Reborn in the Mist

Samehada was splayed across a table that easily extended past six feet in width and yet it still flopped over the end like a wet, fresh catch straight out of the sea. The cool, ocean blue of the Armoury’s sterile walls didn’t help matters either.

The Armoury, as the host of so many complexly crafted weapons was built to the highest Fuuinjutsu standards and maintained its own atmosphere of chakra as a special feature for the Shark Skin Blade especially.

Among its other security functions the Armoury was made so that the many chakra sensitive weapons amongst the Seven were nominal. Samehada could be stored unwrapped and not feast on the chakra based properties imbued in the others as it would be forced to assume a hibernation mode of sorts. Kubikiribocho wouldn’t rust no matter how oxidized the air was, Hirameikarei wouldn’t leak as much chakra and would be ready for action right at the get go, and Shibuki, the Blastsword, wouldn’t unleash a legion of explosive tags at scent of a lit match.

Kabutowari, Nuibari and the Kiba Blades weren’t a problem beyond securing their security and right now only the Kiba was absent from the Armoury, weighted at Raiga’s side.

The clan heads stood witness behind me as Kisame and Fuguki took their place a couple paces away from the table Uncle Aoto placed Samehada. I was worried the Blade would stir the moment he touched it but the gloves he wore were specially made for that; so unworthy and even non-shinobi could lift, clean and eventually practise with the blade. Otherwise it would immediately sense and devour the chakra and possibly the person dumb enough to touch it barehanded.

Traditionally I should’ve placed the blade before them but I’ve had my fair of Samehada and I knew it had a taste for my chakra, or more specifically, Isobu’s. If I came too close or let too much of the Three-Tail’s chakra leak it would surely stir and seek to devour, then I’d have to possibly excuse the final test or watch it from behind a glass wall next week so I didn’t stir a bias.

I levelled a gaze at Kisame and Fuguki, then Samehada some equal ten feet between them and tried not to snicker as for a moment, the stern, power hungry swordsmen about to duel were nothing more than a couple competing over a dog’s favour.

“Call to it.” I said and behind me Junko’s breath hitched.

Kisame and Fuguki took it easy at first, their faces wrinkle with slight concentration as they took similar stance and beckoned the blade with an extended, chakra filled palm, ““To me, Samehada!””

The Blade didn’t leap from the table but it did stir. A soft rumbling, snarl signalled its awakening, it seemed to stretch, shaking away the sleep from its non-existent eyes as its maw cracked open with a yawn. It quickly got a sniff of both chakra signatures and for a moment, behind it where much of what I could see was its handle grip backside, it looked confused.

In its defence, this was the first time in Kirigakure’s history there had been two people claiming its ownership and actively duelling for it. History was being made in the cold walls of the Armoury.

“Samehada! To me.” Fuguki punctuated, his chakra grew intense, he couldn’t flare or channel more chakra than his hands length, any more and he’d essentially be feeding the beast and the purpose of this exercise was not that.

Kisame maintained a cool head, his jaw tightened but focus clear in his silent and singular command. Samehada at this point reared up from the table, sitting up almost like a human, frighteningly so. It glanced between them, leaning outward each time but never truly committing.

And then it turned to me. Inwardly I curse as I felt its sentient awareness keen on my being, without another reaction I calmed my admittedly excited breath, brought the waves of my chakra to calm and sought Isobu in the back of my mind like he promised he’d be whenever I needed him.

“Isobu, for a moment, could you suppress your chakra?”

I could sense the Giant Turtles confusion that I’d want the power he offers suppressed but since becoming myself he’s been more than willing to listen and talk. Without a word I felt the Tailed Beast restrain itself though as I opened my eyes I saw that Samehada’s teeth ripped mouth was already beginning to froth.

It lost interest as soon as most of my chakra was suppressed though and immediately turned to Kisame with a hungry growl. Fuguki’s eyes widened and he barked, “Samehada!”

Again the beast sword swerved with indecision, rearing at Fuguki who looked relieved to have its attention again. He beckoned, “Come, now.”

Samehada in some ways was nothing more than a dog and to accommodate for its doggy ways Fuguki and Kisame were restricted to only beckoning commands. How easy it would be to simply say ‘Come let’s feast’ and see the Blade lurch. No such luck for either of them though, promises of chakra beyond the sliver in their palms was restricted.

However, it seemed Samehada recognized its true master without need to be coerced. Without a single word Kisame had stolen the sword’s attention yet again and this time, for good. The Shark Skin Blade threw itself off the table with a beastly swiftness, allowing Kisame to catch its tail or rather handle and be drained steadily of chakra as consequence of mastering the legendary blade.

“Yes!” Junko’s scream burst the terse silence more than any of Fuguki’s meagre commanding attempts. She looked ready to leap at her clan’s scion but restrained herself under the gaze of fellow clan heads and myself.

She cackled regardless at the look of abject loss and defeat that had overcome Fuguki. The large man looked around the room and not for the first time I felt his youth and status reflected in the way a man of his size shrunk, suddenly out of place among his betters.

You’re mistaken Suikazan. I thought to myself as I stepped forward and congratulated Kisame with an approving grin, “Well done, Kisame and for a moment there I thought your overcoming Fuguki was a fluke.”

He took the compliment in stride, sharing a sharp toothed grin as he winced at Samehada’s greedy scales stabbing his palm, “Thank you for the opportunity, Yagura-sama, I will not disappoint you. Samehada will be a terror in my capable hands.”

“I’m sure it will.” I raised my hand towards his shoulder and he leaned for me to tap it approvingly, “Well done, again, you make your clan proud.”

“Yes, yes he does!” Junko doubled down with all the confidence of a gambler who hadn’t lost yet. She quickly came up to him next, standing at his side and basking in all the glory a legendary weapon tied to the Hoshigaki name brought as Uncle Aoto and Lady Megumi congratulated him as well.

“Mizukage-sama.” I heard an aged voice call behind me.

Without turning to him I said, “Just a moment Funato-dono. Fuguki,” I called out to the man who’d remained like a mistletoe growing in a field of peppers.

“Yagura-sama,” The challenging gravel that lustred his voice months before I’d become Mizukage was nowhere to be found, his head was part lowered already and not just due to my height.

I looked and gestured at the Armoury full still with the Kabutowari, Nuibari, Hirameikarei and Shibuki and said, “Surely you’ve mastered another one of the blades?”

His eyes widened in surprise at the question but a second after glittered as he recognized the opportunity, “Though I strive to master all, only Samehada, Kabutowari and Hirameikarei answer to me well.”

I thought about it for a moment, Hirameikarei, the flounder fish shaped twinswords that could be split or transformed according to the users will was the blade I saw my apprentice wielding in the coming years. Mangetsu’s display at the tournament was brilliant though he lost to Zabuza in the end— no fault of his own but the performance alone ensured I began thinking of his future as my apprentice.

The Kabutowari, like many of its peers was a strength intensive dual weapon— a giant axe and hammer linked together by a rope. Dual wielding such a weapon would require strength that was likely beyond me and even beyond Kisame but Fuguki was just about built for it.

“You will wield the Kabutowari then.” I declared much to his shock and relief.

Confusion spread through his features not a moment after though and he asked, “What must I do for this favour, Mizukage-sama?”

“Favour? This is no favour, it is your duty, at least until someone else comes along to challenge you for it.” I smirked, knowing full well he thought I’d hold a grudge for inciting the battle royale that was my succession or perhaps even prejudice for not being of a main clan as Kisame and I am.

He fell to his knees, fist clenched and trembling at his side, “Thank you, Mizukage-sama, I will continue to serve you as I have.”

I merely gave a curt nod and waved Funato to fall at my side as I walked out, leaving Junko, Lady Megumi and Uncle Aoto to discuss whatever gambling scheme the shark lady was roping them into.

It didn’t take long before I found a dojo master room and pushed it open for Funato and I. I sat at the large tatami atop a small set of steps where a table with an ink pot and some books stood.

“You have thirty minutes.”