Sagara and I had actually delayed the rebuilding of the forge until the new year for various reasons. The primary issue had been a sudden surge in orders from multiple parties that we'd had to deal with, even if many of them weren't weapons. It turned out that my watches and metal flower arrangements had seen some level of popularity and I'd had a few dozen people ask in regards to custom creations fitting specific themes or designs. Sagara had found the entire thing both very annoying and deeply gratifying given the store had never experienced anything like a 'holiday rush' before.
"You almost done, Kota?" Sagara grunted as he looked over the still-glowing bars of steel I'd poured out of the newest addition to our forge. The blast furnace wasn't exactly what I'd wanted to build, but I'd had to cut some corners with design and ended up needing to take into account the greater through-put the business was doing as well.
The end result was a Frankenstein's monster of a primitive blast furnace built into a new depression in the floor so that it could have the height it needed to achieve the temperatures I wanted out of it.
Why?
Well, because it turned out that making a material, or at least a metal, chakra-conductive necessitated fully and completely liquifying it before channeling chakra through it as it cooled so the metal could 'remember' how to handle the flow of energy without warping under the stress applied to it. Well, there were a couple of other steps that involved treating the metal chemically at specific temperatures when you were doing the actual forging, but that was the big secret.
"All done." I stated, my voice echoing behind the heat-mask I'd taken to wearing in the forge-room these days. The place had been hot before I'd installed the new features and, even with the water-cooling I'd added, it was still beyond anything anyone would find comfortable. I could probably bear it as-needed with the control I could exert over my physiology, a few nifty tricks I'd figured out while exploring nature transformation in my ever-rare off-time, but most of that was utterly obvious and drew attention. So even if I was using a few of the more subtle tricks, I was still going to be wearing the protective gear Sagara and I had fashioned.
If nothing else, it saves me on the hassle the girls give me when I burn my eyebrows off...
"Good." Sagara nodded, giving the room one last look as he took off his own mask while I closed the thick furnace valve to cut the flow of molten steel. The large man swept a hand over his dripping face and sighed. "That's it for the night. Go on and work at whatever weird shit you've got going on upstairs."
I rolled my eyes. "It's just a clock."
Sagara grunted.
Dropping my gloves, mask, and heavy apron, I made my way to the kitchen first and gave myself a quick wash before rapidly determining I'd need to hit the public baths tonight if I wanted to get anywhere near my preferred level of cleanliness. The fact that several of them remained open, if lightly staffed, throughout the night meant it wouldn't be a problem, though.
There were upsides to a village of soldiers that kept twenty-four-seven readiness.
After a quick wipe-down with a towel to get the worst of the mess off, I scampered up the stairs to put in an hour or two of work on personal projects, grateful that I didn't have to cook tonight since the old man was going out drinking with a few friends.
What awaited me in my room was not a clock.
Not anymore, at least.
The original device I'd built to spit out gear blanks and precisely cut them to proper size still had pride of place along one wall and frequently got used, but the strange amalgam of parts now sitting on my desk told an entirely different story. Once upon a time, it had started out as something akin to a typewriter, in spirit at least. Back when I'd first had the idea several months ago, I hadn't even been sure this little venture into madness would work, but I'd wanted the experience it would give me on larger-scale moving parts so I could design the mechanical parts of the blast furnace.
Now, it was...
Well, it was a two-foot by two-foot mass of incredibly tiny hexagonal plates that could be moved and shifted in a circular pattern and keyed into different places as needed. The actual mechanism involved was no more complicated than a hundred-year-old mechanical typewriter's striking arm that held a given letter plate. All you had to do was hit the key and the letter plate would strike the ink-tape and leave an imprint on the paper, then fold back into place.
What I wanted to do was, instead of having any given letter plate strike a piece of paper, well...
If I got this right, each of the different hexagonal keys would come into place whenever I triggered them, spinning on their circular track so that they would lock into place as I slowly built a pair of hemispheres out of the tiny hexagonal plates made of chakra-conductive metal. Each plate would have a specific part of a technique formula marked on it, encompassed with a special fuuinjutsu bordering the plate and allowing it to have energy flow between each one in order to activate the specific technique I was 'spelling out' with the plates.
I'd need a great deal more understanding of the sealing arts before I judged this as possible, of course, but my limited knowledge of the Sage of Six Path's skills and a gut instinct told me I was on the right track. It currently didn't hurt that Naruko had handed over a recent birthday gift of an Uzumaki-style sealing primer that I was carefully and eagerly working my way through.
So far... it seemed like my little idea might be able to actually come to fruition.
It was, after all, the primary reason I'd invested in the Sage of Six Path's personal skills in the first place. I'd wanted his Creation of All Things technique, but I hadn't been able to pull it to me during my monthly bout of inspiration. After taking the first increment of the man's wider skill set, I understood why that was, too. It turned out that there was a very specific mixture of sage chakra I'd have to artificially reconstruct in order to even use the damn thing, but it was possible.
In theory.
Which was also why I'd been so excited by Yakumo's apparent use of some kind of alternative version of it that could be easier to replicate. Not that it was actually proving easier to do so, since I still hadn't managed to identify exactly what the... 'dark chakra' for lack of a better term, was precisely.
I had an idea, but...
The 'clan politics' Yakumo had mentioned in reference to Satsuki, the looks I'd seen the Uchiha girl receiving from some of the Kurama clansmen, the oily and evil nature of the energy within Yakumo, the 'Curse of Hatred'...
Could it all be that simple, really?
It would explain quite a bit, and I'd confirmed that the Land of Sky did exist, but... did the Leech?
If I was right, and I had the worst kind of hunch that I was... I'd need to teach Yakumo the full measure of the Bene Gesserit's skills instead of just the practical applications I'd planned on. Which meant, I'd need to speed up her lessons and look at a few of her clan members', maybe even her parents, to confirm my guess about what their bloodline really was and not just what they might believe it to be.
I set aside the final hexagonal plate I'd finished filing down next to the others, then lined them up and pressed them together so that they smoothly interlocked. Right now, of course, they were simply blank instead of bearing the proper technique formula, but... I knelt down and manually focused my eyes with a flex of muscles and spark of chakra to look at the under-centimeter scrawl of the most bitch-basic boundary formula on the sides of the coin-thick hex-plates.
"Test one," I muttered quietly, carefully placing my finger on the larger chakra-metal rectangle the line of tiles was resting on and pushing chakra into it. After a moment, a weak barrier began to shimmer into existence and I let out a breath in relief as I slowly and carefully focused more energy into the arrangement.
The barrier was incomplete, of course, given that I was only using a small set of tiles, but the fact that it worked at all meant good things for...
"...well, let's call it what it is, right?" I grinned to myself, still amazed that this absolute bullshit might actually get me off the ground soon. "It's a ninja-magic replicator."
…
Sadly, all good things had to come to an end, and my exaltation over even the tiny increment of success I'd had was one of them. It would be much longer until I got this working in a way which I was reasonably sure wouldn't kill me by accidentally igniting nuclear fusion.
Before that became a concern, though, I needed a bath.
Stepping out of the shop with a bag over my shoulder, I checked the 'closed' sign was in place and then locked the door behind me.
"Ah! You must be the Young Swordsmith I have heard so much of!"
My entire body seized in a tight jerk of a response before I un-puckered my asshole and turned to look at the towering image of green armored spandex stretched over a body that was harder than granite. Forcing out a breath, I smiled at Konoha's 'Gorgeous Green Beast.'
"I'm sorry, shinobi-san, but the store is closed for the day. If you like, I can give you an estimate on whatever you're thinking of while we walk, but my master will have the final word on pricing tomorrow." I stated with a short bow, the very picture of professional politeness.
Might Guy laughed as he threw his head back, the noise scaring a cat down an alleyway with an annoyed hiss. "No, no, I have no need for, well..." Giant bushy eyebrows furrowed as the man rubbed at his chin. "I suppose I could drop by to restock my shuriken and kunai supplies, but that can wait! What I have arrived at your establishment for is to speak to you in particular, young apprentice! My name is Might Guy!"
I closed my eyes for a split-second and sighed deeply, letting some of the professional attitude bleed away as my shoulder drooped. "Yeah, okay. I'm Kotaro. Can we walk and talk? I'm looking forward to a bath."
"Yosh!" Guy shouted, smacking one fist into another with a giant grin. "Very good! Cleanliness of the body is cleanliness of the soul!"
I sighed again and reached up to rub my forehead. "And, uh... if this is going to take long, could you do me a favor and not shout everything? I've been hammering metal all day and really don't need the loud noises or I'm going to get a beating headache."
I wasn't, not really, because I could control the blood flow to my brain and release some natural painkillers into my system if I really needed it, but all of that didn't change the fact that I didn't particularly enjoy loud people.
I could just barely tolerate Naruko, Guy was out of the question.
Guy's eyes widened and he inhaled deeply to shout a reply before wincing and nodded shortly instead. "My apologies, I had not understood the rigors of your work."
I waved him off as I started walking, the longer-legged man walking in time next to me. "It's fine. What did you want to talk about?"
Guy hummed in thought, then nodded. "I would appreciate your discretion, young man, but it is increasingly likely that your friend Tenten will be placed on my genin team in three month's time. To that end, I wished to make an evaluation of both her own skills and those of whoever taught her the sword."
I grimaced, not enjoying where this was going. "I'll demonstrate the form I created for Tenten if you like, but I'll have to make arrangements with my master to do so. I'm already taking quite a bit of time off in order to teach a few academy students some tricks."
Guy nodded judiciously. "I would appreciate it very much." His deceptively sharp gaze looked me over. "If I'm not being rude, would you mind telling me why you did not become a ninja?"
I hesitated for a long few moments, then shook my head. "I suppose if I said I was born with a crippled chakra system you wouldn't just take that at face value, would you?"
"Alas, your youthful skill and tenacity shines through even in a more humble profession." Guy grinned at me, offering me an approving thumbs-up. "While I did examine your academy records and the attached files, I did not believe they painted the whole truth."
I clicked my tongue. "I don't want to kill people and I don't want to see people, particularly my friends, die."
Guy grimaced, but nodded. "A sadly understandable concern, young man, and a very youthful attitude towards life in general, even if one that not many will likely understand."
I snorted, finding a bit of black humor in the situation as we walked. "Thank you for understanding, I appreciate it."
Guy sighed then, crossing his arms and looking down in disappointment. "Still, it does mean I will have to select another genin for my team. It is a shame, though, I think you would have been a good influence on my disciple." I stilled my movements in no small amount of shock. "But we have arrived at the bathhouse and I do not wish to keep you from your ablutions, young blacksmith! So I will return to speak with your master and buy many wares from him tomorrow to soothe the wound of borrowing his apprentice for spars! And for intruding so deeply in a young man's affairs I will do fifty laps around Konoha on my hands! Yosh!"
I twitched as the green-clad madman did a half-flip and rocketed away into the setting sun on the palms of his hands. Despite the oddity of the meeting and the fact that I'd likely try to strangle the man if placed in long-term contact with him, the fact that he'd been considering taking me as a genin was... strangely touching in a way.
"He really is best ninja." I chuckled to myself, then paused, slow horror creeping in as my eyes widened. "Wait, did he say spars?!"
