"I really won't say anything if you turn out to be able to handle him. But do not say I did not warn you, young Kazama." The head smith of the Muramasa Clan had his disciples bring over a chest and set it down in front of Kazama. Inside the chest was a sword inside a blood red sheath. The masterpiece of Muramasa. “So I herewith present to you Sengo Muramasa.”
Kazama’s eyes widened a little bit at the sight. “The cursed demon blade. Finally!” He wrapped his fingers around it and picked the sword up with both hands. “This is the only blade befitting someone like me. Do not worry, your warnings are unnecessary old man.”
“Heed your words,” the old smith smirked. “I do not want you to eat them later.”
When Kazama, Shiranui and Amagiri left the smith’s residence again, the latter looked at Kazama worriedly. “Are you sure you will be able to handle that sword?”
“You worry too much, Amagiri. Just because puny humans were unable to handle it. Of course they were because only a demon can handle a demon blade.” He patted the sword that was now securely tucked into his sash. “I am its rightful master.”
Amagiri frowned. “I hope that you will not eat your words, as the smith said.”
Shiranui grinned and muttered under his breath, “Would be funny though if he did.”
It did not take long for Kazama to get a chance to use his newly acquired sword. On their way back to their current base, they got into a scuffle with government forces. They did not pose any big threat - it felt like mowing down a few shrubs - and the trio was able to move on. Kazama felt a little disappointed. He was eager to test his blade on a real opponent soon. Someone worthy.
“So, what’s gonna happen from now on?” Shiranui asked when Amagiri left them to tend to different business. “Anything fun?”
“They’re having some kind of meeting at a place called the Ikedaya.” Kazama replied. “You do not need to bother with it but as the clan head I’m supposed to show my face.” He was less than thrilled at the prospect of having to deal with humans but it couldn’t be helped.
Shiranui grinned, “I’ll take you up on that.”
At night, Kazama had retired to his room and had placed Sengo Muramasa next to his futon. He had just closed his eyes when he heard a soft, low chuckle from next to him.
Jumping up, he drew his sword but there was no one to be seen. His demonic senses told him that no living being was anywhere close to his room at this hour. Kazama’s eyes narrowed because he could hear the low chuckle again.
‘Huhuhu, you seem like an interesting one. Let’s undress and get to know each other better, shall we?’ The voice was talking to him now.
Suddenly Kazama looked at the sword in his hand.
‘Let’s undress each other, shall we?’
He sheathed the sword again but as he did so he sliced through his night garments a bit, ripping the fabric and cutting his skin. It did not draw a lot of blood but it drew blood nonetheless. The low chuckling seemed to face a little as he placed the sword down again.
Sengo Muramasa. Once drawn, blood has to be shed.
Kazama clicked his tongue and inspected the wound. It was but a scratch and was already closing up but his garments were torn and bloodied. But he couldn’t be bothered and went back to bed. The words of the smith and of Amagiri were messing with his head. That had to be it.
Your turn aleena_mokoia ♥