Chapter 4: Never Argue With Mothers. Or Blacksmiths. Or Old Women. Shinigami On The Other Hand...

1944 – 1946

Ever since the old blacksmith had given him the sword, Sasuke carried it around with him everywhere. Nobody questioned it much—well, with the exception of some of the children—likely already knowing who had made it. Sasuke learned quickly that in small villages, word traveled fast.

When he had first come home with it, Genji had grinned at him and Anna had told him not to have his weapons at the dinner table. Then she had admonished Eita for not eating when he spent too much time ogling the blade that sat in the corner.

The blade wasn't quite useful at work, however, and so Sasuke had figured he'd leave it at the house. After the incident in which Mio got a little too close to the blade, Anna had threatened to kick him out if he left it in the house again. She was… actually quite terrifying. He supposed that if Mio was in the picture, her motherly rage came out. (He'd seen her go off on Eita once before. Let's just say that as long as she never turned that on him, he would be able to live another day.)

But even aside from that, there was something almost comforting about having the sword at his waist. It was familiar. He usually wielded blades with his right hand—having tested a few for Jirou in the past—and since his left was useless anyways it was really his only choice. His right hand rested on the hilt and sheath of the blade as he walked. Eita and his friends, evidently, thought it looked cool. (He had seen them imitating him once when they thought he wasn't around.) Sasuke just thought it was comfortable.

He had taken to training regularly, often going on jogs that usually ended up with him crashing into something. It was coming home after one of these sessions that Anna stood in the doorway, her disapproving expression zeroing on him.

He did his best not to look guilty as he reached her. "Am I late for dinner?" He asked, feigning innocence as he glanced up at the sky. It was still early afternoon.

"No." She sounded snippy, but then she did a one-eighty, a bright smile on her face and a honey sweet tone in her voice.

"What have you been doing all day?" She asked, still smiling. It took all of Sasuke's courage not to run for it.

"Taking a walk."

Her smile got brighter, and Sasuke shrunk in on himself. Just a little.

"And what kind of walk gives you a cut on your forehead?" She raised an eyebrow skeptically as Sasuke blinked, right hand reaching up to touch his temple. He looked down to see his fingers covered in blood.

"…Oh."

Anna sighed, grabbing him by his yukata and dragging him inside, her loose brown hair brushing his nose as she turned around. She let go of him once she had him standing in front of one of the rickety wooden chairs, pointing to it firmly.

"Sit."

He sat.

Anna practically stomped through the house, grabbing a rag that she dunked under water and some of the few spare bandages she kept in the house for emergencies. (From what Sasuke could tell, feeling the area with his fingers, it wasn't actually that bad, but it wasn't like they had the proper bandages for it. Even if they did, Anna would probably go overboard anyways.)

She returned, grabbing a chair and dragging it forward so she could sit in front of him, wiping away the blood with a rough hand. Sasuke tried to pull away, but she grabbed his chin with her other hand, holding him still as she continued cleaning his face. He couldn't help but feel somewhat like a child.

When she finally set the towel down, clicking her tongue momentarily at the cut that was no doubt visible now that the blood was gone, she began the lecture.

"I don't know what you're doing that's causing you to come home with all these cuts and bruises, but I wish you'd consider the consequences." She sighed, and Sasuke opened his mouth to respond, but she continued speaking before he could. "I know you can take care of yourself, but Eita and the other children look up to you. There aren't many people your age around here, as I'm sure you've seen, and they all admire you. What will you do if one of them tries to imitate you and ends up getting seriously hurt? We don't have a trained medic around here. The closest doctor is over a day away." She paused, taking a breath. She had finished wrapping his head up with the bandages, but her hands didn't leave, eyes sad as she cupped his face, gently tilting his head around as she examined his face. "You are so much like him…" She murmured, so quietly that it took Sasuke another moment to register that he hadn't been imagining that.

"Like who?" She smiled, melancholy welling up in the tears that didn't fall.

"My fiancé. Most people don't remember their life back in the World of the Living… but I remember how much I loved him." She brushed some of the hair away from his face, kissing his forehead before standing up. "Now go find Genji, will you? He has Mio and it's almost time for her nap."


"Hello, Sasuke! Shopping for Anna again?" The woman smiled brightly at him, her short black hair falling into her face. She huffed momentarily, trying to blow it out of her eyes. When that didn't work, Sasuke reached out, tucking it behind her ear for her, as he did most times he shopped. She smiled sheepishly. "Thank you. I honestly don't know how Anna does it."

Ishii Asuka was the lady that sold fruit to the entire village. Her never present husband worked on their meager fruit fields constantly. There were rumors amongst the children that he didn't even exist, according to what he'd heard from Eita. She cradled her baby in her arms, as if he was a porcelain doll. Unlike Anna and Mio, Asuka and her baby had crossed over together, thus the baby was actually of her blood. Sasuke wasn't sure if the same went for her husband, but he never felt it quite right to ask.

He looked at the rickety little stall. There wasn't much of a selection this week, only a few overripe oranges and a couple small apples. Asuka laughed at the look on his face.

"I'm sorry; we actually had quite a haul, thanks to the recent rain, but I'm afraid all the best stuff was all sold this morning. This is all we've got left." Sasuke sighed, but took the rest of the fruit nonetheless, handing over some of the yen left over from his pay. While he didn't get paid much—that old coot was such a scrooge—he still had more than the little that Anna had saved up. She had told him the money was free for him to use, but every time Sasuke did have to use the money, he got plagued with a sense of guilt for the rest of the week until he managed to make enough to pay it back. (Not that she knew that part, but ignorance is bliss after all.) That money was probably cursed.

"Thank you! Have a nice day, Sasuke!" Asuka smiled brightly at him as he walked away, wicker basket in his working hand, and if it weren't for her baby, she'd probably be waving at him. As it was, she made up for it with enthusiasm. "Oh, and I hope your arm feels better soon!"

Sasuke sighed. Let it not be said that most of the villagers were medical experts.

"And stay out!" Jirou's voice snapped, sounding more annoyed than usual, and Sasuke blinked as up ahead, Eita landed in the dirt road just outside the shop. He picked up his pace, stopping several feet away from the groaning boy. Eita's friends beat him to it, the four of them standing over him.

"I told you so," muttered the black-haired one with the runny nose. He sounded just a tad resentful.

"Shut up, Nori! Can't you see he's in pain?!" The brunette in the raggedy red kimono snapped, glaring at the boy before her gaze turned back to Eita worriedly. Sasuke's lips quirked up in amusement as he continued to watch the kids. It seemed Eita was popular with the girls already.

"You shouldn't talk to your elders like that." The boy, 'Nori', snipped back, raising his nose pompously.

"You're only six months apart." The other boy present pointed out, snickering. Nori glowered at him when the girl in the red kimono puffed her chest out triumphantly.

Eita groaned again, pushing himself to a sitting position. "Will you guys just shut up and help me up?" The boys snickered as the girl helped him up. The last member of their group, a somewhat older-looking girl with blonde hair, spotted him watching them, pointing him out to the others.

Eita's countenance brightened as he ran over, his friends trailing behind him more nervously. "Sasuke-nii! What are you doing here?"

Sasuke held up the bag in his hands. "Shopping. Why were you at the shop?"

The boy's lips twisted into a pout as he glowered back in the direction of the shop. "That stupid old coot kicked me out for asking him to apprentice me." Sasuke simply raised an eyebrow, silently encouraging the boy to go on. "I wanted to learn blacksmithing like you, Sasuke-nii, but that bastard won't even listen to what I have to say!"

Sasuke set the basket down to grab Eita's cheek and twist, the boy reaching for his hand and shouting objections.

"Ow ow ow! What was that for?!"

"Anna would wash your mouth out with soap if she heard you say that." The older teen pointed out, picking up the basket again.

"We don't have soap." Eita grumbled, and Sasuke decided to take pity on him and ignored that comment.

"If you can't apprentice with Jirou, why not apprentice with someone else? I hear Yokoyama-san has been looking for one recently."

"But I wanna do what you do, Sasuke-nii! Making weapons is so much cooler than making some old chair!" He was defiant, that was for sure. Sasuke wondered if he was as stubborn and exasperating as Eita was at that age.

Upon seeing the wrinkles in the boy's forehead, Sasuke did the first thing that came to mind. He took a finger, poking the boy in the wrinkles hard enough for him to step back, hand covering the area.

"What was that for?!"

"I'd rather have a chair than a weapon. Just think about it." He replied, walking away with a wave. He had to finish the shopping before dinner, after all.


When Eita came home saying Wakama-san wanted to see him, Sasuke really wasn't sure what to think. Since the incident in the forest, the villagers had stopped asking him for errands, likely knowing about his arm. (Although, he still had people telling him to "get well soon", even though he was as well as he was going to get.)

Nonetheless, he figured he may as well go see what she needed, so Sasuke gave Eita a poke in the temple as thanks—really, he just enjoyed the boy's reactions; he always gets so upset that it's become pretty funny—before leaving the house.

Her house wasn't far, and he traced a path he hadn't walked in quite a while.

He rapped on the frame of the doorway, her voice calling out from inside. "Come on in!" He entered, finding a bowl of fresh tomatoes already waiting for him on the low table. He sat on one of the raggedy cushions, not seeing the old woman anywhere. He figured he may as well take the chance and grabbed a tomato.

Only a few moments passed before the old woman came shambling in from the backdoor, beaming upon seeing him. "Well if it isn't Sasuke! You've still got that damn fine ass I hope!" She cackled, and Sasuke deigned not to answer. It was better not to humor her, he found.

"You asked for me?" He said instead, getting right down to business. Wakama-san smiled, nodding to herself as she too sat.

"Ah, yes. My feet have been hurting me all day, so I was hoping you could make a delivery for me." She pulled out a small box wrapped in a flowery cloth from underneath the little table, setting it with a heavy 'thunk' on the wood. Sasuke wondered what the hell could be in it. "You know where little Momoka's home is, yes? It has the peach tree out front."

Sasuke sighed, but reluctantly stood as he finished off the tomato he'd been eating before picking up the box by the knot of the cloth tied around it. He wondered again what could possibly be in there.

He gave Wakama-san a small bow before departing, the old lady calling after him, "And don't you dare drop that! It's my special recipe!"

Special recipe of what?

Nonetheless, he did know where the house was. It wasn't all that far from Genji's place, perhaps a little over five minutes away. It stood apart from the rest of the shoddy houses due to the peach tree that sat out front. Unfortunately, the tree was practically dead, as Sasuke had only seen a single flower on the tree. He didn't know how long it had been there, but it had yet to bloom. Evidently, whatever peaches the tree had once produced were long gone.

Like the rest of the village, they had no door, so when Sasuke reached the place, he rapped his knuckles on the wood of the door frame to announce his presence. "Come in!" An older man's voice called. He sounded older, perhaps in his fifties. Sasuke's initial guess was confirmed as he ducked under the raggedy curtain that served as the door to see a middle-aged man seated on the floor. He was kneeling before a small picture of a smiling woman.

Upon Sasuke's entry, he smiled wearily, standing slowly, almost painfully. "Hello, young man. I don't believe we've met before."

"Sasuke," the visitor said, bowing in greeting. The middle-aged man smiled a little wider.

"Oh, you must be Jirou-san's apprentice. I've heard a lot about you. I'm Kouno Daisuke. It's a pleasure to meet you. So what can I do for you?"

Sasuke lifted the box in his hand. "I have a delivery from Wakama-san." Daisuke's eyes crinkled in delight as he took the box, carrying it gingerly.

"Ah, thank you. Umeko-san brings these around for us every other year, when she can. They're a present for my wife." A sinking feeling in Sasuke's gut told him where the wife was. He watched, feeling out of place as the man knelt in front of the little picture once more, setting the box between him and the picture. He unwrapped the cloth from around the box and removed the lid, as if it were a ritual. For him, it probably was. "Look, dear. Umeko-san brought your favorites." He took something out of the box, and Sasuke tilted his body just a little to see around the older man.

The supposed delivery was namagashi, a box of them. In front of his wife Daisuke placed a rabbit-shaped one before the picture, kissing the forehead of the woman in the picture before standing once more, the now open box in hand.

"Would you like one?" Daisuke asked, startling the Uchiha, who blinked owlishly in the man's direction.

"I don't wish to be impolite."

Daisuke shook his head. "Nonsense. Umeko-san made an extra one this year. Besides, my wife would be upset with me if I didn't share these with the person so kind to deliver them for us." He held out the box, and resignedly, Sasuke looked inside the box.

There were only five of the miniscule sweets in the box—which didn't explain how the box was so heavy—six if he included the little rabbit now sitting before the picture. There was a little peach, a paper samurai's helmet, a peach tree blossom, a bird, and a little tomato. Sasuke smirked at the old woman's sense of humor as he took the tomato-shaped sweet. While he wasn't big on sweets, it had been so long since he'd had a little delicacy of any sort that he relished in the flavor of the sweet bean paste.

Daisuke smiled wide at the sight of Sasuke's face. "Umeko-san knows someone in one of the noble houses that owes her. She's always given us these, since my wife loved them." He gestured with his head towards a little doorway on the side of the room. "Why don't you come and meet the rest of our family with me?"

The man was almost aggressively friendly, so Sasuke complied. The doorway led to a larger room filled with people. This room appeared to have all the amenities, from the old futons folded up in the corner to the table on the other side of the room, with a few plates, bowls, and chopsticks were stacked up to use.

At the table sat Momoka, with her brown hair and eyes and pale skin. She wasn't hiding the way she did the few times he had seen her, smiling at the dark-skinned boy running around in the middle of the room with a rather scraggly-looking black dog. Sasuke raised a brow; where had they found a dog? More importantly, how were they able to keep it?

Across the table from Momoka was an older woman, not quite as old as Umeko but surely older than Genji, with a stern expression and a stiff posture. She was the first to notice the two of them enter the room, looking disapprovingly at Sasuke.

"And who might this be, Daisuke?" The boy and Momoka looked up in surprise, though the former was interrupted as the dog jumped him, sending him backwards on his butt.

Daisuke simply smiled patiently in the face of the old woman's withering stare. "This is Sasuke, Jirou's apprentice."

Sasuke figured he should at least bow, even if the old hag was crabby as hell. She scoffed in the face of his peace-making attempts. "That old coot's? Bah." Sasuke's eyebrow twitched as he reigned in his annoyance. Daisuke didn't even blink, still smiling. Sasuke silently commended him for it.

"He delivered Umeko-san's namagashi." To prove his point, he set the box on the table, just in front of the woman. She didn't even pause to look at it, taking the bird and popping it into her mouth.

The boy ran up to the table, not heeding the woman's disapproving scowl as he grabbed the samurai helmet and ate it. He then grabbed the peach, running over to Momoka.

"Here ya go, nee-san!" His voice was muffled due to the treat he had yet to swallow. Momoka simply took the peach-shaped sweet with a small smile.

"Fumio, introduce yourself." Daisuke admonished lightly, and the boy made a point of groaning in annoyance before trotting up to Sasuke, the dog on his heels.

"I'm Ando Fumio, and this is Ken!" He gestured to the dog beside him. "Eita talks a lot about you, nii-san." Sasuke blinked, and Fumio snickered before running past him and out the door with the dog.

The older woman huffed. "My name is Hasegawa Eri. I run this household."

"Pleasure to meet you," Sasuke mumbled in reply.

Eri gave him a hard look before turning to Daisuke. "Daisuke, I wish to speak with you. Privately." Sasuke took the cue, making a quick exit.

He had just stepped back out into the road when a tug on the sleeve of his yukata stopped him. Turning around, the Uchiha saw Momoka, looking nervously at her feet. When he stopped and turned, she dropped her hand, fiddling with them instead.

'Thank you', she mouthed, and Sasuke suddenly understood.

He let his lips quirk upwards, resting his good hand softly atop her head. He could feel her jump, looking up at him with big doe eyes. She was probably about his age, but she acted a lot like a child. "You're welcome. Next time, don't be afraid to ask me something."

She smiled brightly, cheeks going rosy as she nodded enthusiastically, her hands moving rapidly. Sasuke blinked, somewhat surprised. Sign language. She ended with her flat palm coming off her chin, and Sasuke understood that sign from her expression.

Thank you.


Sasuke sighed, stepping back from the fire as he held his newest creation up to the meager light, turning it this way and that. It took a while, trying to balance the weight and shape the blade just right, but he felt that this time, he had done it right.

The blade, more like a dagger, was practically black in color, the hilt just large enough for one's fist. The other end was rounded off in a small ring, smaller than that of the ones Jirou made. Unlike Jirou's kunai, he had made the blades thicker, more diamond-shaped before tapering off into a point, rather than the flat knife-like look of the kunai sold at the shop. It couldn't slash like Jirou's, but was rather designed more for thrusting and stabbing.

He tested it, throwing it across the room. It landed with a thud, embedding itself into the table. Pride swelled up within him as it stayed there, firmly. He had successfully recreated the kunai he remembered.

Sasuke picked up the blade, throwing open the curtain that separated the forge from the shop. If the man was feeling generous today, he'd give Sasuke permission to create his own stock of kunai with whatever leftover metal they had.

He stopped short, seeing him talking to a group of people. They were dressed differently from the usual villagers and passing travelers, not that Sasuke hadn't seen their kind once or twice before. They dressed in the black kosode and hakama characteristic of Shinigami, and if that weren't enough to give them away, the white tabi and straw waraji sure did. Most of the villagers didn't have shoes, and those that did lacked the tabi—or at least, they lacked intact ones. As Sasuke got closer, he could see a white shitagi underneath the kosode.

While Sasuke had heard a lot about Shinigami, though he'd only see them once when they'd passed through the village a few years ago, and even then they hadn't stopped to socialize.

Jirou was speaking to a young man—perhaps around Anna's age—with spiked up black hair and a white sleeveless haori. There was something about him that annoyed Sasuke. Perhaps it was his face.

Jirou looked annoyed, and as Sasuke got closer, he could see why.

"I told you before and I'll tell you again. I've got nothing to sell you." The Shinigami in the haori frowned.

"Well, this is quite the dilemma. There aren't any other blacksmiths nearby, so you're the only one we can go to." Even his voice was annoying. Sasuke scowled, walking up to them and interrupting what was definitely an unwanted conversation.

"There's nothing for you here, so piss off already." Sasuke groused—he briefly wondered when he'd started sounding like Jirou—which effectively caused them all to turn to him.

One of the other Shinigami glared at him. "And who's this brat?" He sneered, eyes narrowed almost suspiciously.

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer when Jirou stepped in, placing a firm hand on Sasuke's shoulder. He gave the teen a look that very clearly said 'shut the fuck up'.

"This is my grandson." Jirou replied, scowling at the man.

The Shinigami sneered again. "It seems insolence runs in the blood."

The leader of the group waved him off with a sigh. "Well, if we're not wanted we may as well leave. Sorry for troubling you, Jirou."

Jirou sighed as well, though this time it was more exasperated than anything else. "Just don't come back Shiba." The black-haired Shinigami laughed, as if the blacksmith was referencing an old joke, before waving his crew out.

As soon as they were out of eyesight, Sasuke whirled around to face Jirou, effectively removing the hand from his shoulder. "What was that all about?" He asked, voice a deadly calm.

Jirou scowled, not answering but waving at him to follow the man. Sasuke glared at him, but nonetheless joined him in the forgery, throwing the curtain closed.

"So?"

He watched the blacksmith sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in either irritation or exhaustion. Perhaps a combination of both. "I suppose no one's told you yet." He muttered.

"Told me what?" Sasuke pressed; he was starting to get really tired of this really fast.

Jirou pressed his lips together disapprovingly, but eventually responded. "To put it bluntly, you shouldn't call yourself an Uchiha."

Sasuke opened his mouth, paused, and blinked. "I—What?"

Jirou scratched the back of his head, for once seemingly at a loss. "Several years ago, the Uchiha clan prospered in District 1 of North Rukongai. No one knows exactly how they all came to be, but their various skills helped to quickly create enough wealth to rival some of the noble clans. After frequent clashes with the noble clans and some other things I won't get into, they began to ostracize themselves." He paused, eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be anger. "The official story is they were planning a coup against the Seireitei and thus were executed."

Sasuke waited, but the man didn't continue. Cold sweat dripped down the back of his neck. "If that's the official story… what's the real one?"

Jirou's voice lowered so quietly that Sasuke had to strain to hear it over the crackling of the fire. "They were massacred by the Shinigami. Plain and simple." He growled, his voice practically enraged. Almost as if… it was personal.

Sasuke took a shuddering breath and asked the question he didn't want to know the answer to. "And how do you know that?"

Jirou shook his head, a sad look in his eye. His shoulders sagged with the weight of the world on them. "How do you think, boy? My name is Uchiha Jirou."


I told you you'd be seeing some Bleach characters soon! :)))) I mean, given that you're caught up on at least the anime, you should know who it is...
But Jirou and reverse psychology haha. I'm not a big fan of some parts of this looking back on it, but it's too late to change it, and they won't affect later chapters possibly so it's fine.

Some more words for you:

Namagashi – Traditional Japanese sweets. They're made of rice flour and a sweet bean paste filling, usually served for tea ceremonies. They're delicately shaped by hand to reflect the season, though many are shaped in fun things like cats. They may also be filled with things other than sweet bean paste.

Kosode – that's basically the black shirt Shinigami wear, to put it in simple and probably incorrect terms.
Hakama – AKA the pants.
Tabi –
the white socks Shinigami have
Waraji –
the straw sandals.
Shitagi –
the white undershirt Shinigami wear.
Haori – I'm sure most of you know what this is, but for those who don't, it's the white overcoat the Captains wear.

And a fun fact for future reference, for those who don't know, the uniform as a whole is known as a Shihakusho.