7.

By the time the sun rose the next day, lethargy and apathy had firmly settled upon Nanashi. Not to mention a dose of guilt from his previous night's actions. The fever, stubbornly refusing to budge, left him depleted. He mostly wanted nothing more to do than just sleep.

Hira, avoiding the use of poppy, settled on making him a custom blend of herbal tea to help him get some rest. That and trying to coax different broths into him to keep him sustained. The fever's effects, mostly chills and the occasional sweat, made Hira keep a sharp eye on him, not wanting him to get dehydrated. Every chance she could, she not only got him to drink tea or broth, she got water into his system.

Kotaro was left pretty much to his own devices. Not hard for a boy to find things to do, especially after the brief snow had melted off, leaving the grounds around Hira's home open to roam through. He also took it upon himself to take the ducks to the pond, ride the horse, and play with Tobimaru.

After she had made supper that evening Hira went into the storage room and came out with three of the bamboo tubes she had brought in the first night they had arrived. They and a small leather pouch.

Kotaro sat on his shikibuton, folding paper cranes and adding them to his string. He chattered away to her or the dog, she wasn't sure which, about how he was going to wish for the most amazing thing ever when he reached a thousand cranes.

She set the tubes next to the chabudai, then went to the pine tree covered fusuma, sliding it back and retrieving several blocks of wood. She set the blocks on the table, checked that all was well with the irori, then focused some attention on Nanashi.

He slept, if just, a restless sleep. Something that continued to cause her some concern. Restless was never restful. His chest still pained him, not surprising with broken ribs. They often were the most painful of breaks to heal.

With a sigh, she settled herself on the floor facing the table and irori. She pulled the broken katana out from where it lay wrapped in its bundle under the chabudai. Laying the wrapping across the larger of the wooden blocks, she inspected the broken sword, examining the blade, and the tsuba then concentrated her attention on the tsuka handle.

"What are you doing?" Kotaro's voice suddenly sounded to her left, a note of alarm in his voice.

Hira glanced at him, he seemed torn between curiosity and alarm.

"Here," she said shifting to her right. "Have a seat and you can watch."

"But what are you going to do it it?" He protested.

"Take it apart and see what can be repaired." She replied, setting the broken blade down flat on the rag covered block making sure the sharp edge was away from them both.

"But you said it was all broken!" He shot back. "You said it was dead."

"Yes, and I want to see what can be salvaged to replace it. Wouldn't you want him to have a sword that can be used?" She looked at the boy frankly, setting the sword so that the hand guard was flush against the block.

The boy looked at her, "Well, yes, but..."

"No buts. If he's to have a katana it needs to be replaced, depending on the damage. So," she patted the space next to her. "Sit and we can see what needs to be done."

Looking suspicious and uncertain, he reluctantly sat down, looking at the katana worriedly.

"Let me explain a little about what we have here." Hira said. "Obviously the blade is ruined, so we need to take it out of the tsuka." She pointed at a noticeable dot just visible between the wrappings of the burgundy silk of the hilt. "This is called the mekugi. It's a bamboo pin that holds the tang of the sword inside the ho, the wooden handle. You see?" she asked.

Kotaro leaned forward. "That's all that holding it on there?"

"In a matter of speaking, but there are a few other forces involved. So hand me that little sack there." She nodded at the pouch. "And I will show you what that is..."

Kotaro pushed it over and Hira took out a blunt ended metal pin and a small, leather bound, wooden, hammer. She knelt over the handle. Positioning the metal pin on one side of the mekugi she rapped it firmly with the hammer. Nothing happened as she flipped the tsuka over, examined the other side and flipped it back. Another rap of the hammer and she flipped the handle over again. Sticking out from the exit hole was the bamboo pin. She pinched hold of it and tugged the somewhat unyeilding pin out of the handle.

"All right," she said, setting the mekugi aside. "That was a bit stiff, probably from the blows of the last battle this was used in. Let's see if the blade will slide out." She picked the katana up, wedging her thumb against the hand guard and gripping the blade from the back.

"These blades aren't just flat pieces of sharp metal. They have several different facets and widths." she explained. "Where you see my hand, on the blade, that is the bottom or the back, the mune. It is always convex. Like a shallow bowl. In a sword fight, a samurai can actually place his hand here and wield the weapon without cutting off his fingers. The edge is called the ha. It is always concave, meaning the edge bows out.

With a properly made katana, you can actually put your finger under the habaki or the fuchi and balance the blade perfectly on one finger."

She picked the katana up and showed the boy where it could be balanced, only in their case, with the blade being broken, the tsuka just weighed it down. "This here is the habaki, the sword collar." She pointed out a brass sleeve on the blade itself. "I should be able to grasp the blade here." She gripped it from the mune side and tried to wriggle the tang from the handle.

It wouldn't budge.

"So, in this case, we use that long block of wood with the notch in it. Can you hand it to me?" she asked.

Kotaro, fascinated now, picked it up and handed it to her.

Shifting the long piece of wood up, she settled the wooden notch against the habaki collar. The groove in the block holding the blade out at an angle. The block of wood at the groove lay flat and flush against the tsuba hand guard.

"We don't want to break or damage anything else on the katana so we use this piece of wood to free a stuck blade from the tsuka." Hira explained. She turned the blade and block, picked up the hammer and struck the wood hard on the end not against the tsuba. There was distinct wooden thump and a metallic ring which made Hira smile.

"That ought to do it," She said, setting the hammer down and loosening the block off the blade. Reaching down she gripped the back of the blade above the habaki and tugged.

There was a little resistance, but then, the blade pulled free from the tsuka. Almost instantly an ovate metal ring fell to the table as Hira set the tsuka down.

"Whoa..." Kotaro breathed in awe.

The blade looked very strange now, freed from the handle. The tang curved slightly, ending in a rounded point. The mekugi hole quite noticeable now merely an inch or so from the end of the tang. Hira smiled at the boy and gripped the habaki collar, tugging firmly to get it to release from the blade. As she set it aside, Kotaro could see two distinct notches on the blade where the collar had been.

"And that is the blade." She said. She examined the tang a moment. "See here..." she pointed to where faintly inscribed characters could just be made out above the tang hole. "That is the inscription of the original blade maker, his signature. This portion of the blade is the nakago, the tang, it is what is secured in the ho."

"Who made it?" Kotaro asked and she read off the name.

"They sometimes have engraving here." She said pointing out an area towards the mune. "This one does not. Okay, so, what is this called again, the back of the sword?"

"The mune." Kotaro responded promptly.

"And here... the top or the edge?"

"The ha." He replied.

"And here?" She pointed to the tang.

"The nakago."

She smiled approvingly then pointed to the two notches. "These are the machi. And since a blade is never just a flat piece of metal these notches have names. So what do you think this notch on the bottom would be called?"

Kotaro looked uneasily at her, then looked down at the blade. The blade wasn't just two dimensional, he reminded himself. "Ummm, the mune machi?"

"Eh! You 're catching on, so what is this one called?" She pointed to the other notch.

"Ha machi!"

"Very good! Now hand me that bamboo tube there, the middle one, and pull the top off it," she said.

He willingly obliged, pulling the top off with a 'pop'. Looking inside he could several other blades in it.

"These are broken blades from other swords I have repaired in the past. I take them into the village with me and barter for things with the metal smiths in order to repair katanas that are sometimes brought to me."

"You fix katana's as well?" Kotaro asked. "How'd you learn that?"

"I told you, boy, besides healers there were metal smiths in my family. My sisters, cousins and I all learned how to assemble the swords for the district's samurai. Besides, the katana has a spirit. And I am a healer. So I heal the katana's as well."

"You're trying to heal Nanashi's katana?"

"Well in his case, Kotaro, the katana is dead. However, I can assemble one that will be just as good as his, with as many parts from his katana that I can salvage." She winked at him. "And I can show you how to do it so that you can help him maintain his sword in the future."

Clearing a space on the table, she set the habaki collar to the left with the ovate washer next to it. While Kotaro watched, she gripped the tsuba and wriggled it off the blade, followed by another washer. She then slid the broken blade into the tube, handing it back to the boy.

"Remember, this is the habaki. It fits up against those two notches on the blade and marks the beginning of where the blade gets sharpened. It also stabilises the tsuba. Then we have a seppa followed by the tsuba and another seppa. Lastly, we have the fuchi. The handle's collar. This collar is more rounded to fit the wooden handle."

She gripped the fuchi tightly and began wriggling it off the handle. It proved difficult. After a bit of concerted effort, she finally managed to pull the stubborn collar off. She set it next to the seppa, setting the rest of the tsuka aside. Then she picked up the round tsuba and turned it to show to Kotaro.

"You see that there, that line?"

"Yeah..." Kotaro peered over her hand.

Gripping the brass piece between both hand she pushed / pulled in opposing directions. "See the split? The tsuba is broken. That can prove fatal in another sword fight if it should shatter completely." She released her grip and held it out to the boy. "I usually add these to my scrap metal for the smith's in town, but somehow, I think maybe you should have it."

Kotaro looked at her a moment, then took the tsuba from her, gazing at it and the crack in its edge. "Thanks..." he murmured.

Hira just smiled. "So... what are each of these pieces called?" She asked him and he promptly recited back to her what each piece was. She reached over and picked up the tsuka again. She tapped the bottom.

"There is a cap here. The kashira. It's the end cap. It not only fits tightly to the end of the ho, but it is also tied in place by the ito, the silk wrap that makes up the tsuka's grip. I would dearly like to save the ito for you, but because it is cut to fit this particular ho, I won't be able to. Maybe I can use some of it to make the knot for the sheath later. I have a very similar colour of burgundy though, maybe a bit darker than what is on here. It should do nicely. So to get this cap off the end, I need to untie the ito and remove it. Can you hand me that little bag of of tools again?" She asked.

Obediently he passed it over. Hira pulled out a slim metal dowel that tapered to a conical point on one end then an oddly angled thick metal wire with a hook and an abalone handle.

"Let's see where the person who wrapped this handle ended their work." Hira mused and picked up the dowel. She poked and prodded around the knot on one side of the handle, then flipped it over and prodded until a part of the ito gave way. "Ah!" She exclaimed and wriggled the dowel under the knot until a cut end of the silk popped free. She switched out tools for the abalone hook and began to wriggle the hook in and out of knots, pulling the ito this way and that, slowly teasing the silk cord loose. It finally came free from the hole on one side of the kashira.

"Hira?" Kotaro suddenly asked. His voice sounding a little timid. She glanced at him as she flipped the tsuka over and began to wriggle the hook around the knot on the other side of it. He was toying with the old tsuba, looking nervous. "He's really sick isn't he?"

Hira paused in her work and sat back, gazing at the boy.

"He is sick, yes, and uncomfortable," she said. "However, his wounds are not seeping any more blood and fluid. Plus they aren't feverish themselves. Wounds can develop fevers. Warm spots on the flesh that can indicate infection. Nanashi's haven't done that and that is a very good thing."

"The alcohol I had to pour into the wounds, plus the herbal tincture, cleaned the wounds out of any bad things and they promote healing. As did the balm I made that you helped put on all his wounds and cuts."

"What is of concern is his ribs. Whatever he hit, or fell through, or had fallen on him, broke four -possibly five- ribs. That is a far worse thing than that bad stab wound. He's feeling a lot of pain on that side of his body, which means that there could be fluid around his lung."

"The danger is that build up of fluid. Which he feels as pressure on his chest. That can lead to pneumonia. Where even more fluid builds up and further weakens him. That makes it hard for him to breath. That kind of infection is what could kill him. I don't want that to happen so I have him hold that zabuton to his chest and have him breath from lower dantian. Do you know what dantian is?"

The boy shook his head.

Hira just smiled at him. "Well, if you are going to eventually learn how to use a katana, you need to learn dantian."

"What is it?" Kotaro asked, looking up at her.

"Dantian is a way of breathing. It helps the flow of energy in your body, your chi. There are three types of breathing. Upper," Hira tapped her forehead, then laid a hand across her bosom. "Middle, then lower." She dropped her hand below her belly.

"When we're going about our daily business we always breath naturally from middle dantian. When we meditate, or when we are doing our forms and exercises to master a martial art, we breath from lower dantian. Breathing from this area builds up strength in the body. It allows the chi to move freely and helps in healing."

"But because Nanashi is having pain and some difficulty breathing from there, he needs that zabuton to hold against his ribs and chest to allow him to draw breath from lower down. It eases the pain."

She gazed at the boy. "Do you understand?"

He nodded.

Hira smiled, "He's strong and healthy, Kotaro, if a bit underfed. He can fight this off. Between the two of us, we'll get him back on his feet."

The boy said nothing, but she could see the worry and fear behind his dark eyes.

"Let's keep working on this, shall we?" She picked up the tsuka. She had finished prising the ito from the other knot and with her strong fingers, she wriggled the kashira off the end. Handing it to Kotaro she then began to swiftly unwind the silk from off the handle.

"Do you know what this is?" She asked, as she slowly exposed what lay under the wrapping.

Kotaro gazed over her hand, seeing a strange bumpy 'skin' that wrapped around the ho. Many tiny raised circles covered it and he could tell it was some sort of hide.

"You can feel it, if you want. This is the samegawa, or just the same*, its a ray's skin. It's a very important part of the tsuka because of the grip it can provide. This is a standard same. You can tell by the colour. Most same's are greyish or tan. If you bleach them, they turn white and can be dyed different colours. Usually those same's are for ornamental weapons. A standard sword general uses just the grey or tan, the natural colour of the ray."

Kotaro ran his finger along the bumpy surface. "Ray? Like from the sea?"

"Yes. This particular skin," Hira finished unwrapping the ito and nudged the burgundy silk aside. "This is from the very center of the ray's back, and I can tell that by these here."

She pointed out several larger bumps forming a slightly irregular line on the ho. "Like the blade not being two dimensional, the ho and tsuka are the same. These larger bumps are situated on the right side of the ho. You can see where the right hand menuki sat at one point in time near the tsuba. That fit directly under the right palm. On the left,"

Hira turned the handle to show -near the end of the tsuka- where there was a similar discolouration on the same. "This is where the left side menuki sat for the left palm."

She turned the ho to expose the wood on the end of the handle. "Remember how I said that the tsuka was damaged as well?" She asked.

The boy nodded.

She pointed to a crack in the wood. "The wood is split there, from whatever force hit it. Which means that the ho needs to be replaced. But, we need to get this same off somehow. It's a straightforward wrap, which is standard with most katana's. It's glued into place using rice. So, that means we need to steam it for a while before we can go any further."

"Steam it?" Kotaro asked.

"Yes, to try and loosen that glue. I don't have any same skin at this point in time. So I need to try and salvage this one. It should be fairly simple, however..." she sighed and glanced at him with a rueful smile. "It's going to take a bit of time. So, how would you like to take a bath?"

"A bath?" He asked looking up at her.

"In a ofuro." She raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

He frowned, "Where do you have an ofuro?"

"Behind those shoji screens at the back of the cave..." Hira, nudged the chabudai forward, and got to her feet. "C'mon, you can help me fill it and take a warm bath. Let me get your robe and some towels."

To his astonishment, Kotaro soon stared at a large shallow wooden tub that was hid from view by the shoji's in the cave.

Hira, pulling a stick of burning wood from the cave's irori, lit several candles and nodded her head towards the back of the cave.

"The little stream that runs through the property, has a source of water higher up the mountain, but there is also a spring in here that feeds it as well." Hira said, leading him past the ofuro and over to where a small gate was set in the floor of the cave. Beyond it, Kotaro could just see and hear water bubbling up out of the ground and seeping off into gravelly rocks to the left of the cave. Several wooden buckets sat stacked nearby.

"That is my source of water." She opened the little gate, and beckoned him closer. "Take the buckets and fill them up and we'll fill the ofuro. We'll get hot water from the irori in here and warm up the water. Then you can have a bath."

Kotaro wasn't about to say no to that.

She left him to enjoy himself, leaving towels nearby. She told him that when he was done, how to drain the water from the ofuro and to leave his clothes by the large pot to be washed.

Keeping him preoccupied, she returned to the washitsu, changing out his bed, then setting up the same wrapped ho over a pot of water steaming in the irori.

Eventually, she settled on her knees besides Nanashi, applying the damp cloth to his face, checking the state of his fever. A notch of worry etched between her brows. His hair, seeming to have a mind of its own, had fallen across his face again. She smoothed it back, studying his scarred features a moment before noting again, the mahogany coloured hair just barely noticeable at the root line.

He heaved a sigh, turning his head towards her and opened his eyes long enough to acknowledge her presence, before shutting them again.

He was too weary to even talk.