An encounter with the blacksmith…
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Ever since he was a child, Haganezuka Hotaru wanted nothing more than to be a blacksmith who forges nichirin blades. He was borderline obsessed with it to the point that he would often need to be tied up at night so he wouldn't sneak off to the forge and try to make use of the dangerous tools that he was still far too young to handle. But as the years went by, he was finally old enough to begin his training proper. The first sword he ever created was a simple thing, not quite strong enough to be used against a demon, but it served well as a training blade. However his constant desire to forge blades was considered to be a bit excessive even among his fellow smiths. He spent most of his time in the forge, rarely coming out to socialize with others, eventually causing his social skills to be -if you were trying to put it nicely- underdeveloped. This social ineptitude combined with his hermit lifestyle would eventually cause problems for him when it came to finding clients. To Hotaru, each blade he forged was a part of himself that he was entrusting to the demon slayer who used it. Should a blade come back damaged -or, god forbid, broken- he viewed that as a betrayal by the wielder, that they did not care for the sword -his trust- as much as he expected them to. Thus when his only current client, Kamado Tanjiro, lost one of his swords and broke the other two, Hotaru took that as a personal attack against himself. Tanjiro did not value the trust that Hotaru had placed in him, instead allowing it to be literally broken. Therefore, he flat-out refused to forge a new sword when he knew it would just wind up getting destroyed.
Yet in his subconscious, Hotaru already knew that the fault lied with him. His ineptitude as a smith resulted in him producing a faulty product. If a demon slayer were to lose their sword in combat, death is practically a guarantee if they are on their own. The fact that Tanjiro managed to survive against Lower Moon 6 with little more than a razor attached to a handle is a miracle in and of itself. Hotaru's sword had failed its wielder at the time he needed it most. Had Tanjiro died, it would have been Hotaru's fault. But instead of owning up to his failure, Hotaru instead chose to be a petulant child and throw a tantrum, placing the blame squarely on Tanjiro's shoulders.
That misguided rage is what led to his current situation, wandering the mountains surrounding the village, going on a kind of soul-searching journey and training himself for forging another sword. This time, the sword could not be allowed to break.
The sound of a hammer striking iron echoed through the forest, causing Hotaru to come to a dead halt. There were no forges out here, so why could he hear the sound of metal being struck? Was someone else out here that he was unaware of? His curiosity won out in the end, and Hotaru was quick to follow the sound in the hopes of locating its source. Despite the noise sounding relatively close, it somehow took him almost half-an-hour to finally reach its origin point.
As he gazed at his surroundings, he suddenly recalled an old legend his grandfather had once told him.
"They tell stories about a mystical forge hidden somewhere in the mountains that keep our village hidden. It is said that only those who are deserving of its guidance are able to find it. Many an ambitious smith have gone in search of the glorious forge, but none can ever find it. Those who have failed claim that it is just a prank, a fool's errand to test the resolve of aspiring blacksmiths. However, I can tell you for certain that this is no mere legend, for I have been to the forge myself! I was around your fathers age when it happened, and I was not even looking for it at the time. The only reason I was in the forest was to find a beautiful tree that I could propose to your grandmother under, but then I heard it.
The faint echo of a hammer striking metal somewhere nearby. Naturally, my curiosity got the better of me and I wound up chasing after the noise for over an hour before finding it. I came to realize something; it is not possible to find the forge on your own initiative, the forge is the one that beckons you. And when I arrived, I was in awe at the sight before me. The forge itself did not look all that impressive, but it was the surroundings that left me speechless.
For leading up to the forge was,"
"a hill of swords…"
Countless blades littered the area, some piled up in small mounds, others standing alone, stabbed in the ground to serve as a monument to their creation. All shapes and sizes of swords could be found on that hill, from poor quality to a true masterpiece. Hotaru felt compelled to remove his mask so he may gaze upon the craftsmanship more clearly, yet he stilled his hand. Instead, he slowly made his way to the forge, eyes looking over every katana with each passing step. Yet the desire to closely examine the swords was too much for him, as he halted his steps and reached out to the nearest sword.
"Hey!" a loud voice suddenly called out, causing Hotaru to falter and nearly topple to the ground. "Don't go touching other people's work without their permission!"
Turning to face the source of the voice, Hotaru realized that he was not alone, as the smith had emerged from the interior of the building. He looked relatively young and well-built but carried the presence of someone who had lived a life long enough to perfect his craft. It was the same type of feeling Hotaru had whenever his father took up a hammer, though this man was leagues above him in skill level.
"Well? Do you have something to say for yourself?" the man asked with a hint of annoyance.
Hotaru was quick to realize that he had been standing there like an idiot without having apologized for his transgression. He immediately bowed his head.
"M-my apologies! I was simply taken by the glorious craftsmanship of the sword that I couldn't resist the urge to hold it!" he replied while keeping his head down.
The man grunted in acknowledgement. "Very well. Raise your head."
Doing as instructed, Hotaru gazed back at the mysterious man, his head filled with questions he wanted answered. Who was he? What exactly was this place? Who made these swords? The man ran a hand through his hair -an unusual shade of red- before he beckoned Hotaru over.
"Come along. I'm sure you have your reasons for being here, so follow me and we'll talk." he spoke as he went back inside the building.
The initial shock having finally worn off, Hotaru made haste to catch up to the strange man. As the smith entered the forge, he quickly took in its appearance but found nothing out of the ordinary. The place just looked like your run-of-the-mill forge, save for a living space adjacent to the rear, no doubt where the red-haired man slept.
Reaching out towards the wall, the man pulled one of the numerous levers mounted there. Moments later one of the air vents closed shut, limiting the amount of oxygen the fire was being fed and effectively forced it to shrink in size, lessening the overall heat inside. With practiced ease the man kicked a stool over to Hotaru which slid to a halt at his feet. Sitting on a chair himself, the man crossed his arms and gave Hotaru a look over.
"So, what brings you to my humble abode?"
Taking a seat himself, Hotaru struggled on where to begin. "Well, I… I'm not quite sure about the reason… I mean, I was following the sound of the hammer… But wait, I wasn't actually trying to find this place… I just felt compelled to…"
A hum of confirmation. "answer the summons of the forge?" the man helpfully supplied.
"Yeah, that!" Hotaru confirmed as he snapped his fingers. "But that's not why I was in the forest to begin with."
"Let me guess, you're having trouble with your work. The swords you forge aren't quite as good as they used to be."
Hotaru shot up to his feet. "NO!" he shouted defensively. "I just can't stand it when that kid keeps breaking my swords! He doesn't show them any respect!"
The man nodded. "Go on."
"I mean, do you have any idea how much time I take when forging a nichirin blade?! The sword needs to be of top quality, otherwise there is no point to it! I labor away at the forge late into the night to ensure every sword meets my standards, and yet the brat doesn't seem to care at all for how much work I put in for it!" by this point Hotaru had begun to stomp about as he continued to vent his frustrations. "No respect for me or my work! Does he think that if he loses a sword it's just 'oh, I'm sure Haganezuka-san won't mind making another one. Not like he has anything better to do'. Don't go treating my works like they're disposable pieces of trash!"
The mysterious man simply sat in silence and waited as Hotaru continued to rant and rave about his frustrations before he finally stopped to breathe.
"Are you done?" the red-head asked with a raised brow.
Huffing, the smith nodded. "Yes."
"Good. I was going to suggest we start with introductions, but you've already mentioned yours during your little episode. As for me, you can just call me Masa or Masa-san for now."
Hotaru gave a quick bow. "Thank you for putting up with me just then. I guess I really needed to vent."
Masa grunted in acknowledgment. "I suppose that means we can get to work then."
The masked man raised a brow in confusion. "Work? What do you mean?"
Walking over to one of the workstations, Masa flipped the earlier lever up to restore proper ventilation to the kiln and grabbed a billet that he had set aside. "You are going to show me what you can do." he answered as he held the unfinished sword out for Hotaru to take.
Initially confused, the nichirin swordsmith figured there was nothing to lose and went along with the request. He was always up for forging more swords. As Hotaru went about the process of forging the sword, Masa evaluated him with a critical eye, taking note of any mistakes that were made during the process. Once the forging was complete, Hotaru placed the finished product on the table for assessment.
"There you go. Rather good if I do say myself." the masked man remarked with a bit of pride.
Already cooled to a safe-to-handle temperature, Masa held the blade horizontally in one hand for a moment before bringing it to eye-height and looked down its length.
"Hmm, it's unbalanced." Masa stated, causing Masa to choke on air in shock. "The hamon is too wide, you quenched it for three seconds longer than necessary, the mono-uchi is two grams heavier than it should be, causing less-than ideal weight displacement."
"WHAT?!"
"The yokote also has too sharp a curve, but I suppose that's just my perfectionist side talking. As far as my standards go, I'd give it a five out of ten rating."
"FIVE OUT OF TEN?! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH IT?!"
Masa raised a brow as he regarded the furious smith. "I just told you what's wrong. Do you need me to repeat myself?"
Hotaru held back a curse. "Fine! I'll admit it isn't my best work, but considering it was spur of the moment, I'd at least expect a seven!"
The red-head tossed the blade into a barrel filled with other defective blades. "Irrelevant. You weren't under any pressure, that was a high-quality billet, and you had access to all the tools that were required and then some." he replied as he crossed his arms and regarded Hotaru with a stern glare. "Do you have any real excuses for why you produced a sub-par product?"
He could only grit his teeth in frustration at the question. Masa was correct, he had no excuses.
"So, now do you want to tell me why your swords broke? This time without using the kid as an excuse."
The Haganezuka clenched his fists and internally fumed. "I… I don't…"
Masa sighed and shook his head. "It's because you failed to meet your client's requirement."
Snapping his head up, Hotaru glared at Masa from behind his mask.
"You were unable to realize that your skills weren't enough to create a sword that was the perfect match for the wielder. I bet you spent most of your life making those swords for yourself, not for the person who would charge into battle with it."
"But-!"
"Did you ever view them as a sword for 'this person' or did you just think of them as another demon slaying blade that you made for your own satisfaction?"
This time Hotaru went silent. He memory flew back to months ago when he first forged a sword for Tanjiro. The words said back then finally coming into perspective.
'It turned black? Argh! I really wanted to see a red sword, not something ordinary like black! Why couldn't you make it turn red?!'
Collapsing to his knees, the Haganezuka smith finally came to terms with where he screwed up.
"The boy wanted you to make him a sword that would kill Kibutsuji Muzan. So tell me; did you forge that sword with the intent that it will be the one to cut down Muzan?"
"… No… I didn't."
Masa gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Good. Acknowledging your mistakes is the first step towards fixing them. Now get up."
Lifting his head, Hotaru saw that Masa was holding out a hand to help him up.
"It's time for you to take the next step."