"...So," Kagerou said carefully, "does that mean it's finished?"
Haganezuka's mask twitched.
"ARE YOU BLIND OR WHAT?! DIDN'T YOU SEE ME RIGHT HERE?!" Haganezuka roared, veins practically bursting through his neck. "AND YOU STILL ASK 'IS IT FINISHED?' HUH?! RENGOKU-SAN, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR CHILD?!"
"…"
Shinjuro said nothing.
He calmly lifted his teacup and took another sip, as if the furious swordsmith screaming in his courtyard was nothing more than background noise. To be fair, he had already expected something like this the moment he learned what Kagerou had requested.
Two Nichirin blades? Fine. Not unheard of, Uzui Tengen himself was proof of that.
But a kiseru?
That was practically begging for trouble.
Kyojuro, watching the scene unfold, wore a grin far too wide for the situation. He knew his older brother well. Eccentric behavior like this barely registered as strange anymore.
Senjuro remained quiet, eyes following every movement with fascination.
Obanai didn't blink at all.
"So it's done, huh?" Kagerou said casually, stepping closer. "Let me see"
"..."
Haganezuka paused.
For a moment, his shoulders sagged. No matter how angry he was, he was still a swordsmith. Pride and responsibility won out over rage.
With a sharp sigh, he reached into the bag and pulled out the first item, still carefully wrapped in cloth.
"This Nichirin blade's raw material is iro-"
"This kiseru is a work of art. I like it"
Haganezuka froze.
At some point, he didn't even know when, the kiseru was already in Kagerou's hands.
Unwrapped.
Held lightly between his fingers.
Kagerou examined it with a discerning eye, rotating it slowly, thumb tracing the craftsmanship as if he truly understood its construction.
"Y-YOU!!"
Something inside Haganezuka snapped.
Without thinking, his hand shot into his yukata. A concealed knife flashed into his grip, and in a blind surge of fury, he slashed toward Kagerou.
Haganezuka's blade flashed.
The distance was too close.
Too sudden.
Too late.
But Kagerou moved.
Not fast.
Not slow.
He simply… wasn't there anymore.
Like smoke drifting aside when brushed by the wind, his body shifted aside, effortless, natural, as if the attack had never been aimed at him to begin with.
"WATCH OU-"
Haganezuka's warning came too late.
When his vision refocused, a weight rested on his shoulder.
"!!!"
A hand.
Calm.
Firm.
Cold.
A tanto pressed lightly against his side.
Haganezuka stiffened.
He turned his head.
Kagerou was sitting beside him on the engawa.
Relaxed.
One hand still resting on Haganezuka's shoulder.
The other was lazily twirling the kiseru between his fingers, admiring it with genuine interest.
Haganezuka snapped his gaze forward.
No one.
Then back to his side again.
Kagerou was still there.
'Fast…' Haganezuka realized. 'No... too fast'
"Y-You-"
"This one's incredible, an incredible craftsmanship," Kagerou said at last, lifting his gaze to meet Haganezuka's eyes. His tone was calm, almost conversational. "Really fine work"
Then his expression hardened, just slightly.
"But ease up, will you?" he continued. "And seriously, you should do something about that temper"
His eyes flicked briefly to the knife Haganezuka had dropped.
"I almost killed you"
"What do you me-"
*Crack*
A clean sound.
Sharp.
Final.
*Tack*
Haganezuka's Hyottoko mask slid apart and fell to the floor in two perfect halves.
The cut was flawless.
Too flawless.
Silence swallowed the courtyard.
"…Enough, Kage. Don't threaten our guest," Shinjuro said at last, stepping forward and breaking the tension. His voice was firm, carrying the weight of authority. "Especially not a swordsmith"
"Whoops~" Kagerou replied casually, lifting his hand from Haganezuka's shoulder as if he'd merely forgotten his manners. "My bad"
"That was amazing, Kage-nii!" Kyojuro suddenly burst out, eyes blazing with excitement. "You were moving so slowly, but... But also so fast! How did you do that?!"
Senjuro stepped forward, hands clenched, gaze filled with awe. "C-Can I become that strong too… if I learn your Breathing Style, Kage-nii?"
"…So strong," Obanai muttered quietly, eyes fixed on Kagerou as if trying to engrave every movement into memory.
"Tch," Shinjuro clicked his tongue, arms crossing. Whether it was annoyance or reluctant acknowledgment, even he didn't clarify.
Kagerou, however, didn't react to any of them.
His attention never left Haganezuka.
"But I really like your work, Swordsmith-san," Kagerou said calmly, lifting the kiseru slightly. "I can tell just by holding it. The balance, the weight… You put your soul into this"
Hearing that, Haganezuka finally snapped out of his frozen state.
"T-Thank you," he replied, voice stiff, raw, stripped of its earlier fury.
Kagerou nodded once, satisfied.
"Now then," he continued casually, "could I also take a look at my tanto and ninjato?"
"O-Oh! Of course!" Haganezuka straightened immediately, his tone shifting into one of clear respect. "Please, by all means"
He reached into his bag again, far more carefully this time, and began unwrapping the remaining weapons.
The courtyard remained quiet.
But this time, it wasn't fear that filled the air.
It was anticipation.
- A while later.
The cloth wrappings were removed one by one.
First, the tanto.
Then, the ninjato.
As Haganezuka worked, his movements were precise, almost reverent, the way a craftsman treated something that carried both pride and obsession.
"This Nichirin ore was mined from the Sunlit Iron Sand and Ore from the highest mountain that is closest to the sun," Haganezuka began, voice steady now that he was back in his element. "Exposed to sunlight year-round, even during winter. It absorbs solar essence naturally"
He gestured to the tanto first.
"I don't know why Oyakata-sama favored you enough to let you choose two Nichirin ores, but it turned out remarkably well...This one was forged from a denser concentration. Shorter blade, higher purity. Made for precision… and killing blows"
Then the ninjato.
"And this... this was made from ore taken deeper underground. Less exposure, but richer veins. Tempered longer. Folded more times"
He paused, then added grudgingly, "…I don't usually do that"
Finally, Haganezuka held the ninjato out toward Kagerou.
When it settled into Kagerou's hand, something clicked.
The weight.
The balance.
The grip.
It felt… right.
As if the blade had been waiting for him.
"…Incredible," Kagerou murmured. "Just like the kiseru. It feels perfect in my hands"
Haganezuka nodded, clearly pleased despite himself.
"Now," he said, straightening, "please draw the blade. Nichirin blades are also known as the Blades of Color Change. The Blade reacts to the wielder's nature, their breathing, their soul. The color will change based on each indi-"
*Siing!*
The sound was clean, sharp, final.
Kagerou had already drawn the ninjato from its scabbard.
The blade caught the light.
And then...
"…?"
... Nothing happened.
The steel remained its original color.
One minute passed.
Then two.
Five minutes.
Ten.
The courtyard stood frozen.
No glow.
No shift.
No hue creeping across the blade.
Just bare Nichirin steel, reflecting the sky like a mirror.
"…Hmm," Kagerou muttered, tilting the blade slightly, inspecting it from another angle. "Should we be expecting something to happen?"
No one answered.
Kyojuro blinked.
Senjuro leaned forward.
Obanai's eyes narrowed.
Shinjuro's cup paused halfway to his lips.
Haganezuka slowly stiffened.
"…That's impossible," he whispered.
He stepped closer, eyes glued to the blade.
"No wielder has ever failed to trigger a color change. Even the weakest slayers cause something. Red. Blue. Black. Anything"
He pointed sharply.
"Draw it again"
Kagerou shrugged and slid the blade back in.
*Click*
Then drew it once more.
*Siing!*
Still nothing.
The blade remained unchanged.
The silence this time was different.
Heavier.
Haganezuka's breathing grew uneven.
"…It's reacting," he muttered. "I can feel it. The Blade isn't rejecting you… it's just-"
He stopped.
Swallowed.
"…It's not choosing"
Kagerou raised an eyebrow.
"Not choosing?"
Haganezuka slowly looked up at him.
"…It's as if the blade can't decide what color you are"
The courtyard went dead silent.
Even the wind seemed to hesitate.
Shinjuro finally spoke, voice low.
"…That's not normal"
Kagerou stared at the blade again, expression unreadable.
"…Huh," he said quietly. "Guess I really am different"
Somewhere deep within the steel... Something shifted.
But it still did not reveal its color.