Hmmm....
OMAKE: Treat Yourself
Today was a good day.
For the first time ever, you'd beaten Gai-sensei in a fight.
Admittedly, he had spotted you a handicap-if you counted multiple weights, a movement prohibition and only using one arm as a handicap- and you were allowed to break out your entire arsenal of weapons.
Still counts, though, as proof, to yourself, if no one else, that you were making progress towards your dream.
Even if Neji disagreed. Stupid Hyuga.
But for the moment, you had to content yourself with small victories. And so you were going to treat yourself.
The thoughts buoyed you as you walked in the entrance of Kureji Rippa's Arms Emporioum, the dry air of the outside replaced by the familiar smell of weapons oil and leather as you step it into a veritable shrine to melee weaponry.
You walk past the serried ranks of black shuriken and kunai, past the senbon aisle, until you end up in the specialty weapons section.
Today, you were looking for something special.
You stare at a black-hafted naginata in a display case before dismissing it as entirely too long for you.
You stop at a rack of studded tetsubos, half-lifting one before carefully sliding it back into it's stand; you don't have the upper arm strength to wield one of those anyway. You pause to linger over a display case featuring a set of throwing chakram from Wave, admiring the play of light over the rainbow sheen of the metal before regretfully moving on; they cost too much to be throwaway, and you lack the ninjutsu to recall them to your hand.
Someday, maybe, you'll get some.
No you do not have a problem with regards to hoarding collecting weaponry, okay?
It's perfectly reasonable to want at least one of everything.
Stupid Lee.
Then you see it.
Behind the glass of a display case, under it's own lights, you see an unsheathed wakizashi lying on a bed of some sort of fabric.
And it calls to you.
Unabashedly you press your nose against the glass.
Your hand itches to trace the twin dragons on it's blade.
"It's beautiful" you breathe.
"It is, isn't it?" A voice behind you agrees with a note of satisfaction in his voice.
Turning, you see a middle-aged man in pince nez and caftan, brilliant smile splitting his full, luxuriant beard.
You recognize his face as the proprietor, from the weapons license on the wall next to the main entrance, as mandated for every Konoha weapons dealer.
Kureji Hassan.
Mutely you produce and present your identity card; whenever you forgot to wear your hitai-ate, you always had to deal with the indignity of being carded before service. You'd think they'd know your face by now.
Surprisingly, the proprietor waved it off with a "Maito-san's team right? I know who you are."
"What do you think?" He says, motioning to the display case.
"Period wakizashi from the Warring Clans Period, is what it looks like from here, Kureji-san"you opine. " At least fifty years old, though I'd love to know how you've kept it so pristine."
He shakes his head, silver-plated canine flashing in his smile. "Less than six years actually. It's custom work; the person who originally requested it wanted something special for his daughter's birthday. Note the patterning; Sumimoto's the only one I know who can work quite that much detail into chakra metal."
"So why is this beauty still here? She outgrew it?"
His face darkens for a moment. "She never claimed it. The family were Uchiha."
Oh.
You stare through the glass for a few moments more, and then turn to look at him. No doubt in your mind now; you have to have this.
"How much?"
He smiles, and in that moment he resembles nothing so much as a wolf.
A bespectacled wolf, but a wolf nonetheless.
He goes on for a minute about how he's loathe to let the sword go, that it's a reminder of an old customer, and finally quotes a number that makes you blanch. But if you throw in your genin graduation bonus on top of most of your savings...
"Okay."
Kureji stares at you. "You're terrible at this aren't you." In very put out tones.
You look at the merchant in honest confusion. "Terrible at what?"
He sighs. "Never mind."
A quick trip to a bank later, you leave the shop sans most of your savings, but bearing a bill of sale, some weapon oil, two scrolls of shuriken and a case containing the sword and a dragon-entwined scabbard. You aren't sure why Kureji pushed a quarter of the bills you produced back at you, or why he threw in the scrolls of shuriken for free, but given the rate at which you ran through projectiles, you weren't going to turn away free weapons.
He did blush when you hugged him though.
You spend the latter part of the day reading the instructions for care, and -gingerly! carefully!-putting the sword through a few elementary forms. It handled like the dream you thought it would, and the twin dragons on it's surface react to your chakra, changing shades.
You look forward to showing it off to Gai-sensei at training tomorrow.
Only as you turn in to sleep does it actually occur to you:
You don't know how to use chakra flow.
NOTE
That's done.
Still need to find another 4XP to finish off Master of Small Manners, but I can hopefully get that done by weekend.
Now to worry about stunting.
Spot the reference, if you can; it's fairly obvious I think.
