Nagato had once said that only when three blossoms bloom would Karin be allowed to go on missions. Unfortunately, no matter how long she trained, she had only managed two. In truth, given Karin's talent, being able to bloom two at such an age was already incredibly impressive—especially considering she still hadn't fully mastered chakra nature transformation.
Zaraki Kita stood with her arms crossed, smiling as she watched Karin on the training field. There was a trace of satisfaction in her eyes.
She had spent the entire afternoon reading aloud to Konan, stumbling over her words again and again. Near the end of the workday, Konan finally waved her off. Only then did she come to check on Karin.
The water arrows shattered as they hit the ground, dissolving into puddles. After training in Amegakure for so long, Karin was soaked through, and the field had become uneven and pitted—damage left behind where the water arrows struck. Gasping for breath, Karin knelt in the curtain of rain, clearly lacking even the strength to move.
Zaraki Kita walked over in a few quick steps, ruffling Karin's drenched hair with a smile.
"Y-you've i-improved."
After reading all afternoon, her throat was dry, her voice hoarse. Karin looked up at her, eyes full of grievance.
"Sister Kita, I still can't make three blossoms bloom."
She had truly been practicing this technique for a very long time.
"D-don't r-rush. T-take i-it s-slow."
"How can I not rush? Nagato said I only get missions if I bloom three."
There was a hint of complaint in her voice. Karin's strength was already comparable to a jonin, making her outstanding among her peers. But compared to the other Akatsuki members, she still fell far short. With dual water and earth chakra natures, Kagura's Mind Eye as support, and the Uzumaki clan's unique chakra traits, Karin didn't actually need to obsess over water-style taijutsu or ninjutsu alone.
Zaraki Kita smiled and picked up Karin's weapon, which was stuck in the ground. There were three Kusanagi swords in the world—two tangible, one intangible. Orochimaru's Sword of Kusanagi, the Ame-no-Habakiri, and the intangible Sword of Totsuka sealed within the Sharingan. The one Karin used was the Ame-no-Habakiri. Incredibly sharp and durable, it was a rare treasure—but taijutsu didn't become effective just because the weapon was a divine artifact.
Zaraki Kita unfastened it from her waist.
"T-try t-this."
Karin eagerly accepted. She refined her chakra again, formed hand seals, and cried out,
Three water slashes—two from clones and one from the main body—converged into a single point, erupting into a massive splash. As the water surged upward, one blossom formed, then a second. The third began to take shape faintly. Karin's heart leapt with joy. She increased her chakra output, stabilizing the third blossom that threatened to dissipate. As the three water blossoms spun in the air, they transformed into a rain of arrows, launching a ferocious, overwhelming attack.
The already uneven ground became even more devastated, a complete mess.
Karin cheered, her face glowing with triumph. Zaraki Kita smiled and waved her over. No longer a little kid, Karin ran up to her.
"Sister Kita! I did it!!! Did you see?! I really did it—three blossoms bloomed!!!"
Well, it's not like I'm blind.
Zaraki Kita rubbed the girl's head.
"When u-using h-high-level t-taijutsu w-weapons, t-they h-have t-to b-be s-special. I-it's n-not e-enough t-that t-they're j-just d-divine a-artifacts. C-come. I-I'll t-take y-you t-to m-meet s-someone."
With that, Great King returned to her waist. The Ame-no-Habakiri, however, remained firmly in her hand—clearly not being returned to Karin.
The blacksmith shop was still there. If anything had changed, it was that the storefront looked even more run-down than it had years ago. Zaraki Kita didn't see Kyubei, but she did see his apprentice—the boy named Shoji. Sitting by the bellows, he was hammering iron with all his might. Judging by his posture, he had already graduated.
"S-Shoji."
Zaraki Kita spoke up. Shoji glanced back briefly, then turned back to his work. He swung his hammer hard once more—then collapsed to the ground, the hammer slipping from his hand.
"Aaaah! Y-you're back!!! N-no—wait, y-you can talk now?!"
Clearly, many people were torn between reacting to her return and reacting to the fact that she could speak.
Zaraki Kita nodded, acknowledging both exclamations.
"W-where's K-Kyubei?"
The boy—no, the young man—set aside his work and ran into the house. Karin looked around the shabby smithy, fiddling with the various tools. Most were everyday ironware. There were kunai and shuriken, but not a single decent sword in sight.
"Sister Kita, what's so special about this place?"
"Where did this brat come from, spouting nonsense!"
The voice was loud and full of vigor. Kyubei emerged from the house. He wasn't exactly decrepit, but there were crow's-feet at the corners of his eyes, and much of his hair had turned white.
"You're not dead yet?!"
Not exactly pleasant words. Karin was just about to snap back angrily, but she was stopped.
"N-not d-dead."
Kyubei froze for a moment. Then his stern, rigid face broke into a wide grin.
"Hahahaha! Serves you right—the heavens wouldn't take you!"
Not kind words, but his expression was pure joy. Zaraki Kita smiled, resting a hand on Karin's shoulder.
"M-my d-student. W-water a-and e-earth."
"Let me take a look at Great King first."
Zaraki Kita nodded. When she handed over Great King, she also passed him the Kusanagi sword.
"Th-th-this i-is—"
Kyubei's beard trembled. Zaraki Kita casually pulled over a wooden stool and sat down.
L-let y-you e-enjoy i-it."
"Kid, go take that girl's measurements."
The order was directed at Shoji, who was eyeing Great King and the Kusanagi sword with envy. Zaraki Kita nodded to Karin, sending her along.
"This density, this material, this hardness—worthy of a divine artifact."
The Kusanagi sword called Ame-no-Habakiri was a straight blade. Even with reduced weight, its hardness remained intact. With current forging techniques, even the Land of Iron would struggle to achieve this. Unfortunately, such a sword wasn't suitable for taijutsu.
"Even the world's number one sword probably can't match this hardness."
"I-I d-don't g-get i-it."
"You play with blades for a living and you don't get this?"
Kyubei complained. Zaraki Kita laughed. He picked up Great King again, examining it with clear satisfaction.
"As expected of my finest work. In this lifetime, I doubt I'll ever forge anything that surpasses Great King."
Full of emotion, Zaraki Kita scratched her head.
"C-compared t-to K-kuro… w-which i-is b-better?"
"Kuro?"
"K-Kuro… w-whatever."
"Kurosawa?"
"Mm."
"Idiot! Of course the Great King is superior. Kurosawa can't carry taijutsu."
Kyubei sheathed the Great King and returned it with both hands, along with the Kusanagi sword. Then he sat down as well, as he always did, on the steps, pulling out his dry tobacco pipe.
"I heard you died. Vanished for years—and now you can talk."
"Y-yeah. A-an a-accident."
"Fake death, huh? Typical of you. Wasted a whole bottle of good liquor."
"W-what d-do y-you m-mean?"
"To celebrate you finally being dead. Hahaha!"
Zaraki Kita laughed too and waved her hand.
"A j-joke. H-how l-long w-will i-it t-take?"
"One-sword style or two-sword style?"
"O-one s-sword."
"Two months."
"T-that's l-long."
"Shoji's doing it. It takes time."
Kyubei took a drag from his pipe, smoke curling into the air.
Zaraki Kita frowned.
"A-are y-you n-not f-forging a-anymore?"
"I've retired."
Kyubei said it simply. Perhaps worried she wouldn't believe him, he added,
"Shoji's no worse than me. Your student isn't worthy of Great King's level yet."
Blunt words. Karin, who had just finished being measured and came back out, looked extremely displeased. Zaraki Kita burst out laughing and beckoned her over.
"F-for n-now, s-she'll u-use t-this."
As she spoke, she handed the Kusanagi sword to Karin. Kyubei inhaled a mouthful of smoke and immediately started coughing violently.
"Y-you f-forge i-it. M-money's n-not a p-problem."
Even without hearing the earlier conversation, the meaning was clear. Shoji snapped irritably,
"What do you know? My master retired the day you 'died.' One craftsman, one master—that's the rule of our trade—"