Edit: April 23, 2016

So this came out a lot later than I intended, mostly because I kept getting writer's block at the widest places. But that struggle is now over, and this chapter is now done. It's a lot longer than I originally intended it to be, but I think that's okay.

If you've read Seamstress to Star, you probably know that I am a seamstress myself (although, no I am not running my own shop just yet lol!). However, I am not a smith or anything of the sort, nor am I a weapons expert like my dear Tenten. I don't know all that much about fixing weapons and the like, so I did my research to make it as real as I could. Please forgive me if there are any real weapons masters/mistresses out there, and I don't portray some element of weapons handling/fixing/owning correctly. Please feel free to tell me, and I will do my best to change it!

Now on to the story!

Disclaimer: Ní féidir liom féin naruto (Irish)

I'm up before the birds even begin to chirp, long after the smith has gone to sleep. Today is a Saturday, so I will have more time to work on Neji's dagger since the smith takes today off. Still, I work quietly as I slip through the forest behind the small forge and climb through the back window over the scraps heap. Slowly, carefully, I drop to the ground and glance around the dark room. Everything seems to be in its place, and I make my way carefully over to the wood stock and root around for a candle and a piece of flint. It takes a while in the pre-morning darkness, but I get my light and start up the forge, piling the logs high in its belly and feeding the growing flames more brittle kindling. The dagger is still hidden in my work shirt, pressed close to my heart as I get a trough and pad bare - foot across hard - packed dirt to fill it with water. The billows are propped up and put into position besides the forge, and the hammers and calipers I need are laid out on the anvil. Finally, I am ready to work.

I glance out the window, noting how already the horizon is showing just the faintest bit of pink, and pull out the dagger. The deep royal blue sapphire stone in the handle creates the image of a dragon in the white-ivory handle. The pommel is silver, as is the cross-guard. I bring the hilt a bit closer to my eye and see images of leaves and vines twisting and twining though the metal, all the more clear because of the dirt caught in between the fine hand-beaten creases. The locket and chappe of the scabbard are done in the same gorgeous silver decal, and the dragon appears again in reverse colors – the scabbard is royal blue, and the designs are ivory-white.

A quick tug and the blade slides out into my waiting hand with a grating, harsh sound. I slide the knife down just a bit and check the chappe. It's raised on one side, almost letting me see into the hilt. The blade itself is still bent, making that horrid rasping sound against the inside of the scabbard. I sigh. This will be a lot of work.

I put the blade down on the work bench and check the forge. A few more logs get tossed in, along with some coal. I reach to the racks on the wall that hold all of the tools for a pair of forceps, a pack of screwdrivers, and a small paring knife and head back to the work bench with them in tow. I pull a candle closer to me, and take a good long look at the blade.

There are minuscule screws hidden in the intricate design of the pommel and cross guard. Those are screwed tight; if they were loose, they would have been raised from the silver. Yet the blade is still loose. I need to remove the blade from the hilt and find a way to fix the small rivet holes in the tang of the blade so that it will fit snugly again while keeping the balance of the blade.

I reach over and grab a small flat head screw driver and carefully take out the four screws that keep the blade together. The pommel and cross guard slide off a second later, and I easily remove the hilt from the tang. It's as I feared; the rivet holes have been stretched slightly, making the blade rattle in its home. I would have a better chance adding small washers over the area than melting and remaking the entire long axis within the time frame that I have been given.

I jump up and rush to the chest of parts in the corner of the room and sift through all the tiny pieces of metal in the second-level drawer. Every so often I take a washer out and examine it with a critical eye. Some I toss right back into the pile, and some I slide into the hilt with the tang. I need four – one for each side of the tang, and a set for the pommel end and a set for the cross guard end. It takes almost an hour, but I find four that are acceptable. A bit of cleaning, and I can reassemble the blade in its entirety.

But before any of that, I must fix the dent in it and sharpen the blade. Already, the sun says that anyone who is working today should be up and preparing. I open the windows to let some light and fresh air in before putting out a few candles. Only the four in the corners are left alone, as the sunlight would not reach that far into the room, meaning that they alone would light that area

Another check of the forge proves it ready, and I pump the billows to liven the coals again. I grab a heavy leaden work apron and drape it over my neck, tying it behind my back. Leather gloves go on next, thick and long and sturdy, before I grab a set of tongs and carefully pick up the tang of the blade with it. A steady hand lowers the blade over the coals, and I pick up a prod to push a few over the blade as well, to heat it uniformly. The billows pump again, adding air to the smoldering fire, heating the room considerably. Every few minutes I pull the blade out to look at it and put it back.

When the blade glows white - hot I lay it on the anvil and pick up a medium hammer. Gentle taps slowly fix the small flaw in the blade, gradually straightening it out, and I put it back in the fire to heat it again once it cools. Back and forth for another hour until the long axis is once again straight and true. It fully cools in the trough of water, hot steam blowing up into my face, nearly blinding me, bringing the water to a quick boil. Again to the forge, where it's covered with coals again, then to the trough to cool. Forge, trough, forge, trough, forge, trough, hot, cool, hot, cool, hot, cool. I can almost see how the blade strengthens as it goes through the fire again and again. And by noon, I'm at the anvil with the small hammer and the sander, smoothing out the small dents left behind from its pounding.

When I finally put down my tools, the sun is high in the sky and the day has long started for everyone else. I bring the long axis up to my eye and hold it parallel to the ground, checking and turning it to make sure that it is truly straight again. I'm satisfied; it is a straight and deadly line. Now to sharpen the blade's edge.

The grinding wheel is almost as tall as I am when off of its axis. The huge stone is sitting in the corner in its frame, waiting for its next job. I don a pair of goggles and move the foot pedal out from underneath the frame, careful not to cross or step on any free wires. The gloves are still on as I lay the edge of the blade flat against my palm and against the wheel. A few small pumps of the pedal and the wheel is spinning spinning spinning away, trying to wrench the long axis out of my grip. I apply gentle pressure to the blade, sending up sparks in all directions. They dance up to the rafters in high spirals like tiny fireflies and jump over my shoulders and head in great arcs like grasshoppers and skitter across the floor small hops like rocks skipped across a river.

I shift the blade back and forth, sharpening all of the one edge, all the way from the spear-point to where the cross guard should cover it, and just a bit further than that. Every so often I lift the blade up to my eye and inspect it for cracks or an uneven grinding. Eventually I flip the blade over, and repeat the process on the other side. This takes another half hour in its entirety, and it is well past noon. I hear the lunch rush die down as everyone returns to work outside the four walls of the forge, and pay them all no heed. I must needs polish the blade, as well as all of the other parts of the dagger.

Back at the work bench, I lay out all of the pieces of the dagger next to each other, in the correct order of assembly. My feet take me to another corner of the forge where I grab a few clean rags, a tiny brush, and a jar of polish and set them down on the table. The cap of the jar comes off, letting a sweet musky scent waft into my face, and I carefully pick up the pommel with a rag. I dip the tip of the brush into the white polish and begin to systematically clean out all of the dirt and grime etched into the intricate design. It proves rather difficult at times, as the pommel itself is hard to hold on to with my rag-covered hand, and the slippery polish does not help matters at all. I'm careful to look for any possible area that could house more dirt, and scrub it all away.

The hilt gets a thorough once - over with the rag, leaving the ivory – and – sapphire glistening in the afternoon sun. The bolster and cross guard get more attention, and I lay them all out on another clean rag off to the side. The long axis itself gets a fine scrubbing with the brush, then another once – over with the now dirty rag. I clean my hands off and pull the other parts of the hilt to me. Screwdriver in hand, I carefully take the washers and slide them into place over the rivet holes and screw the rivets in carefully one by one. By the time I finish that, the blade is secure in its home and well – balanced and beautiful as how I suspect it looked the day it was first made.

On to the scabbard. I carefully unscrew the metal bands that hold the mouth and tip of the scabbard to the ivory – and – sapphire body, and again clean them all one by one. It's about an hour before nightfall when I hold the completed set in front of me, turning it in my hand to inspect my handiwork. The silver once again shines like the sun, and the ivory speaks of serenity while it strikes out against the sapphire blue that proclaims truth and loyalty. The dragons breathe regality and swear protection over valued treasures and the vines and leaves promise a long and strong friendship. I am well pleased with this piece; it is one of my best yet. I can only hope that its owner finds the same pride in its restored state.

I pause for just a second. This is an ornamental dagger that normally symbolizes the status of its wielder. While not usually used in battle, it is as strong and true as any other sword I have ever laid eyes on and could be used to defend or attack if the need ever arose. Its design and intricacy easily prices it at almost three million ryo, more than likely much more than that. Why on earth would Neji ask me to fix this? The blacksmith could have done the same job, and have done it just as well as I.

I frown as I continue to turn the blade in my hand, pondering Neji's motives for asking for me specifically. Thinking back on his character, I note how unlike it would be for him to even own such a dagger. Neji is practical and functional; everything he would use would before the sole purpose of its intended use. An ornamental dagger, even one of such high caliber as this, would not be used by him. Nor would he keep it for display, as it would no longer serve its intended function. My only other assumption then is that he is presenting the dagger to someone else. Whom, I do not know. But then again, that is none of my business, now is it?

I sigh and carefully lay the beautiful dagger down on the table and go fetch a clean linen cloth. This will keep the dagger in pristine condition until Neji comes to reclaim it. Carefully wrapping it up, I place the dagger back against my heart and finish cleaning up the forge, leaving it back in the state I found it in that morning. The polish, brush, and rags all go back in their designated spots, the trough back in its corner, and the other instruments that I have used back in their respective spots on the wall. By the time I am ready to leave, it is as dark out as when I first came. Again over to the window, and slowly I climb over the sill and out into the cool night.

I glance up to see the full moon partially hidden by clouds and the treetops of the forest. An owl hoots off in the distance, and if I listen hard enough, I can just make out the rush of the Ao Inju river. Soft grass and springy moss cushion my footfalls, and the large oak and birch and fir and sequoia trees all welcome me back into their midst. I walk around aimlessly for a while, just listening to the quiet sounds of the night.

The moon spells midnight when the sound of rushing water is too loud to ignore and I finally see a clearing through the trees. My feet take me across the tree line, and I find myself standing at the edge of a small cliff a little more than two stories high. The glade below me is quiet and serene, maybe as big as the town square, and a small tributary of the Ao Inju feeds a sparkling waterfall a few feet to my left. The waterfall drops into a deep pool – not too wide – that then drains into another small river, leaving almost two – thirds of the secluded glade in relative peace. The moonlight bounces off the crystal waters, making fairy - dust in the air and a perfect silver orb in the pool.

I take a deep breath, smelling wood and grass and water and life, and sigh to myself. This place is my own.

"Well, well, well, Jirobo, and what do we have here?"

I spin around quickly at the sound of the arrogant female voice from the forest behind me. A petit redhead emerges from the din of the trees, followed by a man almost twice her height and easily triple her weight. Both are dressed in the army's special operations uniforms, and I can see the glint of metal partially concealed on their forms. The girl sneers at me, looking down her nose with a hand on her hip. The man strides forward and stares me down.

"Dunno, Tayuya, looks like a little field mouse to me," he rumbles in reply to his companion. A meaty hand clamps down on my head, pulling at my twin buns, nearly lifting me off of the ground. My mind screams for me to move move move, but my body does not respond, doing little more than hang limply from where the large man holds me. He takes two steps forward, dangling me over the edge of the cliff. A fall from this height, over land or water, could easily kill me. Yet my body still refuses to respond.

"Listen, girlie, You have something we want. Give it up, or…" the man snarls at me, "you die."

My voice comes out as barely a whimper. "I don't know what you're talking about." My eyes plead with him for mercy while I curse myself in my head. All those days spent practicing the art of self-defense, and in the one moment I need it the most, I lose my nerve and become as meek as a field mouse.

The readhead appears in front of me a second later, and her fist ends up in my stomach. "You little lying bitch," she hisses at me as I cough and choke on my own breath. The taste of metal floods my mouth, and I screw my eyes tight, wishing that this nightmare would just end.

I hear the man scoff. "Don't waste your time, Tayuya, and watch your mouth. I'm sick of hearing how filthy it is."

Tayuya sniffs back at him. "Fine, whatever. Give her to Kidomaru and Sakon. Let them deal with her." I hear her stalk off, back into the forest, and the man holding me, Jirobo, gives a sharp whistle. I don't know who the other two characters are, but I doubt that they will be any nicer to me than Tayuya or Jirobo are. All I'm hoping for right now is that Jirobo will let me go and that my body will remember how to run once he does.

Jirobo does let me go. He flings me over the edge of the cliff. A feeling of weightlessness overtakes me, and for the smallest fraction of a second, I feel as though I am afloat in water. And then I fall through the air, watching the moon turn the sprays of water from the waterfall into fairy - dust around me. My body still won't move, so I can't even try to land in a roll. Instead I just brace for the impact and the agonizing pain that will come with it once I land.

That landing never comes, though, because a white rope circles my waist and yanks on my airborne form, changing my trajectory. I'm yanked backward and end up trapped against a tree, my head flying back so hard that I can feel the warm trickle of blood creeping past my hairline. My vision swims, and it's like looking through black cloth for how much I can see. A hand grabs my hair again and yanks my head up, and I nearly cry from the pain. Another hand grabs my chin roughly and shakes me until I semi - focus my eyes in front of me.

"She still awake Sakon?" a nasty voice cuts through my delirium.

"Yes, Ukon, you idiot, she's still awake," another voice snarls at the first. The hands gripping my head release me, and I groan. Slowly, my vision clears, and I see another blue - silver haired man.

With two heads.

Fear and panic finally takes over my body, and I scream. Adrenaline is poured into my systems, and everything becomes sharper and clearer. The bark of the tree that I'm bound to scratches at my exposed arms and calves and pulls at my shirt. I feel the sticky rope pressing Neji's dagger into my sternum as I stare at the double - grin of my captor. Or captors. Every blade of grass and tree leaf stands out in sharp relief, and I notice a small movement in my peripheral vision. Another figure emerges – a brunette with six arms – and spits at me.

"Shut up, will you? No one can hear you all the way out here, and you know that little girl. Now," he pulled something from behind his back and held it against my neck. I felt the tan material scratch at my skin. If he applied any pressure with that, he could quite literally rip out my throat with a single swipe. He leans close, and the sickly sweet smell of alcohol rides his breath.

"Where is the book?"

I close my eyes again and try desperately not to cry. "I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!" What book could they want? Why on earth would I have it? Why would they want it? Why go so far as to nearly kill me to get it?

The jagged blade presses into my throat, and I wince as it draws blood. "You annoy me, you know that little girl?" the eight - armed man drawls at me. "And you've exhausted my patience. I'd normally play around for a bit, but I'm in a rush and you piss me off. Where is the book?"

"Kidomaru," one of the silver - white heads calls, "what if she really doesn't know about the book?"

"We can't just let her go, no can we?" eight – arms – Kidomaru – answers. "We kill her."

This barely registers in my mind, because just as Kidomaru backs up another figure drops down in front of me from the treetops. Stark white contrasts with a dark apron, and long hair tied close to the end flows down gracefully. I recognize the stance he stands in; it is the Hyuuga technique Gentle Fist. I've only seen it once, while hiding in the trees myself years ago.

"You are not fit to call yourselves human beings, much less soldiers, if you think it right to kill a girl who has nothing to do with you," a silky baritone rolls through the night. It's a voice I know; I've etched it into my mind from the first time I heard it over a week ago.

Hyuuga Neji.

Eight - arms brandishes the knife he was going to use on me and falls into his own battle stance. Sakon and Ukon follow his example a few paced behind his comrade. The trees rustle, and Jirobo and Tayuya fall in line next to them, slipping into their own fighting stances. Nothing was said for the longest moment, and I used the time to pray for Neji. As good as he was, he was outnumbered and unarmed as far as I knew. These people's abilities and strengths were an unknown, and my fear spiked when I realized that there was a good chance that the both of us would be killed tonight.

Upon an unspoken word and unseen command, all hell broke loose.

Kidomaru throws his knife straight at Neji, and pulls out six more in an instant. Neji kicks a small rock up off of the ground and catches it in his hand, using it to knock the knife off course toward Sakon and Ukon. In another instant Jirobo is bearing down on him as the two - headed man dodges the knife, and Neji catches Jirobo's large hand with his own. He spins behind the larger man as more of Kidomaru's knives come flying at him, using Jirodo's body as a human shield. An agonized groan comes from the larger man's mouth, and Neji pushed him out of the way as Tayuya launches her own attack.

Neji slams a palm into her sternum, and sweeps his foot across her ankles, making her fall back and hit her head on the forest floor. She slumps next to me, eyes unfocused and glazed over, and I nearly scream again because never before have I been so close to death or experienced such a merciless end. I tear my eyes away and focus back on Neji. Sakon and Ukon were rushing at Neji. He catches their outstretched arm and twists it behind their back even as Kidomaru rushes in with his own weapon at the ready. Neji again uses his captive as a human shield, killing the two in a single blow. Kidomaru backs away from the body of his comrade with a look of utter fury and spins around to look for Neji, who had vanished from his sight for a second.

Neji appears behind Kidomaru, holding his own kunai against the other man's neck. "You've lost," he says as Kidomaru relaxes, accepting his defeat. I see the flash of Neji's hand as he hits a pressure point on Kidomaru's neck, and the other man falls to the ground with grit teeth.

"Damn you," he spits as Neji straightens up and turns to me. I'm close to hyperventilating, fear for Neji's life as well as my own sending me into a state of fight - or - flight, despite the fact that I can physically do neither. Neji, to his credit, is barely winded as he walks towards me calmly.

"Are you alright?" he asks me as he begins to saw at my bonds. For the first time I notice how I tremble, my hands shaking badly. One hand gets free, and then the other, and Neji begins to work on the ropes holding my legs to the tree. I look around the battleground, somehow saddened to know that three people have died because of me. My eyes land on Kidomaru, who is still glaring at Neji. I barely catch the small twitch of muscle, but that is enough to tip me off. I grab the kunai out of Neji's hand and push him out of the way the second he cuts me loose and in a moment it's left my hand, flying towards Kidomaru, who has thrown his last knife at Neji.

The other man lets outs a strangled cry as the blade hits home and sinks deep into his forehead. Kidomaru's knife strikes the tree an inch away from my body with a hallow thud and a few leaves fall from the tree top. Neji is next to me in another instant, holding my shoulders to steady me. My breathing is loud in my own ears. Neji is speaking to me, asking me something, but I don't know what he's saying. It's too loud, so I just weakly nod as I pitch forward. I reach into my robes and pull out Neji's dagger, making to return it to him, but he shakes his head and presses it back to my chest.

A moment later he's swooped me off of my feet, pushing my head under his chin, and walks away. I still don't know what Neji has asked me, but I find that I don't really care at the moment, not anymore. His stride is long and his heartbeat rings in my ear, coaxing me off to sleep. I fight it off for as long as I can, but the early morning light is coming and I've been awake for so long and I fall asleep anyway.

A/N: this is the second chapter, and I feel good about it! (even though I kinda suck at fight scenes...) Tell me what you think about it! Summer's coming, so I should be able to upload a new chapter almost daily. Review!

Edit: April 23, 2016

So yes, I will do a breakdown of the terms that I used in this chapter. But first, let me do a quick translation. The river that I mentioned in this chapter, the Ao Inju, is in no way real. It literally just means blue ribbon. The Blue Ribbon River, because I am completely corny that way.

Now, for the dagger, I used the 19th century Armenian dagger mold. There's a link to the website that I used for the parts reference posted on my profile, since does not seem to like URL's. Otherwise, you can continue on your merry way. Just be warned, the next chapter hasn't been done as of today. I'm trying for another chapter of this story, then the other stories later on. So yeah, like, review, follow, and share!

Stay safe everyone!