Tashigi suppressed a groan as she walked down the Street of Steel. Was every blacksmith and sword-seller closed today? What, was there some kind of local holiday she didn't know about?

The only reason she hadn't given up at this point was because, very far down the street, she could hear the sound of hammer and anvil.

If only the street wasn't so damn long, and so cold. She shivered, despite her thick coat, and wished for a scarf as she followed the sole bit of life that the street seemed to have. Quickly - but still far too long, her freezing ears complained - she came to an open forge. The building was mostly open to the elements, shabby-looking and worn, but the massive forge-fire sent out waves of heat that fogged her glasses and forced her to stop to clean them. She got them back on as quickly as possible, and got a good look at the man working the forge.

What struck her were the eyes - well, eye, the other covered by a thick black patch. Okay, yes, he was stripped to the waist, sweating in the heat from the forge, and quite frankly well-developed, she had eyes even if she didn't want a relationship, but the eye was the important part. His face wasn't anything special - black hair, short and spiky with sweat, a face that was all hard angles barely softened by a short beard - except for it. It was the brilliant green of a gemstone, but despite the grim expression on the rest of the man's face, it was...at peace. Completely, utterly content, as if working in a sweltering forge with freezing cold just a step away was this man's idea of heaven. It was...she wasn't sure what, but it was definitely a little unsettling.

That sole eye fixed on her, and despite herself, Tashigi flinched. An expression that might've been a smirk crossed his face. The hammer rose and fell, and instead of having to face that eye, she looked at what was being hammered into shape on the blacksmith's forge. It looked almost like an axe head, but the loop that would accommodate the axe handle was both the wrong shape and the wrong size for anything even remotely axe-related. It almost looked like you could fit a rifle barrel instead…

The hammer rose, the hammer fell, until with an oddly delicate motion the man flipped the piece into a quenching bucket, and glared at her. "You need something, Marine?" he asked, voice serene.

"Is this your forge?" she asked. "There isn't a sign…"

"Is now. Needed to get some work done," the blacksmith said shortly, retrieving the cooled piece of metal and examining it carefully. Apparently finding it satisfactory, he set it down behind the anvil. "I ask again. What do you need?"

Carefully, she extended Shigure, hilt-first. "I got into a fight with someone using electricity recently," she explained. "I'm pretty sure nothing bad happened to her temper, but I'd rather get a smith to look her over, just to be safe."

"Hm." He took Shigure with surprising gentleness for a man with such blunt fingers. He hefted the sheathed blade carefully. "Shigure, the Rain in Autumn. Graded and Named in 1517. A new blade, by the standards of most, and without much history or weight to it."

Tashigi bit back a snarl at the man's clinical tone, judging her sword so dispassionately. Like it wasn't even worthy of admiration.

"Still. There's a hint of potential there. Her temper is undamaged, and there's a spark...hm. Nearly snuffed out, though. When was the last time she drew blood?"

"I...what?"

"Blood. You know, the thing that comes out of people when you shove a sword into them. Lose too much, they-"

"I know what blood is. Why is whether or not I've cut someone important?"

"I'm merely questioning what you've used this blade for. I assume your questioning means you haven't?"

"I have always," Tashigi said, reining in her temper at the blacksmith's patronizing tone, "prided myself on not needing to hurt people. On using skill to take named blades out of the hands of those who will use them for evil."

"Then why use a sword? You could do the same thing with a truncheon. Hell, I saw your commodore, why don't you use a jutte like he does?"

"Because some day, people will need to be cut down. But until that day…"

"You hone your skill, to demonstrate how much better you are." The blacksmith took a breath. "I misjudged you, then...what is your name?"

"Tashigi. Yours?"

"Herman." He handed Shigure back to her. "It's a good blade. If you won't shed blood with it, make a story out of that. That, more than the steel, makes a blade."

"Most blacksmiths don't know so much about swords," Tashigi said. "How do you? Are you a swordsman?"

The blacksmith laughed. "Hardly. Never will be, never want to be. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get to work on another project. Stick around, if you want, this cold is nasty."

Tashigi took the invitation for what it was, and leaned against one of the beams that held up the forge's roof as the blacksmith went back to work, beginning to hammer a bar of steel into shape. Under the man's careful blows, a sword began to take shape - and not one Tashigi was familiar with. It was double-sided, with a thick blade, and oddly short for a sword...but not, Tashigi realized, for an oversized knife. She looked at the stacks of oddly-shaped axe-heads. They seemed built on about the same scale.

"What's all this stuff for?" she asked, as the blacksmith quenched the completed blade and started a new stack with it.

"You know the eight-foot-tall guys wandering about town now in armor?" the blacksmith asked, continuing to hammer. "Turns out, they don't make most weapons on that scale. Knives especially. The ones with the shields are all good on close-quarters stuff, but the ones who actually have decent rifles all want me to kit them out with stuff that isn't full-length swords, or bigger guns with stabby bits on them. Got a partner handling the guns themselves, going to fit the halberd bits onto those and see how that works out."

"That…" Tashigi said, trying to picture a gun-halberd. "That sounds horrendously impractical."

"They're eight-foot-tall super-soldiers, their whole existence is impractical."

Well, for all that he was supplying the Nightmares - who else could make that kind of claim with regards to their crew? - he seemed like a decent guy. Her eyes drifted over the forge, half-closed as the blacksmith's rhythmic blows began to fade out of her hearing, becoming mere background noise. She caught sight of something metal, lurking in the background, and opened her eyes again. A sword, and what looked like a pile of armor. The sword...there was something wrong about it, something that drew the eye and -

Something grabbed Tashigi's wrist, and she startled, realizing she was standing in front of the blade, fingers nearly touching the hilt, the blacksmith's hand around her wrist the only thing keeping her from doing so. She snatched her hand back. "What-?" she said for a moment, before glaring at the massive black sword. "It's cursed, isn't it," she said, her fingers clenching into fists.

"Yes," the blacksmith said.

"What are you doing with a cursed blade? You said you weren't a swordsman."

"I am not. As for the blade...call it an inheritance. Its name is Amakatta, the Berserker's Blade." Phantom laughter rang in Tashigi's ears for a moment, but she shook her head and it vanished.

"Good thing you didn't touch it," Herman continued. "Likely wouldn't have been pretty." Then, as if he hadn't made such an incredibly ominous statement, he picked the sword up, hefting it one-handed and tossing it into the street. It sank into the flagstones and stayed there, and Herman dusted his hands off. "There," he said with a note of satisfaction. "Let it sit out in the cold for a bit, think about what it's done."

"Did you just put a cursed blade worth more than some cities in time-out?" Tashigi said disbelievingly.

"Yup. Like I said, not a swordsman."

"So that means you don't have to show respect for swords?"

Herman smiled. "Precisely, Marine."

Tashigi narrowed her eyes. "Then why care about Shigure?"

Herman laughed. "Oh, you think because I see potential in the blade, I should…what, be nice to every sword? A sword that cannot cut down the enemy isn't even fit to be decoration, it's just a waste of steel. Might as well melt it down and repurpose it."

Tashigi took a step back, fingers twitching. "You...you actually mean that. You'd be willing to destroy something priceless...because it doesn't fit your purposes?"

"Yes."

"It's pointless destruction! It's as near to sacrilege as you can get for a sword! Don't you have any pride in your craft? Any appreciation for something well-made?"

"A smith shatters the ill-tempered tools, Marine, and forges them anew. Swords are just a tool for separating men from their coin and lives, make no mistake on that, and one that lacks the capacity to do even that is ill-tempered no matter the history behind it. I'd be willing to do it? I have," he said, pointing to the pile of armor, the wolfshead helm and the countless pieces of plate. "Furaian the Edged Shield was a failure as a blade, a thing meant solely to defend and that couldn't cut as it should. So I melted it down, and forged out of its steel plate to guard me."

"You...you…" Tashigi growled.

"If you've got a problem with it, I don't give a shit. I don't care about your honor as a swordswoman, I don't care about whatever sentiments you attach to useless relics. I don't even care about your ambitions or dreams. Because at the end of the day, I am not a swordsman. I am Bosque Herman, blacksmith of the Nightmare Pirates, and my job is to break brittle steel to new ends." The blacksmith's grin widened still further, baring sharp canines. "Even you, girl, if you don't have conviction."

A pirate. A stinking, treacherous, blaspheming against every ounce of honor she'd ever had, mocking her with every word, pirate.

Tashigi's vision went red.

I curse the warren-like nature of the streets below as I run across the rooftops, Six held securely in one tendril and C keeping up beside me.

I'd lost sight of Tashigi far too quickly, too many twists and turns in the streets below, too many alleyways and places where buildings crowded around each other. It'd taken fifteen minutes to catch sight and scent of her after one missed turn, and that had cost me a lot.

God damn it, I should've had the common sense to ask where the hell the Street of Steel was before I sent the Oni off to spy on Smoker. Too late now, though.

It's easier to figure out where Tashigi is now, though. The sound of steel clashing on steel is distinctive enough, even more so the sound of thirty-odd Marines panicking.

I vault another rooftop, land just past the edge of another, and clamber up the steep roof, onto the space above the Street of Steel...and pause, watching.

Herman'd gotten stronger, all of us had on Bacanar, training as always...but I'd never really kept an eye on him specifically, too focused on getting the Wolves used to super-strength and taking on the Oni in a brawl. On the journey to Tartarus, judging the strengths and weaknesses of the other captains of the Hunt had taken precedence. And the fight itself...well, I'd had a hunt of my own to deal with, and never gotten an eye on what Herman had been doing.

Clearly I should've. I'd anticipated Tashigi being a match for him. Or at least a contender. And it's achingly clear...she's not even close.

The arena they're fighting in is marked out by bodies - Marines on one side, clearly afraid, Herman's Huscarls on the other, impassive and armored. Off to one side, Amakatta stands, embedded in the cobblestones for some reason. And in the middle...Herman is calmly, impassively, beating the absolute shit out of one of the most decent people I know about.

"Mist Cutter!" Tashigi yells, lashing out in a downward strike. Herman takes the blow on his forearms, Shigure sliding off with a scraping sound, and lashes out in a quick punch to the gut that has the smaller woman staggering back.

"Again," our blacksmith says. "Forged Body. If you are intending to claim the title of swordswoman, you need to be better than this."

I've never heard this kind of serenity from him, before. But there's something in it, an edge I can't quite...oh. Oh.

Something's somehow pissed him off so much he's looped right back around to calm. What the hell did Tashigi say to him? For that matter, what the hell did he say to Tashigi?

Tashigi staggers to her feet, and Herman steps back, completely placid.

Forged Body. Herman was already one of the best in the crew at Iron Body, and with our natural growth being a lot faster...huh. Could he really have figured out how to move while using that technique? Only Jabra could pull that off...but Jabra, for all his training, had been limited by the simple fact his body would have given out after a certain point. Herman, like the rest of us, has been able to avoid that through Vinci's inventions.

Tashigi snarls in anger and lashes out with a blindingly fast combination of overhead slashes, trying to break through Herman's defense and failing miserably. Herman grunts.

"Rivet."

My fingers clench on the edge of the rooftop, crumbling tile between them. Tashigi's body locks up in shock as Herman, holding Shigure in one hand, removes a bloodied finger from her chest, before kicking her in the jaw. She hits the ground hard, but she's still holding on to her sword.

"That broke two of your ribs," Herman says serenely. "Are you insisting on continuing, still?"

Tashigi hunches over, and blood splatters the ground as she coughs, but she gets back up. Shigure trembles in her hands, ever-so-slightly, but she still raises it to point at him.

Damn. I genuinely can't tell who I'm rooting for, here.

Herman sighs. "What are you trying to prove?" he asks. "That a 'true swordsman' can beat someone who doesn't hold to your code? That I'm wrong? Marine, this world was made by men who cut down their enemies. Anything else is dross."

Tashigi takes a deep breath, then opens her eyes, and smiles. "I'm trying to prove...that you can't break me," she says, before holding Shigure low and to her side, a stance that practically telegraphs her strike - upwards across the body, an eviscerating blow, but one vulnerable to counterattacks from a taller or quicker opponent. "But I can break you."

Herman...Herman laughs, and there isn't arrogance in it, but...respect. "Bring it, Marine."

"River Flood."

Tashigi dashes forward in a blur of motion, Shigure lashing outwards and upwards, and though Herman leans back from the strike...I see blood fly, and more tiles crack under my grip. The lean back turns into a fall, and I snarl reflexively, more tails joining the one surrounding Six to steam in the freezing air.

"Peace," Six says. "Watch."

Herman's hand grabs Tashigi's wrist, extended out in her strike, and his fall...stops. His eyepatch drifts to the cobblestones.

"Steel-cutting," Herman says, head still cocked back, the angle too poor for me to see his expression but I know there's a feral grin there. "Impressive."

Tashigi's wrist creaks as his grip tightens, and Herman throws his torso forwards, forehead colliding with her nose. The sound of breaking bone resounds through the street. A knee to the gut, followed by a straight punch to the jaw, and she falls again. Herman's bleeding as well, a thin cut over his eye, draping the entire right side of his face in crimson, but his grin is a pure, blinding, white thing of fangs and malevolence. "Not enough," he pronounces. "Not enough at all."

And Tashigi…

Tashigi sobs, a broken, defeated, raw noise of pain as tears mix with the blood on the cobblestones. "It's always...always going to be like this, isn't it," she says. "Always weaker, always beaten, always the one holding back everyone else." She's on hands and knees, Shigure clenched in one fist. "And no matter what I do...that's what I'll always be. The weakling that everyone says I am. At best, to be taken pity on, men letting me off because I'm some delicate flower. And I hate it, I hate that no matter how long I train or what I study there's always someone like you standing in my way, telling me that my dream is doomed to fail, telling me that there's no worth in honor or pride...so why...why even try...if I can't hope to win, what's the point of my dream?!"

Oh, no…

"What a load of shit," Herman growls, stepping to the side. "Damn you, Marine, what happened to your pride? Your conviction? You're too weak to fulfill your dream? Then grow stronger, and surpass me! Cut down those who say you're wrong until you've made the truth of the world out of their spilled blood and guts!" He grabs Amakatta, wrenching the blade out of the ground. "Stand up, damn you! Stand up, Tashigi, show me power and pride and conviction, show me something I can stand to match blade to blade rather than pointless petty anger! Get up on your own two feet, fight with every waking breath, because if you fold at this, what worth was your dream anyway?!" He holds the massive sword low and back, an opening and a challenge. "Get up, Tashigi of the Navy," he says, right eye glowing with crimson light. "You want to prove yourself, prove you can break me? I have a pulse, so remove my skull. Hack me down, if you can, Tashigi of the Navy, and prove your cause just through the first resort of gods and kings! STAND! UP!"

And slowly, agonizingly, Tashigi does. She holds Shigure's sheathe in one hand, and rams the blade home, watching Herman through cracked glasses as she advances, blood dripping to the ground with every step but she's still moving, her steps steady, her hands without flutter or tremble. And...she smiles.

"Autumn rains come, and the river swells," she begins to intone.

"Forged armor, forged blades, forged life," Herman begins, a challenge clear as day.

"The dam is stone and steel, but cannot hold..."

"All that is made by hammer and will..."

"And the village drowns, when it bursts!"

"Let it be unmade by same!"

"Mist Style Secret Technique: Dam-Breaking Wave!"

"Shatter."

I don't see the blur of movement as the two meet in the middle of the makeshift arena. But I see the aftermath. Blood splatters the cobblestones once again as the sound of rent metal fills the air.

Herman falls to one knee, a cut across his bare chest bleeding freely.

Tashigi hits the ground like a rag doll, a terrible wound across her chest and a gash stretching from ear to mouth along the left side of her face, the shattered remains of Shigure falling to the ground around her.

"In the end," Herman says, getting to his feet with clear difficulty. "It was not conviction that failed you. Only your sword and your strength, and those can be improved. Remember that, for the next time we meet."

"I...will…" Tashigi gasps, before her eyes flutter closed.

Herman grunts. "Okay, theatrics done now, can someone get her to a fucking hospital before she bleeds to death?"

At which point Smoker, in a display of the worst possible timing, rockets out of a side street and punches Herman in the kidneys.