A young swordsman's adventure 10

Realized I forgot to post this here. chapter 11 was posted right before this.

[Age 5]

Shimotsuki Kozaburo had a very distracting physical feature: His eyebrows were longer than most mustaches, and was styled like one, with long strands slicked to the side, and they bobbed when the man moved his head.

Why did he style his eyebrows this way? How did he manage to grow them out like that? The man was a swordsmith, shouldn’t he have burnt them off at some point?

Nevertheless, while Tanya was hardly an expert on sword quality, the blade she was presented shined, the pattern of the steel gleaming silver.

“It’s trash.” Kozaburo said of it. “But it's still the finest blade these damn useless hands of mine have made in a decade.” His hands shook unsteadily, some kind of old person disease ruining his coordination. He had supposedly needed special medicine in order to work long enough to make the blade, which cost twice as much as the metal and coal he used to make the blade, specially ordered from the Drum Kingdom.

“It will suffice.” Father declared. “What is its name?”

“Doesn't matter.” Kozaburo said dismissively. “It's a little girl’s sword, made exactly for her. She names it.”

With the exotic senses that this world enabled, what Father called Observation Haki, Tanya thought she could feel a presence within the blade. As if this sword lived, possessing a soul. “Gintama.” She announced. Faintly, she thought she heard the chime of a bell. Silver Soul…

Kozaburo’s eyebrows shot upward, his eyes widening in surprise at the name. “You speak Wanogo?” He asked in that tongue.

“Yes.” Tanya replied, also using that language. “It’s strange. This is the first time I've seen this sword, but…” why did it look exactly like her grandfather’s sword? Not Grandpa, but the man who taught her kendo, who spoke with pride on his samurai heritage, who was never satisfied with her skills.

“Hm. Well, maybe you have a swordsman’s heart after all.” Kozaburo said. “That blade has barely any killing intent. But it's got some, at least.”

“Is that how you make such fine blades?” Tanya asked, curious.

“A sword is like a kitchen knife, but for murder.” Kozaburo said insistently. “They are created to kill people. A blacksmith hones his craft so that his weapons are better at killing than any other.”

Ah. Now she understands. It was a sentiment she could wholeheartedly agree with.

“A sword has its own personality, and a swordsman must master it!” Kozaburo continued, a full head of steam pushing his rant forward. “When the weak fear a sword and call it cursed, that is a badge of honor!” The old man started coughing, hacking up a good of phlegm.

“Are you well, honored elder?” Tanya asked, still speaking Japanese.

“A sword should be frightening.” He said, deathly serious. “They are meant to cause terrible harm. That blade is a mere kitten, compared to the tigers out there. Remember that.”

Tanya looked once more on the shining steel. “A kitten, huh?” She mused. “Well, Gintama, how about we start sharpening each other’s claws?”

-------------------------

[Age 8]

Jinbei kind of reminded her of a Yakuza boss. That was a bit uncharitable, but the whale shark fishman’s scowl combined with the kimono and those tattoos really gave off that kind of air.

Well, also the fact that all of his crew called him Boss instead of captain.

Fisher Tiger had been taken out by a joint Cipher Pol/Marine operation, and somehow the thuggish fishman before her managed to wrangle a pardon by becoming one of the Seven Warlords, replacing the now-dead Tora. This includes releasing Sun Pirates that were currently imprisoned. Tanya should have expected the Navy to be eager to gain some kind of aquatic fighting force, but she was still surprised until she thought it through.

“So what did you think of Doflamingo?” Jinbei asked Father. They were seated at a low table, with cups of sake. Tanya was currently drawing while getting doted on by a large mermaid, enjoying some of Fishman Island’s world famous saltwater taffy. So sweet and citrusy, with a salty complement… delicious.

“When I heard his name was Donquixote Doflamingo, that set expectations.” Father said, sipping at his sake. “He has somehow managed to be even worse than that.”

“Oh? I don't recognize the name.” Jinbei said, confused.

“I'm not surprised. Does the Ryugu Kingdom have public education? Few countries do.” Father said, “Donquixote is one of the Celestial Dragon families.”

“It does, but I didn't go. Few fishmen do, it's only useful if you want to be a court functionary.” Jinbei replied, not taking offense. “But that does make sense. He's even worse?”

Father nodded. “Most Celestial Dragons are sadistic and amoral, but they have this… childish way about them. The idea that anyone that's not another one of them would do anything but immediately comply on fear of death with their every whim is incomprehensible to them.” He downed the rest of his sake cup, setting it down so that Jinbei could pour him another. “Doflamingo knows exactly how horrible he's being, and it makes him enjoy it more.”

“Hm. I see.” Jinbei said, before emptying his much larger sake cup. He set it down, and Father filled it back up, the massive sake jug looking vaguely ridiculous in his hands. “Never thought I'd meet someone who considered being one of the Seven Warlords slumming it.”

“Nothing is too ridiculous for this world.” Father said sagely, before taking another sip.

There. She was done with the drawing of Jinbei. It was quite nice, if she said so herself. It wasn't photorealistic or anything, she wasn't that good at shading or texturing her art, but it was distinctly recognizable. “That’s a good picture.” The mermaid, whose name was Amairei, said to Tanya. For what must be the seventh time, the aptly-named mermaid crushed Tanya to her chest, which was collectively larger than Tanya’s entire body. She was a beluga sturgeon mermaid, apparently.

That wasn’t to say that the affection was unpleasant, but it was undignified to be treated like a pet. Wait, idea! “How about I draw you next, Miss Amarirei?”

“Ooh! Yes, I’d like that.” The mermaid said excitedly. “You’re very talented, Tanya. You should draw bounty posters.” That actually sounded like a decent career option, but it was best reserved as a fallback option, she thinks. How much do police sketch artists get paid?

Talent. Bah. This was the result of two years of having nothing better to do while sailing on a tiny boat. Long hours of practice. Not talent.

Tanya walked to her father’s side, taking out the stiff leather satchel she used for her art and replacing the Jinbei sketch with a fresh piece of paper. She sat on the cushion Father was on, as there was space, and used him as a backrest to get comfortable as she started her new piece. He shifted his arm, laying it across Tanya’s collar to get it out of the way and resting his hand on Tanya’s shoulder.

When both of them were settled and comfortable, Tanya started her sketch. Amarirei had decided to pose in a relaxed position, laying on her stomach while using her breasts as a cushion, holding up her head in her hands. To finish the relaxed view, she positioned her tail upwards and a bit to the side, as if she was kicking her legs at the knee, for a human equivalent.

Well, actually mermaids had proper human leg bones in their tails, oddly enough. When they gave birth, their tails split and they could, after some recovery, walk normally with the legs, although it was her understanding that walking on their fins wasn’t as comfortable as human feet. It was customary to pretend they couldn’t for a while, claiming that mermaids split their tails at age 35, so as to preserve the mystique of a youthful vibrant woman, but that was just vanity. How this odd biology led to mermaids being the fastest things in the ocean? It was a mystery.

“Fatherhood suits you, I think.” Jinbei said to Father. He hummed neutrally. “Can she use that sword?” he pointed to the sword stand that Father had set up next to him, where Gintama and Yoru rested.

“She’s learned the forms, picked up the basics of Haki, and can sometimes manage a flying slash…” Father outlined. Tanya flushed at the mention of ‘sometimes’. She had a success rate of about one in three, with success defined as cutting something that was ten meters away. Even that much required a firm stance and a lengthy wind up that was unacceptable for a combat technique. “For her age, she’s very strong. But she still has a long way to go before she’s strong enough to be able to forge her own path in this world.”

Jinbei hummed contemplatively. “That’s a bit unusual, training a girl to be strong like that.”

Father chuckled. “Son or daughter, it does not matter. The world is unkind to those who can’t shape their own fate.” He sipped more at his sake. “If Tanya proved untalented, or unwilling to put in the work to further her sword skills, perhaps things would be different. But that is not the child I’m raising, so it is pointless to speculate.” Idly, he squeezed Tanya closer to his side.

“Hrm, that’s true.” Jinbei said, his voice naturally making it come out as a grumble. “It makes me wonder if I should find the time to start a family, but the fight for Fishman rights and status needs to be fought.”

“It does.” Father agreed, “The Fishmen are not the only group that the World Government oppresses, or wishes to take as slaves just for being what they are. When you fight for the Fishmen, you fight for them too.”

“Oh?”

“Hancock didn’t show up for the meeting, but she became a Warlord for a similar reason as yourself: to protect her home.” Father explained, “Amazon Lily could be an ally in your fight, if you approach them properly.”

Jinbei hummed in interest. “Interesting… I didn’t know.”

“Hancock is not a particularly diplomatic pirate,” Father hedged, “-but few hate the Celestial Dragons as strongly as she.”

“I’ll remember that.” Jinbei said, thoughtful.

It was nice seeing Father do some proper networking, using his position to create a power base of favors and allies independent of the World Government and his own personal strength. After all, if the Warlord’s primary leverage over the government was their strength, gaining allies among the other ones naturally would increase the cost of revoking that status, and that improves their margin of safety.

Excellent.

-------------------------

[Age 9]

One of the more annoying parts of living on a tiny boat that was approximately the same size as that one room shack she lived in was that there was basically no privacy. Bathing was done on the deck with a scrubber and heated seawater, although there was a water filter on the ship that could clean it of algae and other detritus quickly enough, cleaning it of the salt required a slower, more thorough process. As such, it was usually done simultaneously.

Things would have been worse had Father not bought an upgraded boat. His old one was basically a raft, with everything used for living being a series of jars, barrels, and boxes. Kamisogi at least has a refrigerator, a toilet, a cooking plate, and the aforementioned water purifier. He just saw nothing wrong with going a week without a bath, eating preserved food exclusively, and pissing over the side of the boat.

…Okay, in all fairness, she was incredibly envious of his ability to do the latter. Being a girl sucked. Fortunately, the man was aware enough that forcing anyone else, much less a five year old girl, to go through similarly ascetic conditions was cruel. Thus, the upgrade. As bad as Kamisogi was to live in, it was still a step up from that shack.

This was also why Father always sprung for the best accomadations that the islands they visited had to offer. “Ah, a real bed!” Tanya shouted, leaping onto the soft, downy mattress. “It’s been so long…”

“Did you enjoy the baths?” Father asked as he cleaned Yoru. “It hasn’t been that long.”

Tanya glared at the man. “You said the trip would only be four days. Four days! It was fourteen!” Was she acting like a child? Yes. He deserved it, though.

“I’m sorry for mixing up my Vivre cards.” He said again, by rote. “But we did make it in time for the tournament. Is there anything you want before it starts tomorrow?”

Ah yes. They were in San Faldo, the “Carnival Island”. Among their many tourist attractions was the largest gladiatorial arena in Paradise. King Presley had offered one hundred million beri to offer a week’s lesson to the tournament victor, which would be the advertised prize, and an additional hundred million if he actually followed through, although the winner of the tournament can claim this sum in lieu of the lesson if desired.

Really, Father’s veritable card catalog of vivre cards was large enough that mixing up the one sent with the invitation to San Faldo with the one to the Baratie was an easy mistake to make. And they did get to dine at the nicest restaurant in the East Blue… but it required a detour through Reverse Mountain in order to make it back to the Grand Line in time. The trade current to Sabaody was much closer to San Faldo than Reserve Mountain was, but seeing as how they found themselves all the way at the Polestar Islands… Argh.

Tanya ran her hand through her hair, or tried to. It was stopped by that blasted towel she needed to use to effectively dry it. Long hair was a pain… Wait. She can fix that. “I want a haircut.” Tanya declared, “I’m tired of long hair.”

“Your grandmother’s not going to like that.” Father warned her.

“I don’t care!” Tanya snapped back. “She doesn’t have to live with it!” As it turned out, Grandma used to have long hair, but she cut it short so she wouldn’t resemble her bounty poster anymore. It was far from a foolproof method, but it vastly cut down on the frequency of bounty hunters. The woman had way too much fun styling Tanya’s hair when they visited.

Father nodded slowly. “It would go well with your disguise…” He mused.

They had agreed that the ideal ending for this tournament would be for Tanya to win it personally, so they could get both the extra money, and not have to spend the week training the winner. The deception need only last long enough to let them claim the money. “First thing in the morning, we go clothes shopping.”

“You know…” Father said, thoughtful. “If you want short hair, we could try to disguise you as a boy for the tournament.” He looked at her with a cautious expression. “If you want. It would make the deception easier if you did.”

…Yeah, that was an option, wasn’t it? Tanya smiled. “That sounds like fun.” She said, grinning widely. “I could use more pants, anyway.”

-------------------------

“First, we introduce one of the favorites to win,” Tanya rolled her eyes. San Faldo’s arena was not particularly known for powerful fighters, they didn’t accept pirate entrants and it was rare for Marines to find the time to attend. The prize of lessons from Father was only really attractive to those without substantial backing. “-representing Water Seven’s shipwrights, the strongest swordsman among the Water Seven Carpentry Academy, everyone show what you think of Zambai the Dismantler!”

Zambai was a large man, over two meters tall, wearing very sturdy boots, gloves, and overalls. His sword was sized properly for him to use with two hands, although he waved it casually enough that he could clearly use it with one. His fiery hairstyle was complemented with some darkened goggles, good for welding.

The crowd seemed to love to hate Zambai, which made sense when you considered how, despite the economic boom San Faldo received from the Sea Train, it was always easier to hate a neighbor than it was to hate a distant enemy, particularly one who provokes envy like the shipbuilding capital of the world, Water Seven.

After the jeers died down, the announcer continued. “Hailing from Nishihoshi Island, this little guy decided that he could run with the big boys!” Was Tanya’s first introduction. “But he came with a Graded blade, so we decided to let him try! Everyone please welcome… Tensei!”

Tanya held Gintama up to the sky as she entered the arena. ‘Rebirth’ was not exactly a creative alias, but it fit. It will be her own private joke. She couldn’t go around calling herself Tanya when presenting a male persona, after all. Tanya took a deep breath as the crowd cheered, running her hand through her now short hair. It felt so nice… like a weight was cut loose along with the hair.

Tanya glanced up at the VIP box, where Father was leaning forward in interest alongside King Presley. It was easy to read his expressions by now: He expected this brute to give her a challenge.

Why would he? Sure, he was big, but his stance was lazy, arrogant. Zambai expected an easy battle. It burned pride that Tanya didn’t even realize she had, to see that dismissal. She tightened her grip on Gintama as she took a combat stance, and she could hear a buzzing from the sword, eager to be used in battle.

Zambai stomped forward with his long limbs, readying an overhead strike to end this battle quickly. In an instant, Tanya saw how the reckless man nevertheless was ready to defend any counterattack, as well as to adjust for the most obvious dodges.

Unfortunately… he was slow. With one slice, Tanya cut through his sword and cleanly removed his goggles by severing the strap on the bridge of his nose. Never before had her haki been so… responsive. She felt stronger than she ever has.

No matter who was sent against her, from royal guards to bounty hunters, Tanya swiftly dealt with them with a single cut. It was almost insultingly easy. “-and the winner of the San Faldo 84th annual swordfighting tournament is none other than… Tensei!” Despite the ease of the feat, Tanya felt pride surge in her chest as her fake name was announced. Smiling, she glanced once more at her father, who was… jumping into the arena?

The announcer didn’t miss a beat, shouting into the snail that functioned as a microphone. “Oh, what’s this? Is Hawk-Eyes going to give his new student a test? To see if he’s worthy?”

Father had apparently borrowed a sword from someone in the VIP box, because he had an ordinary blade in his hands, Yoru staying on his back. “You’ve grown.” He said, “More than I expected. Come at me! Show me the strength of your spirit!” The blade he carried started to darken, becoming as black as Yoru as he channeled his haki through the nameless blade.

Tanya was still annoyed at him, so she focused as much strength as she could through Gintama. “Ginto Issen!” She shouted as she used Father’s ship-cutter technique.

“Kokuto Issen.” He said in response as he perfectly parried her attack with his own. Between them, a trench opened up splitting the entire arena in two, the cut about three meters deep. “Hm. I wonder… Why is it that this tournament, filled with dull blades, allowed you to shine so brightly?” He sheathed the blade he had borrowed. “I accept your resolve, Tensei!” He shouted across the trench, loud enough for the audience to hear. The sentiment may have been superfluous, but it made Tanya’s chest swell with emotion nonetheless.

The crowd’s cheers drowned out anything else. Crowds loved melodrama, even more than Father did.

-------------------------

[Age 12]

Tanya hated funerals. They always made her feel… wrong. Not because she felt overwhelmed with emotion, but because she wasn’t. They were awkward, and even those she was supposed to care about dying… she felt nothing for. It was twisted, and making such a bother over dead soldiers in her second life was even more pointless, for every funeral that was thrown, there were thousands of dead soldiers who barely rate a single second of silence over their passing. Those pitiless deaths with barely a mention during the sunday sermons always seemed more honest to her, they didn’t bother glorifying the death, just ‘this man is dead’.

Perhaps it would have been different, if she had lost one of her 203rd. It wasn’t difficult to admit that she had grown a touch attached to them, after investing so much time and effort to train each one. She wouldn’t know, the only loss worthy of the word that she had experienced was this life’s mother, and even then, it was a mass funeral.

The funeral just made it hurt more. Spending time dwelling on things was unproductive. She should know, she spent a decade dwelling on Being X, and it didn’t give her anything useful. She didn’t know if he was even involved with her trip here, but while she was so certain of it, the day of that funeral… now she wasn’t sure.

Nevertheless, this funeral, at least, was one hundred percent her own fault. “You served well, Gintama.” She whispered. For the second time, she felt tears well up during a funeral, and for the second time, she let them flow. “I hereby award you the Silver Wings Assault Medal, for valor in the face of overwhelming odds.” Tanya had one forged for her a couple of years ago, turned into a pendant. She wrapped the cord around Gintama’s hilt, the remaining sixth of the blade still attached keeping it inside the sheath that was planted on the hill. The medal dangled in front of it, positioned just right.

Saifu could no longer abide the somber tone of the sword funeral. She transformed into full corgi form, literally licking Tanya’s tears away. Tanya giggled at the affection. “Oh you silly dog.” She said, smiling as she wiped her tears away. “Well, let’s go. Funerals are a waste of time.” Hopefully, Father has some Graded blades that he got when she wasn’t playing secretary to him.

For an instant, she thought she heard some words on the wind… but it was probably nothing. After all, she’d done nothing worth thanking her over.

-------------------------

“As you know,” Father began as he led her towards one of the castle’s many vaults. “-the difference between a normal sword and a Graded blade has little to do with the iron quality or forging techniques,” Which did matter, but only in the sense that inferior blades on those metrics never became Graded, “but instead whether or not the sword has its own spirit. Even Gintama occasionally spoke with you, acted in concert with you.” Tanya nodded. It was mystical nonsense… but again, haki was basically magic. So it was literal in this world, well-made swords have souls, and it makes the sword stronger.

They stopped at one of the vaults. Surprisingly, they were actually pretty secure: the castle came with the current vault combinations, and with instructions on how to set the five number combination lock to a new set of numbers… which required that the vaults be open. “So is here where you’ve stored your new sword collection?” Tanya asked. She knew he had one, but hasn’t bothered to look at it.

“No, this vault has just one.” He said, finishing entering the combination. “Behold… the first Kitetsu.”

The sword was placed in its own rack, with ropes securing it to each corner of the vault. The ropes had holy seals dangling on them, as if they were holding back a great evil. “Was all of this necessary?” She asked.

“No.” Father said immediately. “But it gives it an excellent foreboding ambiance, don’t you think?” Tanya begrudgingly nodded. Her first impression of her father as an artistic sort wasn’t often vindicated, but he had become something of an interior designer when it came to decorating the castle.

Shodai Kitetsu was a katana, similar to but  larger than Gintama, but not so large that Tanya felt that she could not wield it. Compared to how large the practice blade was compared to her when she first received it, it was about the same size. It made Tanya wonder how long he had been planning on securing this particular sword…

Despite this being nominally one of the twelve Supreme-Grade swords, Tanya couldn’t detect a single hint of soul from it. Odd…

Then Father cut the ropes binding it away. Tanya’s throat seized up as she felt the explosion of… something. Did this sword have its own haki? “A sword that has served a swordsman of sufficient strength for long enough turns black.” He picked up Shodai Kitetsu, utterly ignoring the roaring spirit inside. “There are five Black Blades in the world, but only two have been that way since the day they were forged, infused with the unbending will of their smiths. Yoru is one… and this is the other.” He drew the sword, and the bloodlust in the air redoubled. If she didn’t know any better, she could imagine herself mistaking this feeling for her Father being an instant away from killing her.

“...That’s Gintama’s replacement?” Tanya asked weakly. It actually was starting to remind her of something… some kind of familiarity…

“Your final test.” Father said dramatically, “-is to become this blade’s master. The Kitetsu line of swords are the most bloodthirsty in the world, so much so that they are commonly considered cursed. To direct that battle mania without losing yourself to it… It is the greatest test that I can devise for your Conqueror’s haki.”

Tanya’s eyes widened. So that’s why! “So I am to make the sword submit to me?”

Father nodded. “Enough of a working relationship to allow you to use it.” He clarified, “Follow me to the dueling courtyard.”

-------------------------

Father was across from her, holding Yoru in a ready stance. “Draw it, and see the task before you.” He said, deathly serious.

Tanya took a deep breath as she picked up Shodai Kitetsu and placed it on her back. Saifu had been put in her kennel, as this was not an event that she could help much with.

Even when sheathed, Shodai Kitetsu roared in anticipation, her Observation hearing the sword’s spirit clearly. The last time she saw such joy in violence was… That last speech she gave her men. She had riled them up with talk of duty, glory, and a chance at violence that was about to slip their grasp. Their roar, begging her to let them off their leash… It was a lot like this.

Tanya drew the sword, and called up her haki, infusing it into the blade blade and commanding it to obey her, the feeling long familiar. She was the Devil of the Rhine, the leader of the 203rd Aerial Mage Battalion…

…who willingly lost themselves to the type 95 for the power to survive. Tanya’s hands and calves ached as she looked up at the sky, where the bright patch in the cloud cover that indicated the sun’s position was a degree or two further along than the last time she looked at it. “...What just happened?” She asked. Pinpricks of pain littered her body, but it wasn’t more than she’d come to expect from a tough training session.

Father offered her his hand to help her up, and she took it. Looking him over, he had a single cut on his cheek, staining his beard with blood. Her own state… The simple, sturdy dress she had worn to this training session was in tatters, to the point of indecency if there was anyone else present to witness it. Small cuts littered her body, so small that she knew from experience they would seal without a scar overnight. Humanity in this world was quite a bit more resilient than the previous ones, but she’s used to it by now.

“Where…” Tanya asked, looking around for Shodai Kitetsu. She winced as the motion reminded her of her now destroyed chest bindings. She found it quickly, the sword was embedded in the wall, and it was a simple matter to withdraw the blade and start cleaning it. It was sated, for now.

“You tried your best to kill me.” Father said casually. “I took it easy on you, tried to give you time to gain control back, but you eventually scored a cut.” He gestured to his face. “So I ended it there.”

‘I failed.” Tanya said glumly.

“You should know by now that I never expect you to complete a test on your first try.” Mihawk said, ruffling her hair. “You were surprisingly focused, for someone who lost control of yourself. It’s almost… Hm. I’m not sure how to describe it.”

Hm. Interesting. Tanya sheathed Shodai Kitetsu, using her now free hand to hold her chest in place. “Let’s go, I need to get these cuts cleaned up.” and a bath, and new clothes, and food… training was over for the day. Saifu needed some attention.

Still… At least this time the mind-controlling weapon was much simpler this time. She’ll turn it into a productive tool eventually.