iron and heating it in the furnace as well. He then turned to the oven, pulled out the sword blade, and checked it for any deformities or kinks. Finding none, he quenched it in oil once more and then set it off to the side to cool. He then went back to the furnace, grabbed the crossguard, hammered at it so that it made a slight V shape and dunked it into the water barrel next to him. He then placed it to cool beside the rest of the blade and went to begin working on the pommel.
He pulled the iron ingot from the furnace, it's color a bright red. Soft and malleable, he immediately began to hammer it into a jewel shape. It was quick work and he only needed to heat it the one time, letting it cool naturally. He then placed it next to the blade and guard, waiting for all of them to cool off enough such that he could begin sanding, buffing and polishing them.
Adding all the finishing touches to a sword was Itachi's favorite way to end the night. Sanding and buffing and polishing until every part of his creation gleamed, before sliding it all together to complete the sword was incredibly satisfying. He wrapped it in an oilcloth and left it on his workbench for Makani to pick up in the morning for a coating.
He stood up and stretched, grabbing the part of his tunic that had fallen around his waist and wrapping it back around his shoulders. The island was constantly warm so Itachi had opted out of his normal clothing to wear what most of the male blacksmiths wore: a pair of soft pants, a light tunic and a pair of close-toed shoes. They were nice and breezy to ease the heat of the forge, but tough enough to withstand the sparks, flames and constant motion. He liked them, but missed the comfort of his normal clothes.
"Done, Itachi?" a voice called from the entrance to his forge.
He turned to see Keoni, a fellow blacksmith, standing there. She did this almost everyday, visiting him after he finished his most recent project, either bringing food or water or just wanting to chat. He appreciated it very much, as being able to relax right after he finished making a sword was quite nice. He thought back to the start of their friendship.
"Hiya stranger! New to the forge?" A new voice floated airly from behind him.
He turned to see a rather pretty woman standing at the entrance, inspecting the finished door hinge.
"I see Makani has got you working on curling metal. This is quite good although the last pin hole is slightly crooked. Word of advice, if you wet the pin and stick it in the pinholes before you finish them, you can get a more accurate and snug fit." The woman set the hinge back down on the workbench.
"My name is Keoni. Pleased to meet you Itachi, you're all the buzz around the island right now. Something something artistic prodigy. Something something, learning everything instantly. I just had to come and see it for myself."
She looked him up and down. "Handsome face, good body, but nothing else really. I'll tell you this, forging is a whole different animal compared to drawing or painting. Judging from your progress on this hinge, I guess you've been working on this for about a month."
"No, I learned this today."
"It's understandable. It took me three and a half weeks to-" His words finally processed in her mind. "This is your first day making this?!"
He nodded.
She spluttered, her face blushing in embarrassment.
She turned and ran out the entrance.
And that was Itachi's first interaction with Keoni, only saying a total of five words to her and already making her run for the hills.
Truly a genius with the fairer sex.
The string of interactions afterwards followed a similar pattern, with her trying to find something that she could lord over Itachi, but only ended up failing and running away everytime.
One time, a month and a half later, she stopped coming. He had come to enjoy their little daily interactions and so he went and sought her out.
He found her sulking in her forge, sketching something on her workbench, mumbling under her breath.
"Stupid Itachi and his genius brain and his stupid fine motar control and stupid monstrous learning ability." She had started to draw angry circles on the sheet of paper.
"Ah, Keoni," he started.
She snapped out a "What?"
"Could you help me with this mortise and tenon joint? I keep on trying to reform the slot but I just can't get it to fit correctly. Could you help me perhaps?"
Makani had told him it was a common problem with blacksmiths their first time making it, but she hadn't bothered to tell him how to fix it. He of course had figured it out, but he found it as a great opportunity to make Keoni feel better about herself. He could see her shoulders shake in excitement as she moaned and groaned, having to teach him something so simple, but with great "reluctance" she would be a good elder student and help him out.
As she stepped him through the process of properly creating the joint, he noted that the soft smile on her face looked much better than the pout she had had on for the previous month and a half.
After that, Keoni would just come by to chat, or eat food if she brought any with her.
He smiled, "Yeah, just putting away some tools and dousing the furnace. I'll meet you at the usual spot?"
She nodded happily, "I have some fresh fruit that I picked today!"
Before he could respond, she dashed off.
He'd just finished another sword. He had barely set it down before a hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him out the door.
"Follow me" was all she said, but she wasn't really giving him the chance and was dragging him instead.
Honestly, Keoni was scary strong and could easily pull him along behind her. With a quick kick, he flipped himself over her, before stepping back to walk beside her.
"Where're you taking me, Keoni?" He asked.
"My favorite spot on this entire island."
A little while later, they crested the top of the cliff. It had an incredible view of the night sky above them, but also the village below them.
"Wow. This spot is… breathtaking. It's gorgeous. How did you find it?" Itachi breathed out.
Keoni beamed proudly, "I found it when I was younger trying to run away from Makani. You're the first person that I've ever brought here. It seems like a much better place to hang out after you finish working, no?"
"No, I would very much prefer this than my dirty, sooty forge." He laughed.
"Come," she motioned for him to lay down. "My favorite thing to do up here is-"
With a smile and a shake of his head, Itachi put away the rest of his tools, checking one last time that his furnace was cold and not going to burn his workplace down. Satisfied, he began to make his way to the clifftop that he and Keoni frequented. He could make out her silhouette in the moonlight, the fruit basket right next to her.
Itachi honestly had no idea what to make of their relationship. They were friends of course, but he was unsure if her more intimate gestures were her just being a cuddly person or something else. He wasn't exactly the most experienced with the matters of love and intimacy, seeing as he spent much of his formative years as a S-rank missing-nin, not something most women in the Elemental Nations viewed positively.
Keoni was a beautiful woman, he could not deny that. Her deep tan contrasted perfectly with the white hair on her head. Bright blue eyes like the sky on a clear day, a delicate nose and soft lips on a heart-shaped face. An athletic, yet curvaceous body.
Itachi could not deny her physical beauty, but still held back on his thoughts of her actions. He did not want to lead her on unintentionally, but he just could not for the life of him figure out what she wanted from him.
Did she just want to stay as his friend or was she trying for something else?
Without a certain answer, Itachi just tried to be as respectful as he could to her.
Reaching the top of the hill, he sat next to Keoni's sprawled form, grabbing a handful of berries to munch on.
"Beautiful isn't it?" Keoni was staring up at the moon. She loved it, especially when she was looking at it from the clifftop. Ever since she had first set her eyes on it, she had been entranced. It was the tattoo that she had by her eye: a little crescent moon.
Itachi hummed in agreement. The moon surrounded by the stars with the island below it was a beautiful sight. It was something that he drew often, giving them to Kalei to sell in his shop. He had only painted it once, a commission from the council to paint a mural in the town square.
"Are you doing anything for the festival tomorrow?" Keoni turned on her side to look at him. Tomorrow was the coming of age ceremony for the four and a half-year-olds. Both had been tasked with helping out with the festival that would start later in the evening.
Still looking at the moon, Itachi replied, "I'll just be running a food stall. I can make some quality yakisoba ya'know. You?"
"I'll be helping with the fireworks, but that's about it."
They lapsed back into a comfortable silence.
"I've noticed that you don't really have people dragging you around anymore. Learned everything there is to learn on this little island of ours?"
"Honestly, yeah I have."
Keoni squawked with surprise, quickly standing up, "Wait wait waitwaitwait. You mean to tell me that YOU have learned almost EVERYTHING this island has to offer?"
Itachi ate another berry, "Yes. I've been talking with the council and they were just as surprised with how quickly I've learned everything."
"Tha- That- That's insane! You learned almost hundreds of years of history and art in the span of like eight months. That's unheard of! What the fuck kind of genius are you?!"
He only laughed out her outburst.
"The council had a similar reaction. They spent over a week verifying it with the artists on the island. Halina and Makani both vouched for me as well. Just about the only thing I don't know is how to coat swords and make your special everlasting ink/paint. The only hints I've gotten about those is that it relates to your blood. Quite obviously, I can't experiment with Pokian blood without getting it from a Pokian. Plus, I will respect any reasons why they haven't yet taught it to me."
Itachi laid back and looked up at the night sky. Keoni stared down at him. She would've loved to have him use her blood, but she understood all too well why she couldn't. The uses of Pokian blood were a well-kept secret within the island and only a select few outsiders were allowed to know, their ability to keep the secret held in high regard. Dracule Mihawk was one such individual. He frequented the island to get his blade coated, or he requested for a jar of blood to coat it himself, having learned from one of their best swordsmiths ten years ago. Whitebeard was also another who knew, his naginata also coated with Pokian blood. Both of those men had established reputations and could easily defend themselves if need be.
Itachi on the other hand… He looked well built and seemed to know his way around a sword, but could he compete in strength against the strongest man in the world? The world's greatest swordsman? How could he protect Artopoki's greatest secrets if they were only entrusted to the literal strongest in the world?
Keoni wasn't too sure about what she felt about him, but she cherished the friendship she had developed with Itachi. She wanted more than anything to tell him the great secrets and uses of Pokian blood but her loyalty to the island was stronger than her possible infatuation with Itachi.
She sat back down and leaned against Itachi, resting her head on his stomach. She had tried so hard to figure out her feelings for Itachi, trying to figure out if their relationship was more than friendship. Even if she wanted to take it further, she had no idea what to do even if she wanted to take it further. Itachi was wonderful. A humble, genius, and incredibly gentle man, who could literally do every single art on the island. He had been so patient with her, letting her mess with his hair, his ears, his clothes and even let her doodle on his skin. Of course, she would've let him do "random" things, but most of the time it was just him asking her to model for him. He was far too nice to try anything "further" with her. He was probably being his normal polite self, but she wouldn't have minded if he'd gotten a little handsy. It could also be a difference in their view of touch. She was a far more tactile individual than he was and loved to touch people and be touched, Itachi on the other hand was far more reserved, mainly keeping his hands to himself and not draping himself over others like Keoni loved to do. Either way, she loved snuggling up to him as he was incredibly warm. It was an added bonus that she enjoyed his presence.
The two laid in silence and gazed at the moon, both completely unaware of the confusion each one caused for the other.
The fireworks were about to start.
Itachi was hurrying to finish up a few last-minute orders before he met up with Keoni at their regular spot.
Scooping off the yakisoba off the grill and onto a small plate, he stuck two forks into it and handed it off to the young couple.
"Enjoy!" he said with a beaming smile before winking, " and stay safe."
It was easy to see where the night was going to end for them.
Cleaning off his grill top and putting up his cooking ingredients and utensils, Itachi closed his stall before legging it to the clifftop. Of course, he could have Body Flickered up there but he enjoyed making his way through the throngs of people milling out. Seeing everyone out and about enjoying the festivities was an amazing sight. He committed it to memory so that he could draw it later.
He arrived at the cliff top first, but he could see Keoni running full tilt up the path. When she reached the top of the path, she continued running as fast as she could and launched herself at Itachi.
"Itachi!" she cried out happily.
With a grunt of surprise, he went down in a tangle of limbs, not at all expecting the amount of force behind the flying tackle from her.
She hugged him tightly, laughing, "I'm so excited! This is your first coming of age festival! It's the biggest one of the year!"
She scrambled off of him, dragging him back up to a standing position.
"It's about to start! It's about to start! I can't wait for you to see it! I worked so hard on this!"
Her laugh and her voice were light and airy and so, so full of life.
"Look!" she pointed into the sky.
The show had started. The sky was painted with light and color. The air filled with sound and smoke.
Itachi watched with wonder. It wasn't the first fireworks show he had seen, but it was by far the most extravagant. The colors were incredibly vibrant, large explosions of them covering the sky. Another sight to commit to memory. It was amazing.
Keoni looked up at Itachi, happiness and joy almost visibly spilling from her. Seeing Itachi enjoy the fireworks show that she oversaw made her heart somersault. The softness in his face and the easy smile on his lips. It was an image she would cherish forever. She blushed thinking just how beautiful he looked in the light and her heart skipped a beat.
As the show reached its final stages, she asked Itachi, "Next year someone else will organize the fireworks. Perhaps you could tell me which one you liked better?"
Itachi's mouth formed into a sad smile, a smile she didn't like, "I don't think I'll be here for much longer Keoni. The council agreed to let Makani teach me how to coat my swords. Afterwards, I'll probably set sail again."
The sounds of the fireworks dimmed in her ears, her senses fully focused on Itachi. Sadness and anxiety welling up inside of her, "What about your life here? Don't you want to master your art? Your skills? Learn our secrets to make ink and paint? Don't you want to stay? What about-, What about-"
Tears pooled in her eyes.
"What about me?" she choked out.
"What do you mean?" Itachi asked.
The last firework shot, specially made by Keoni to be the biggest, most spectacular firework of the entire show.
"I think I l-."
No she couldn't say it. Not here, not now. She wasn't even sure about it herself.
The firework exploded, illuminating the entire sky. Cheers and whoops and clapping could be heard below them.
Itachi looked her in the eyes.
"What, Keoni?"
"You made a promise. To me. That you would master swordsmithing. That together we would make the best damn swords this world had ever seen. Better than those Supreme Grade ones. Are you going to break that promise to me?"
Shame welled up in Itachi, it hurt to see tears drip from her eyes.
"I still need to find myself. Explore this world and find my purpose. Settling down on an island now just isn't something I can do. I-"
The words were caught in his throat now. He thought back to that promise he had made to her.
He was cleaning up his forge, Makani finished with instructing on how to make a simple grip and guard for the short sword.
"Oooooooooooh, what's this?"
Itachi sighed, "Hi Keoni, how are you?"
She plopped down on the workbench, picking up the shortsword to inspect it.
"Not bad for your first time, Itachi! I like it a lot. Now it's pretty crappy compared to what I can make, but you'll get there for sure."
There it was. The lording. Itachi let her have her fun though. It was only light teasing.
"I'm sure I'll get better in time, Keoni. It won't be long before I can make a sword better than you."
"Oho! You sound a little confident. I'll have you know that I can pound out a Grade Sword every single time I make one! This little piece of scrap couldn't even measure up to it."
Itachi leaned the broom against the wall, "You say that now, but I'm sure that I'll be able to make a Supreme Grade sword before you can."
"Oh, is that a challenge, punk? You trying to get into a swordsmithing competition?"
"It's not much of a competition if you have no chance of actually winning."
"Alright! I see how it is, Itachi. Then I challenge you. We'll see who can make a Supreme Grade sword first. Whoever wins gets to boss around the other for a whole year!"
"Oi, a year seems kind of long." Itachi tried to negotiate.
"Nuh uh uh! There's no way we can make one that soon. It'll be far into the future before either one of us has even the skill needed to produce such a masterpiece. So the prize will remain as a year!"
"Fine," Itachi huffed out. "It's a deal."
"You promise?"
"Promise."
He pulled her into a hug.
"I can't stay, Keoni. You know I can't, but I haven't forgotten our promise. We can still do it even if we're far away. No matter how long it takes or how far I go, I'll come back to you."
She pulled out of the hug, the massive firework still lighting up both of their faces.
"She looks so pretty."
"He looks so handsome."
"You promise?"
"I promise."
"Now, now Itachi. None of that. I have different plans for you."