Prose of Construction [P]

[¤ SFS ¤]

In all the marvels the Shinobi World had been able to create using Jutsu and Chakra there was still no way to tell when you would be happening into good or bad fortune. Chance was the most attractive woman in the world, she had to have been. She was the one men pursued relentlessly and even men gave her everything she was still very likely to leave them down in the gutter and they would overlook her betrayal again and again, captured by her beauty hoping against hope tha their could curry her favor and stand in her good graces.

For Tokomaru Sen, chance and luck were an ex-girlfriend. He couldn't deny her appeal and beauty not matter how much he hated her, but he preferred to work for what he wanted and only take what he'd diligently earned. If Lady Luck decided to screw him over and out of something he worked hard for he would simply count his losses and move on before growing deeper in losses and debts. If she decided to show off her more gracious side, he would kindly thank her for her generosity, take nothing that came of it at face value and always work harder to balance out the hand out Lady Luck had tossed his way.

Taking in the sight of the young boy walking with him his slipped back to moments ago. The guy had appeared from nowhere in a moment where the Genin would have been forced to make a hard choice between leaving behind a treasured tool or leaving behind the future of his crafting ability. It seemed like a no-brainer in retrospect and the truth of it was that he would have sold his Tracker in an instant if that's what it would have taken to get the new tools. He'd been studying up on his crafting jutsu and he was ready to put his knowledge to the test by taking an astounding leap forward with these new tools that had a value of five times that of his last set. So again, if he had to he would have sold the tracker to get what he needed, but in walked him. He had Ryo to burn. Or at least enough to freely offer up in exchange for a katana. He didn't much about the level of profficency the Iwa Genin had with weapons crafting but he'd offered up the money quick enough. That lumped in with the way he dressed and the fact that he even needed a katana at all said loads more than it needed to. He was a warrior of some kind, any other explanation didn't make enough sense. He was either a shinobi from another village, or he was a non-ninja with warrior training, possibly a samurai.

It was a double bladed sword that brought them together since the boy knew nothing of Sen's ability to craft and the Sen knew nothing of the boy's ability with a blade, nor where that ability was attained. In any event he supposed it didn't matter either way. He was skilled enough in crafting to supply a sword worth more than what the boy had given him to help settle his tab back at the Earthly Extrusions. As for his standing as a warrior and where he came from, he had to realize that he really didn't care. He had been contracted to do a job and a damned good job he would do, because that's what it meant to be a Takumi, a Craftsman. He wouldn't become the kind of man that would design for anyone willing to pay but for now he would have to honor his word and make a powerful sword for a young man he barely knew.

[enzan]

I think the sun barreling down on me had contributed greatly to my decision of choosing some unknown shinobi to create a weapon for me. It had been a few minutes that we had left the workshop to travel towards this unknown location that I began to think. I would occasionally gaze toward the physically taller craftsman I admired other human beings for the toys that they were. Now his size was not dwarfing me by a long shot but I had to look up towards him which irritated me. He was also appealing even if he has some sort of burn mark like scar running down his face but that made him more experienced I guess. This journey had many variables from which I hadn't thought of until this moment in time.

I noticed something and looked down and realized I could hear the my steps, I hadn't noticed I was so heavy set in my steps as I could feel the sensation of meeting the ground reverberate through my body. Our journey seemed to take forever since the sun was starting to have and effect on me once again. I began gazing at him more and more trying to surmise some sort of history for this young man. His exterior looked rugged, his headband had already alerted me to his shinobi status. The heat I could feel almost seemed to double if I began to walk a bit closer to him.

It was like he was a living flame, I was intrigued greatly by this and began to ponder more about him. The tools that I had helped him buy looked amazingly expensive and also sleek and powerful. I kept my mouth closed, not uttering a word as we walked almost side to side. I doubted he would want me to be behind him and I was suspicious enough of him already and didn't exactly know where we were going. Yet I was a powerful ninja anything this scrub put in front of me would be dealt with easily and he wouldn't die ~ quickly.

I looked upwards towards him, breaking my miniature vow of silence.

" So, I see that your a shinobi of Iwa. . . I don't see a great hostility towards others of equal or greater strength. "

[/right] I realized afterwards my words were feminine in nature yet it didn't matter, I could figure out he knew I was a guy already. I never tried to hide my gender at all yet some times idiots would think within there miniscule i.q levels that I was of the female persuasion and would ask me out on dates. I remembered I was going off the topic at hand with my thoughts and returned to what I had just said. I had asked my question to annoy him into revealing something about himself. I would be damned if I had to travel some sort of great distance and not talking at all for that would just extend the journey unnecessarily.
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[¤ SFS ¤]

The trek through Blast wasn't a long one, still the other guy seemed to be in discomfort, the heat didn't bother Sen as much but not for the reason one might assume they didn't. The heat didn't bother him because he grew up with it. Blast City itself was built on a volcano after all, hence the name. It had little or nothing to with the fact that in his blood was the ability to control the amalgamation of Katon and Doton Jutsu as one. As he went from being followed to walking side by side with the male he felt no need to be tense or brace himself for being stabbed in the back. There was no need for it. It wasn't a doubt in the younger boy's capabilities it was more of a sense of letting go. Iwagakure no Sato was a dying dog on it's last leg. The new generation was supposed to be helping restore the stability but with no one to guide them, they just continued to spiral out into obscurity. Even now Blast City was suffering because of Iwa's lack in this harsh and unforgiving Shinobi World. He was doing what he could, but it would never be enough. So when the younger boy mentioned his Village and a lack of a certain assholery towards outsiders he wasn't very sure what to say.

"If you're looking for hostility, you should try the Fire Country or Water. I think they're doing well enough to afford to be hostile for whatever reason they choose to be." He continued on in his response but saying it aloud would have revealed too much about himself, he didn't even like to share with other Iwa-nin. The village is messed up pretty bad still trying to recover from it's past mistakes and new enemies. No one here has the time to not like someone for no blatant reason. They're to busy trying to survive long enough to help rebuild and restore. Seeing kids playing in the streets made him wonder about the kids who where no doubt killed in the recent raids the ones who were truly innocent but weren't spared from such a painful fate because they had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He hated feeling like he should have done something when the reality was that if he'd been here with them, he would have died. He couldn't quite argue with the thought of dying to protect the innocent but the fact was that he was alive and in his being alive he was able to protect the innocents that were still here.

Finding an empty shack near the Craftsman's Shop he began setting up his tools and laying out his materials. He couldn't exactly tell what everything was just yet, the new tools had pieces and parts he'd never seen before but he was sure by the time he was ready to trade them in for the next step up he going to be very familiar with them all. He removed his red collared jacket and the long sleeve shirt he wore underneath, exposing a tanktop shirt and a lean frame adorned in muscle. The immediate area tended to get hot when making weapons and wearing long sleeves was simply asking to make yourself sweat and in careless situations, it was asking to be set on fire. As he continued to set up his work station and note the position of the rising sky he would mark the time it took to finish the job. He didn't say much of anything as he began putting his materials into a bowl. The less he said the more room there had to be for the younger male to talk and in that situation he would come to reveal things about himself Sen wanted to know but didn't care to ask.

That was of course unless the guy was a bit of a silent type like himself. In that case, he would be able to focus on his work, and the time it took to make this person's sword would fly by.

[enzan]

It wuld seem our extremely long journey had now ended. My eyes gazed wearily upon what seemed to be and old wooden shack. His words from before were true about Mizu and maybe Hi no Kuni but I didn't know enough about the leaf. They had so many resources and had much more evil and deviant shinobi then anyone he had actually had the misfortune to come in contact with. I watched as he walked inside of the little shack, the weather wasn't the sort of " stay outside for long periods of time " type of weather so I followed him inside. I noticed a considerable difference in temperatures as I walked within the doors. I began to look all around the place, I was a ninja always and wanted to see if any traps were around.

So far, none could be found by my eyes which both comforted me and also aroused many more suspicions. Had I actually stumbled upon someone who wasn't dishonest in this world of actors and lies? I couldn't believe my fortune as he began to sit at the table before me no doubt a craft station. What alarmed me was the look on his face after he has put the set upon the table he had. It looked like everything before him was brand new which pissed me off - really badly. I had just bought him this equipment and he couldn't even fucking use it. I walked a bit closer to him with my hands within my hakama before speaking to his left ear.

" Your about to begin? Wouldn't you like to know any specifics of what I had wanted? Or shall you wing it off of what you think I want? "

[/right]I know I was being a little . . . ok allot impatient with the craftsman but I just wanted to know how he would build it. I needed a weapon which wasn't some generic piece of trash at all. I payed and wanted something from which would be akin to me and I doubted he could pierce into my soul, I doubt he would have the doujutsu for such a thing either. I don't know why i wasn't threatening or attack him like I would in the old days but I realized for something to be done some times thinking was better then just doing. I stepped back a bit from him waiting and wondering what his reply would be to the question I had just asked him. Would he really find out a way to craft something from my very soul without even having mere interactive words?[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify][/font]

[¤ SFS ¤]

True to his profession Sen calmly continued to go about setting up for making the blade. The client seemed understandably dubious to his methods going as far as asking if he was just going to.... "wing it". A more snobish Takumi would have been offended mostly because on occasion, once you were good enough, you would get a customer whom had heard of you talents and would simply want a creation forged from your own hands. It was the perfect compliment one could pay a craftsman. A client would actually hand over their Ryo with a smile on their face and simply ask you to do your thing, with little to no input on most deign aspects or functionality on their part. In those cases the things they asked for the most were almost always cosmetic. He looked forward to reaching that level of skill on day but that was a thing that only occurred for the most talented and legendary craftsmen. Though he himself showed promise and dedication to his craft, he was no genius and nothing came easily and without time spent diligently.

He was still very much limited in what he could create. That being said, with all the Takumi Jutsu he'd been studying his mind had begun to grow cunning and foreign crafting terms that had no deep meaning for him began to connect with other terms. He was genuinely learning the art of crafting and in that knowledge new ideas and concepts were being conceived. Since he technically owned this client, he would repay his debt and then some, that was, if the client didn't mind some unique modifications.

"Using my own skills and senses to make a weapon, or anything of that matter, is second nature to me. I am not a factory, I'm only one man. I can't mass produce anything so everything I create is unique unto itself. No two client are identical and thus, so no crafts will be either, with or without, input from the client." He spoke carefully never taking his eye off his work. Although he stayed aware of his surroundings he had to ensure his temporary work area was properly set up and his tools were in working order. Seeing as they were brand new there was small chance they could be faulty so it was of the utmost importance to make sure they did what they were supposed to do the first time he used them. As he lit an intense fire under the heating bowl he continued on as the metal in the bowl began to melt. "That being said, if the client has any input whatsoever it's my obligation to them as a craftsman to hear them out and create their design to the best of my ability. So in short, if you had specific ideas I'd like to hear them."

The heat from the fire was beyond intense it would cause his forehead to begin of glaze over as it covered itself in sweat. The flames licked at the bowl evenly which was something the D-rank crafting tools didn't allow. He'd had to put on fire retardant gloves and occasionally rotate the bowl on the fire so that one section wasn't hotter or cooler than the rest. It became apparent to him the the tools were rank higher because not just because they could hold more material and fold more durable steel which would forge better weapons. They would ranked higher because they themselves were better. The bowls weren't actually bowls at all. They retained a similar shape but were really expandable/collapsible slabs that could hold larger amounts of materials. There were extra pieces that helped with the sharpening and polishing of blades and higher coarse sandpapers to smooth off the handles and grips of weapons. He was in awe of what his new tools were capable of creating and whatever it was that the client sought, he would craft to the best of his ability.

[enzan]

My reaction towards his answer was merely a nod in his direction. I didn't respect him, and it would seem I never would. Yet I wouldn't disagree with his methods since he was true to his words. Someone so open like that will be a great asset if his words are not merely a bluff. Heat radiated heating the little shack to the same degrees outside, my legs retreated backwards a bit. The flames would no doubt bother me less the further I was from the initial flames. Now a question became apparent within my mind concerning the weapon. What did I want it to actually look like cosmetically and also in the texture of the blade?

" The weapon will be structurally sound correct? It's cutting power the same as any weapon of it's ranking and abilities I would guess. Most of my questions will be purely cosmetic since I am intrigued to know whether you really are talking the talk per say. "

[/color]I really wanted to see if the end product would be as great as it could be, I wanted to see from his endeavors something beautiful could be made. Weapons fascinate me towards my very core, the same things used to cause the bruising and scars littered all around my body intrigued me. There a contradicting element that is beloved by my very core, there purpose will ultimately lead to whether the weapon is heralded or demonized. Ha Ha ~ What a thrill just to watch a weapon I will no doubt have as much fun as possible coating it in thick, hard, ,blood. My thoughts had clouded me with visions of beautiful massacres and arousing sights of headless bodies and organs splayed around everywhere. My voice was set to purpose once more to tell of the cosmetics I wished upon the blade.

" I guess now is as good as any to tell of the cosmetic sides. I want a pink sheath, and for the handle pink wrapping as well, the hilt to have a small hole to put this upon.

[/right] I produced from my pocket a tiny little ruffle of purple fur something that I used to create Sanu's clothes. It was all that was left after he burned up within the woods of Mizu no Kuni. My eyes watered a little but I placed it forwards, I wanted it to be the furr that covered the blades guard.

" Add this on the hilt and the blades guard. The rest I leave to you seeing as I understand you need some space from which to be unique with your beloved creations. "

[/right]
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[¤ SFS ¤]

As the crafting process raged on with the fires of the collapsible melting tray Sen did his best to soak up what little useful input the client had for the sword he himself was crafting. As the conversation became more one sided and eventually stopped he began to formulate his own impression of the younger male, none of things he thought were flattering. Most of them came from the fact that the other male was an enigma. There were too many known-unknowns surrounding him that cause suspicion on Sen's part. Things about the guy he was aware that he didn't know. Things like his name for starters, although that tiny fact was one that didn't matter as much as some of the others since a name could be fabricated and misleading in the wrong context. He didn't know where the younger teenager came from, he didn't know where the guy came from. Was he a Ninja from another village or just a wandering warrior who happened to stumble upon a craftsman when he needed one? He didn't know why he needed and sword or where he was planning on using that sword, was it someone in Iwagakure no Sato, was it him? He didn't know much about the young man except that he dressed strange, he wanted a pink katana and he had enough Ryo to give away to a stranger on a whim.

Worse than the known-unknowns were the unknown-unknowns, the things about the boy that could prove troublesome for him in the future that could help Sen right now if he only knew about them. Was he coming to Earth Country to find Iwagakure no Sato? Was he mentally or emotionally stable enough for Sen to even associate with? He didn't have enough evidence to decide on that either way and the whole thing put him at unease. Unease or not however it didn't stop him from crafting without skipping a beat. Without even looking the took the purple fur from the boys hands and placed it a much smaller tray for safe keeping until he was ready to make use of it. "For the record, your the one talking all the talk. The weapon I'm crafting for you will be superior to anything you'll find on the walls of any item shop or crafting shop." As the materials reached a full boil in the bowl-tray he put on the thick fire-retardant gloves and picked up the bowl beginning to pour the material inside into various molds set aside for all the things he wanted created by the time he was done for the night. The sun still danced in the sky without a care in the world and he had already moved on into the next part of the crafting process.

He put the bowl, now emptied of materials back on the burner after turning the burner off killing the flame that melted his materials. He carefully went about packing up the remaining tools that no longer needed to be used while the metal continued to fill the crevices of the mold he placed it in. It was a lot easier to keep moving and clean up while waiting for the actual part where the metal needed to be removed the cast and folded. A weapon of such caliber would needed to be folded dozens of time to reach the level of compression required for a sword of such cutting power and durability. To ensure he followed up on the clients meager wishes he looked through the side compartments of the case that the tools came in pulling out a long length of white wrapping cloth for sword hilts and two small bottles of dye; one white, one red. Gathering another collapsible bowl from a different area of the case he placed a medium amount of water in it followed by ten drops of red dye and six drops of white dye. A tape measure would gauge the distance of the white wrapping he would need later for the sword and once he cut it properly he mixed the water and dyes with his finger causing the mixture to become a vibrant pink before dropping the white length of wrapping cloth into it.

"By the way... you underpaid for this blade, so I'm sure even if it's a little sub-par you'll still get your money's worth."

[enzan]

I looked away as he began to work more intently on the project at hand. My hands folded over my stomach trying to keep warm within the now sweltering heat of his art. The sound and smell of smelted metal was piercing my senses. sulfur ~ the smell was nauseating at best a severe offense to my beautiful nose as it curled in defensive of the offending odor. His words, like embers of flame licked at my mind until i couldn't stand it. It was confidence which had drawn me to his very essence, however I felt this was weird from his display at the crafting store.

I began to think about my parents the reason I even came to Tsuchi no Kuni. The evil that was done to me by him

[/i], and also the love I experience by Sanu. I wondered if this sword would make me more like Sanu. . . or more like him. Those Thoughts raced back and forth within my very skull, causing me great distress. I needed to clear my mind and even focus on something new.And there was no other way of doing that then to speak my very mind. I tilted my head towards him, and allowed each and every syllable that spilled from my lips to be sarcastic in tone.

" Well, yes. I talk allot but I am very able to back up the words which I spew from my mouth. I mean I'm a great warrior and blah,blah, blah. I know you don't wanna know more about me since I don't know the answer to that question myself. "

[/right] Would it really matter if I had told him something which was so personal? My reason for even being in such a lovely area was to find the evil bastards who abandoned me. This blade would help me extract information to that very end, yet he hadn't needed to know that at all. His thoughts of me are probably of some weak cross dressing she-he, there is no need for me to answer anything more questions but merely start my own.

I looked upward at the ceiling of the tiny little humble shack. I was someone of evil and I greatly accepted my fate towards that end. I wanted to express what his second comment towards me opened up a hypocrisy in his words. I was enjoying my tiny little talk with him because everything being said was from me mostly. My words this time held nothing of sarcasm but where more light and comical in tone.

" I'll pay whatever more price that is needed. And I thought you were great at this? Why would I get a sub-par piece of work? Where is the confidence that was used earlier to tell me it would be greater then anything I could fine, Hehehee. "

My left hand, covered within the long sleeve of my jackets arms, rose to my mouth. A cute giggle resounded from me almost bouncing around within the same shack. I knew that might piss him off a little bit and I held a tiny bit of delight in knowing that tiny tid-bit of information. In order for my body to gain a comfortable position while leaning against the wall, I crossed my legs slightly. I started to like the craftsman I knew I would find one way or another to get upon his nerves. And when he cracked I might be able to have even more fun with him.
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[¤ SFS ¤]

With a slight sigh the genin did what he could to put the slight jabs from the client out of his mind. It only made him feel small to be mocked and then actually respond to said mocking or let it get to him. His patience took a kanabo to the face of his impulsiveness and there was no outburst from him regarding comments about his skill. At the end of the day the younger male would have a Katana better than any he had ever crafted and Sen's legacy as a craftsman would expand a little farther. For now though he would simply have to make due with putting up with the guy until his job was done. His head however began to grow annoyed with the thoughts of other problems he had. The crafting materials needed for items of the quality his tools and jutsu allowed him create now were costly and numerous. It stood to reason that even though his work would come out at a higher quality he wouldn't be able to craft as often cause simply put, he wouldn't be able to afford all the materials on a regular basis. C-rank missions didn't pay much and D-ranks paid even less. His numbers told him that in order to afford the materials to make another blade on par with the one he was making for his current client he would need to do ten D-ranks, or five C-ranks.

"Don't worry about the Ryo. You got me out of a tight spot so what you paid is enough. But it's important you know what this blade is worth, in case you need to sell it one day. Or, in case you come across something better." He couldn't quite believe the audacity of his own words. How likely was it that the guy would actually find something better than this weapon Sen was making for him anytime soon? His confidence was stabbed in the back by his sense of practically as he realized that he was still far off from being the best Takumi the world had ever seen and it, in fact, would be quite easy for the young man to find another, better, weapon elsewhere. If he had the Ryo, that is and chances were, that he did. But that wasn't his problem at all, if the younger guy was able to link up with someone who made better wares at an affordable rate then Sen would be the last one to hold him back. If his clients never sought out better craftsmen and better prices of those crafted wares he would never have a need to improve his skills. Even now with this guy and his pink katana he himself was taking a job that would have gone to someone else if he had not recently expand his knowledge in the craftsman profession.

Letting his mind go back to the part that actually was his problem he was hard pressed to accept that sweating day in and out on missions were the only way to make the Ryo he needed to afford the expensive crafting materials. While he was here still working and using up the first of his materials he needed to come up with a solution, although it was looking like the most likely solution was going to be "Charge people only slightly less than what a shop charges for those same items." It was a lame choice to make, but it was the only one he had, if he charged people too little he wouldn't have enough Ryo to make the next guy's weapon or item. This transaction was a perfect example: the weapon he was crafting for the young warrior had a value of ten thousand Ryo and all the materials needed to make it had a cost of five thousand Ryo. Yet, he'd only charged a little less than eight thousand to make it. That left a profit of only three thousand Ryo in his pocket, which was only a little more than half of what he would need to make another one. But in this case he spent the payment to pay for his tools so when the smoke cleared and the powerful pink katana was carried off in the hands of it's new master he would have no Ryo left to get anything and would have to wait until mission payment and Genin wages amassed enough to cover expenses for whatever he wanted to make for himself.

It was a sucky situation but he realized that as a professional he had to start from somewhere and that his problems weren't the problems of his client so he continued to work diligently to finish the final weapon with as much proficiency as he could muster. Taking the pink cloth from the dying bowl he hung it up to dry and began to fold the metal to increase the steel condensed inside of it thus amplifying it's durability and cutting power.

[enzan]

I noticed my jab had met it's mark, the silence that was created was a clue to that. I looked towards him as I could see the pink dye covered cloth. I inferred the pink would go down first then the black strap like lacing would go over it. My guess was as good as anyone's of what went into creating such a deadly weapon. However I could now see the it took intense dedication and work, something needed for future goals of mine. Images of blood and gore began to filter into my devastated mind, the promise of battle was something which never filled me with happiness.

Those thoughts were useless to me because of my inferiority complex, but that was would be overridden by my pride. Lissom legs would shift beneath my clothing allowing myself to move a bit along the wall. The move was towards the door but not to leave but more towards escaping the heat. The temperature was now uncomfortable within all of my clothes and gears, and I hated my sweat. A liquid that came from the very pours of my body disgusted me, it was like piss something I do not tolerate or even look at when I use the battle room. Bodily fluids have become something which gave me horrible thoughts because of what that bastard did to me.

" I would doubt that to be honest. I don't wish to sell a weapon but use it until it's lost it's usefulness. Yet even then I will keep it because no matter how worn or disgusting it maybe. . . it still has it's use. "

[/right] My last words, they would haunt me a bit, my teeth scraped against my bottom lip. Was I speaking about the weapon. . . or myself? I knew what had happened to me wasn't my fault, yet I couldn't get past the feeling of being useless. That was a horrid and despicable feelings something which sent shivers down my spine from my experience. I looked at the floor feeling that tingle of darkness, and endless abyss of suffering flooded my mind. The barrier within my that had locked away my depression was merely a brick wall and was being forced into submission by the deep tentacles depression uses.

" I will respect this blade and use it well, A weapon of death has one purpose but even that purpose makes it special. "

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[¤ SFS ¤]

It seemed as if he'd been folding the steel in this blade for hours. He counted at least eight folds each one being a little harder to pull off than the last. In the moments of the last fold he'd exposed the hilt to a heating source intense enough to make the metal of the hilt mold-able but not melt away. It was just his luck that he'd had a device specifically designed for punching holes in the ends of hilt to the use of attaching chains that would in turn be attached to one's own garments. It seemed that it was commonplace for Katana of that level to be treated as more than just weapons, but as personifications of one's own sense of justice, or their goals or ambitions and pride or any number of things. It was at this level, beyond the common fodder of blades one could buy instantly from a store, that one's blade became simply... something more

[/b]. This client of his who didn't seem like to type to care much for those aforementioned values still had very specific characteristic he wanted for his blade and of course as the young craftsman with his reputation on the line, Sen would oblige with vigor and precision.

Connecting the blade to the hilt was a tricky process and the only thing he was sure of was that doing so would amplify the heat in the tiny shack to a noticeable degree. Once the two were joined however he dropped it in the cooling solution and began to put away the tools that were no longer needed at this point in the crafting process. After that he gathered the polish oils and smoothing papers he needed to he the blade to it's most pristine state. The amount of grunt work that went into a crafting a weapon, or anything for that matter was mind boggling. There were so many things that anyone with half a brain could do, like polishing a finished blade for instance. The oils and papers did their job, with enough hard scrubbing and wiping from the craftsman that is. As the time came closer and closer to being done with his first item of this caliber he could feel his ego growing by a modest amount. He could tell the work he put into this katana compared to the countless kunai he'd made in the past. The truth was that this one was his first katana but he doubted that made it any less special and any less deadly. Once the blade was polished he allowed it sit in the sun and let the oils soak in leading to a more permanent shine in the metal. That meant it could retain it's shine for longer without having to be cleaned. As the blade sat in the sun however she he applied the same oils and papers to the sheathe as well. Only occasionally looking up to see the dawn approaching in the west.

He moved like a robot for a while as he sat applying the final cosmetics to the hilt and guard. He wrapped the pink cloth around the hilt with care. Too loose and the sword would slip form one's grip and normally there was no way to put the wrapping cloth on too tight but if you were physically capable of such a thing the damn cloth with snap and either situation would expose one to the blisters and aches that came with having to having a bare hilt with your bare hands. After the pink was wrapped and tied off firmly in place the black wrapped cloth was wrapped over it in segments so as not to totally hide the black underneath. The sweat beaded off Sen's face as he continued to work in truth sweat running down his face and forehead was one of the most annoying feelings in the world and as a child such a thing would send him into wild rage fueled rampages but today he was a man and he was craftsman. No sweat of pet peeves would stop him from finishing his first B-rank job, not when he was so close to being done. The purple fur was handled with care after the hilt was done and it adorned the tsuba and the hilt in the precise places the client wanted them to as Sen occasionally would being the katana to double check that everything was as the client wished it to be.

He went about packing up the rest of his tools used for sword crafting before taking the finished product to the client for final approval. He was sure he'd hit the nail on the head with his creation but it was protocol to present it to the client just in case something was missing. "It's all yours now, treat it like you should, and it'll never let you down."

SPOILER: Click to show

Katana
Rank: B
Type: Primary / Melee
Description: Commonly refereed to as a 'Samurai sword', the katana is characterized by its distinctive appearance: a curved, slender, single edged blade up to three feet in length, circular or squared guard, and long grip to accommodate two hands. As such, it has become renowned for its sharpness and cutting ability.
Cost: 10,000 Ryo

Six posts were done to create this B-rank katana for Agito he's already paid for the weapon so it needs to be added to his profile and the material spent to make it needs to be removed from Sen's.

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[~Kohana <3]

Sen- 60 (but barely, also, you can take away the ingredient stuff from your profile yourself)

Kyu- 47, +Katana (you can add it to your profile yourself)

[¤ SFS ¤]

One day at a time. When you made it back to your bed and reflected on the event that transpired in the fourteen or more hours since you had gotten out of that bed, you realized that you could only handle things one day a time. How much you got done in one day could change with dedication and temperament, rising with your skill and willpower but whether it's one thing or one thousand things, you could only take life and it's challenges one day at a time. Patrolling the evening streets for his quarry Sen was a bit perturbed that he had yet to handle anything thus far today. He'd sullied his hands gathering up a group of D-rank missions that most who possessed the cognitive development and reasoning of an adult could handle. Given that he was a was an adult himself on top of being shinobi meant he that all of the missions he had undertaken could be completed by him in no time at all. It was unlucky for him that at the point he arrived at the Tsuchikage's Tower all the missions had been taken and he had to wait for the next assortment of missions to make it to the board for him to take their tickets.

The approval process for missions wasn't a grueling one; after decades and generations of it the process of someone's problem being submitted to a ninja village and then approved by that village in the form of a mission to be carried by a ninja was pretty smooth. There weren't a lot of hurdles for a majority of the missions especially the C and D-ranks since those missions tended to take place inside the village thus probability of combat was lessened drastically and for most D-ranks combat prowess wasn't even necessary, a ninja only needed to be of able body to preform most D-rank tasks. Still, even the most elementary of missions had to be pre-approved and written out by the Iwa council, approved by the Tsuchikage, organized by Yoko and then put up by Yoko for whatever Iwa-nin was willing to take them and obviously in this case in particular, that Iwa-nin was none other than him. While he waited he tended to the medium sized backpack he had attached to his back. Inside it was the ingredients and materials he needed for his next crafting venture. When the mint-haired assistant finally came out with the next batch of missions the moon was in the sky and the day was no more. What's more was that there were so many missions open Sen took more than he probably should have taken in order to compensate.

With his missions taken and his backpack cooking, he let his mind drift on the subject of crafting back and forth between what was and what was going to be. Sometime recently, somewhere in the haze of kunai and sword making the genin's sense of savvy enterprising took over. In the past he had grown acquainted with a Kaguya who was Acting Tsuchikage until he proved himself worthy to become officially seated as the new Shadow of Earth and Leader of Iwagakure no Sato. Kaguya Kira took a great leap of faith for the slightly older genin and gave him the ryo needed for A-rank crafting tools. There was a whole thing he had planed about making free kunai to spread his name and draw in bigger projects to increase is experience in crafting as well as his clientele. It had been almost a year since then and much had changed for all involved; Kaguya Kira had long since left the village and Sen had long since returned the crafting tools and repaid Iwagakure no Sato the money he owed them that the A-rank crafting tools cost. He felt his FREE KUNAI plan didn't need A-rank crafting tools in order to work and so sold them and bought C-rank tools so that he could work his way up without having a debt crawling over his head. Since that time he had also expanded his crafting knowledge to wider and more elite areas. His best blades now could shatter his older work to pieces.

His old FREE KUNAI idea hadn't quite worked out how he'd hoped and though he couldn't quite remember the fine details of that plan he was sure it wasn't half bad a plan, he just knew his new plan was much more reasonable and obtainable. There was one item in all the items within his crafting expertise that had a higher value than all others he could craft on his own. Crafting that item in great number would take him up the ranking and get him that much closer to being the best Takumi the world (shinobi or otherwise) would ever see.

[¤ SFS ¤]

Wake Up !
Rank: D
Ninja needed: 1-3
Mission info: There’s an old drunkard sleeping on the front doorstep of the tsuchikage’s tower. Someone, anyone, wake him up and move him along !
Special Info: Can be repeated indefinitely.

Check the contents of his backpack he made sure to reposition all the materials and tools in the proper place before becoming mobile once again. The entirety of the crafting process for this item was a bit different than crafting a katana or kunai. The blades used steel or stronger alloys that needed to be melted, which took time. They needed to be shaped, which also took time and then they needed to be cooled which took even more time and then they needed to be polished and cleaned and wrapped and katana and other primary type weapons usually needed a scabbard of some kind as well, the crafting of which also took time. The point was that blade making took time with bursts of working with your hands in between those periods of waiting time. The item he was making now took a while to make but crafting it required more patience than time itself. It took patience to learn how all the tools and pieces have to be set up in order to generate the reactions needed to finish the item. Also one didn't have to be stationary as they were when crafting blades since there was no involvement of scalding hot metal in the crafting process.

The brilliance of his plan for this items and the ones after it involved mass producing them and selling them back to the item and crafting shops at a profit. The profit would be so much in fact that selling one would make him enough Ryo in the transaction to by enough materials to make another two of the item and so on so forth. After so many of the item are craft his skills would go up and allow him to make the item at an ever faster rate. Following that, once he had the funds needed he could easily purchase his own S-rank crafting tools and make the most powerful and deadly blades and weapons the shinobi world has ever seen with the exception of legendary weapons and armors which he doubted existed most of the time since he had yet to see one with his own eyes. What's more was that even when the time came to return to crafting blades the knowledge gained from crafting the items he was working on now would come in handy as long as he was a ninja in possession of powerful weapons and harvesting the knowledge to make more on demand. The energy spent improving his crafting of the item would extend his prowess in battle and not handicap it.

It was a perfect plan and made so much sense that sticking to it would be much harder than thinking it up.

As the backpack on his back served it's purpose he snapped back to reality and exited the Tsuchikage's tower quickly finding the man in question whom was the target of his first mission. A man was sleeping just outside the tower on grounds without a care for the rules society set in place that said such a thing was probably a bad idea. Nor did he care for the rules the Tsuchikage set in place that said such a thing was definitely a bad idea. "Some people are just born to be rebels." Crouching down the genin shook the shoulder of the older man forcibly in an attempt to wake him up. As he calmly waiting for some sort of reaction that would clue him into the old man's personality or reasoning for sleeping under the Kage tower he realized it was possible this old wasn't an old drunk at all but maybe a ninja of Iwa who had long since retired and wanted to relive a moment of prominence when he was a young and recognized as a Stone warrior. Then, the old man belched and the horrible cloud of noxious sake breath punched Sen in the face. He had to blow out of his nose hard to keep the smell from reaching his brain and making him puke. There were only a few things he could do to fix the situation and he wanted to avoid waking the man up and having to deal with any more of that breath than he'd already had dealt with. What the hell am I gonna do with this guy?

Another unsavory scent hit his nose as it escaped his backpack and without thinking twice the genin snatched up the old man over his shoulder and began to carry him away to a place that met all his requirements; a space within Iwa that is as secluded as it is quiet. Ample space wasn't needed but if the area was a small one it would have to be outdoors to properly ventilate his creation. As for the old man, Sen doubted the drunk would give a damn where he woke up as long as it was in range of another bar. Lucky old wino, you get to be there as I start the final voyage in my journey to becoming a craftsman of legend.

[¤ SFS ¤]

In only a matter of moments the genin found himself in what could have been described as a cave over in an area on the south side of Iwagakure. It was a place where the rocky surfaces were a little less smooth and the people were a little less present. He laid the old drunk down on the ground four meters away from where he would continue his work. His body went limp against the cold hard floor but his snoring endured so it could only be assumed that he was fine with where he was at the moment. If he woke up and didn't like his surroundings, or his company he would be free to go. But he would be free to go only after being given the swift kick up the ass and being told the grounds of the Tsuchikage's tower was a illegal place to sleep. He was sure he wouldn't need to repeat himself to the old smelly vagabond. If memory served this was a mission that occurred regularly although the genin was unsure of if it was always the same guy sleeping where he shouldn't be. The old man had barely moved a lick in his moments on the floor so Sen opted to move on to more pressing thing he was out to handle. The parameters of his mission designated that the drunk be removed from his sleeping position under the tower. What became of him after that was of no importance to the success or failure of the genin's mission. So in actually, even seemingly kidnapping the old fart and laying him down in the rocky middle of Iwa's sectional nowhere, he was still doing the guy a favor.

Carefully sitting on the ground he'd remove his backpack and carefully spread it's contents on the stone floor. Vials, flasks, containers and several other measure devices quickly came to litter the area. Sen was a bit pleased with himself for even knowing what all of these things were, let alone knowing how to use them. As a craftsman knowing one's tools was more important than knowing one's client. You couldn't make them their items if you didn't know to use your own tools. Crafting items that fell under the 'Medical' umbrella meant using a whole different world of tools. He wasn't making a thing used to hack at the flesh of another man, or destroy something of importance. He was making something that the holder would use on themselves. Something that would strengthen and empower them and possibly save their lives if used in battle at the right moment. Those fact alone changed the scale of his crafting, for anything could be a weapon. Making a katana was much harder than picking up a rock and using it as a weapon. Similarly making a restorative pill was much harder than giving first aid in the form of disinfecting alcohol and a bandage. Following those truths it was clear that picking up a rock and using it as a weapon was easier than giving first aid in the form of disinfecting alcohol and a bandage. Also making a katana was easier than making a restorative pill. It would always be harder to create than to destroy, harder to enable life than to harm it.

Each of the containers and vials held something in them. A liquid, or a solid material, some of them even held gas but each of them had a specific part to play in the crafting process of the pill he was creating. When he gazed at all the pieces of the crafting puzzle before him he mused on how much his tools and materials for this crafting set looked like that of a Herbalist. There were herbs and plants and powders waiting their chance to be mixed and distilled and amalgamated into something more than what they were separately. One of the largest containers spread before him was one of particular interest. An assortment of seeds and grass and select plants roots in small amounts all being consumed by tiny insects. It was the responsibility of the insects to provide a key ingredient needed to craft the pills. A specific enzyme they used to break down a specific kind of food they never naturally came into contact with in Iwagakure would be very present in their bodies. In order to break down the delicary they were presented with the insects would vomit on the plant root to break it down for consumption. Once enzyme in the vomit was on the root the genin would remove it from the container, much to the chagrin of the insects. Sticking the root in a small pot atop a fire source he filled it water and covered it immediately leaving the root to soft boil. "One pill at a time. I'll make my name as the genius of the crafting world one pill at a time." He'd become so engrossed in his process that it slipped his mind that the old man he brought with him was still sound asleep. "Old fool... you're missing all the action."

For all his initial efforts to keep the old man relatively safe until he awoke, the genin was hard pressed to admit he wanted to spent another moment playing baby sitter to a man that was old enough to be his grandfather. "If you aren't awake by the time this root finishes taking in water, I'm gonna leave you here for the wolves."