The Yashiro Commission?
The name meant nothing to Muramasa, but hearing "Grand Narukami Shrine," he got the gist of it. An offering blade… as I recall, it's used in shrines for blessings and warding off evil.
"If it's a commission, you don't have a choice, do you? You have to do it," Muramasa said nonchalantly. But the burly man just sighed again.
"Easy for you to say. Master always handled this in previous years… but this year, he's injured, and he specifically named me to do it. I wouldn't do this even if they paid me more… Even though I'm the head apprentice, he also…"
He rambled on, but only Yoimiya was still trying to cheer him up. Muramasa's attention had already drifted elsewhere. He looked at the finished blades in the shop, picked one up, and interrupted Tougo's increasingly gloomy complaints.
"Did you make all of these?"
Tougo looked up at the weapon in Muramasa's hand. "Yes…" he nodded, then added, "Those are all Amenoma-style works that master has approved."
There was no need for magical analysis. Just by holding it, Muramasa could understand the blade's construction, craftsmanship, and the spirit embedded within it.
"In that case, how about this." Muramasa raised the blade, resting the pommel against his eye socket and extending his arm to check its straightness. "You transfer this commission to me, and I will complete this 'Amenoma-style' work for you."
The moment he said it, Tougo shot up from his seat. But his eyes weren't filled with joy, but with fury. His bloodshot eyes looked ready to burst as his tall frame loomed over Muramasa.
"Wait, wait… Muramasa didn't mean it like that!" Yoimiya hadn't expected Muramasa to say something so provocative and quickly tried to intervene.
But Tougo, veins bulging on his neck, couldn't hear her. He roared, "What did you say? Do you think the 'Amenoma-style' is something you can just forge whenever you feel like it—"
This guy seems like a down-to-earth person, but he's got the stubbornness of a true craftsman deep down. Sensing his dedication, Muramasa didn't back down an inch. "It would still be better than what you're forging right now, wouldn't it?"
His gaze fell on the "scrap iron" that had been thrown aside, his tone colder than usual. "As a blacksmith, to discard the very thing you are supposed to forge… I don't believe my skills would lose to someone like that."
Seeing his defiant attitude, Tougo clenched his jaw. He wanted to retort but couldn't find the right words. Nameless anger was about to make him explode. "Don't think you're some grandmaster just because you call yourself 'this old man'!"
"The Amenoma-style! It's all about the patience of water dripping on a stone! The will to give it your all!" In the end, all he could do was spit out these weak words and slam back down onto his chair.
Yoimiya, however, caught on to something. "Don't you usually say 'the will of water dripping on a stone, the patience to give it your all'…?" So he's been saying it backward on purpose to annoy his master?
After a short silence, Tougo panted heavily, as if he had expended a great deal of energy.
"A craftsman who doesn't even have the confidence to forge a work shouldn't be lecturing others about this style or that style," Muramasa said. His tone wasn't mocking, but rather like he was stating a known truth.
"Fine, fine…" After hearing him out, Tougo nodded like a pecking chicken, each nod more forceful than his hammer blows. "What's your name, Muramasa, right?"
"If you can forge an 'Amenoma-style' blade that meets the Yashiro Commission's requirements, I'll pay out of my own pocket! I'll give you as much ore as you want! In return, if I find out you're all talk and no skill, then don't let me see you in Inazuma ever again!"
He had expected the other man to back down, or at least soften his tone, but Muramasa replied immediately.
"It's a deal."
"Yoimiya, help me with the fire."
His acceptance alone was enough to awe Tougo. It was obvious this man knew nothing about the Amenoma-style, yet he dared to challenge him on his first try. This courage and boldness left Tougo, who had been an apprentice for so long, speechless.
"Then I'll just pick my own materials. No problem, right?" Muramasa glanced at Tougo. Seeing him nod, he walked straight into the shop and, after only a couple of glances, picked up a piece of Tamahagane steel.
This first step stunned Tougo. He's never seen the raw materials before, has he? This special material from Tatarasuna was not something just anyone could handle. Even local blacksmiths needed long periods of training and adaptation. And a guy like him, who didn't even know the Amenoma-style, would have absolutely no way of coming into contact with such a strictly controlled ore.
"Oh, okay!" The sudden "duel" had even left Yoimiya stunned. She could only stammer out an agreement. But when she got to the furnace, she realized, "Eh, but I don't know what temperature is needed for forging a sword."
"Just keep heating it up. I'll tell you when to stop," Muramasa said. His confidence was contagious, but she was still worried.
"Should I use my Vision? Or just a normal flame…"
A Vision… ah, so it's like a magical energy source. He had heard Kujou Sara and that Onishark mention something similar. He knew it was an external organ similar to a magic circuit.
"Use it as you wish. I'll handle it."
By now, the market had become lively, and more and more people noticed that the blacksmith at the Amenoma Smithy had changed.
"What's going on? Is that a new Amenoma-style apprentice?"
"Wow, this new guy… is kind of handsome, what do I do?" His rugged features alone were enough to attract a crowd, not to mention the chiseled lines of his muscles, which were a work of art in themselves.
"What? It's a bet!"
"No way, this new guy… I've never seen him at the Blacksmith's Association."
"Which means this is his first time forging with Tamahagane!"
The news of the Amenoma-style's head apprentice making a bet with a stranger spread like wildfire. This rare event drew many people out onto the streets.
…
"It's been a while since I've been back in Inazuma City… does it feel any different?" a young man with chestnut hair and a red shirt asked his white-haired friend, who was wearing a straw hat. The two stood on a hill outside the city, looking down at the bustling streets.
"It's just as it's always been. The same as when I left," the white-haired man said, then turned to his companion. "But as an exile, a brief glance is enough to satisfy me."
"Don't say that… Look, the Amenoma Smithy seems especially lively today." The chestnut-haired youth tried to console his friend, pointing. The word "Amenoma" made the white-haired boy look up.
"Indeed. That red-haired young man is…"
"We'll know if we go take a look." The chestnut-haired youth reached out, grabbed his friend, and leaped off the cliff.
"Wait!"
As they fell, the straw hat flew upwards. The white-haired boy quickly reached out and grabbed it, the anemo vision at his waist flashing.
Ride the wind—
A gentle breeze lifted their bodies. Urged on by his friend's whim, they drifted towards Inazuma City.
-------
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