"This place hasn't changed at all."
Shin's voice carried across the empty expanse of the Stardust Stadium, echoing off stone walls that had witnessed more bloodshed than any battlefield he'd ever commanded. The suspended coliseum hung against the mountainside like a jewel of violence, its open ceiling revealing the tapestry of stars that gave this cursed place its name. The irony wasn't lost on him—something so beautiful overhead, while below, human misery played out for the entertainment of those who had forgotten what it meant to value life.
The Kazekage moved slowly through the fighter's entrance, his boots stirring dust that hadn't been disturbed in months. The Golden Sanctuary sprawled in the distance below, its towers gleaming even in the darkness, a monument to the Baron Twins' greed and cruelty. This stadium, built into the mountain's edge like a parasite, served as their playground. A place where human trafficking victims fought for scraps of freedom or died trying. Where "special attractions"—shinobi captured and broken, bloodline wielders stripped of dignity, refugees desperate enough to trade their lives for coin—bled out on sand that had drunk more tears than rain.
He remembered training here once, back when the world was simpler. When Seikatsu had teased him about keeping pace. When Maho had first shown him Soul Synchronize. When Kohana had still resided within him, a constant presence that both protected and defined him. The memory felt like it belonged to a different person entirely. Perhaps it did. The man who had trained here had been working toward exaltation, toward becoming someone who didn't need to hide behind others. The man who walked these halls now carried the weight of twenty-three confirmed dead, with five days until he would lead his people into a war that might consume them all.
The arena floor stretched out before him, sand stained with old blood that no amount of wind or time had managed to erase completely. Shin knelt, letting his fingers trail through the coarse grains, feeling the residual chakra signatures of dozens—no, hundreds—of fighters who had stood where he now crouched. Some had walked away. Most hadn't. The earth itself remembered their suffering, holding onto their final moments like a shrine no one would ever visit.
"I wonder how many of them were shinobi from villages that fell. How many were simply unlucky enough to be born with a bloodline the Twins wanted to see in action."
His words weren't directed at anyone in particular. Shin had come alone, leaving his escort behind in the tunnels below. This reconnaissance required subtlety, not force. The Baron Twins held events here regularly, and while the stadium stood empty tonight, it would soon fill again with spectators hungry for violence. He needed to understand the layout, the security measures, the ways in and out that wouldn't be guarded during the chaos of an event. Intelligence gathering. Cold, tactical work that did nothing to address the rage building in his chest with every step through this monument to human suffering.
He forced the emotion down, channeling it into focus. Anger had its place, but not here. Not now.
Moving through the gladiator preparation areas, Shin found what he'd expected: cells barely large enough for a person to lie down, rust-stained chains bolted to walls, and the lingering smell of fear that no amount of ventilation could ever fully remove. Some cells still contained personal effects: a child's toy carved from wood, a strip of cloth that might have been part of a headband, a broken pair of glasses held together with wire. Tokens of humanity clinging desperately to a place designed to strip it away.
In one of the deeper preparation chambers, away from the main holding cells, Shin discovered something unusual. A weapons cache, but not the standard arena equipment meant for show fights. These were real combat implements, many of them clearly taken from defeated fighters as trophies. Swords, kunai, chakra-conductive weapons, even a few puppet components scattered among the collection. The Baron Twins, or whoever managed this stadium for them, kept their prizes like hunters displaying kills.
It made his skin crawl.
Shin moved methodically through the cache, his Medical Chief training allowing him to identify bloodstains and chakra signatures with clinical precision. Most of these weapons had ended lives. Some bore the distinctive marks of village-forged steel—a tanto from Cloud, a nodachi that could only have come from Mist's master smiths from before the frost, even a pair of feathersteel daggers that might have belonged to one of his own people before everything went wrong for Sunagakure.
Then he saw it.
Tucked in the corner, almost invisible beneath a pile of damaged armor, was a small wooden case. The wood itself seemed unremarkable at first glance—dark, aged, inscribed with characters so worn they were nearly illegible. But the moment Shin's fingers brushed against it, he felt something shift. Not movement in the physical sense, but a stirring of consciousness that shouldn't exist in an inanimate object.
The case practically hummed with contained energy, a frequency just slightly off from normal chakra signatures. Spiritual essence, but not quite ghost. Natural energy, but not quite sage chakra. Something in between. Something that felt oddly... alive.
Shin carefully lifted the case free from its hiding place, noting how light it felt despite appearing solid. The wood was smooth despite its age, almost warm to the touch, and those worn inscriptions seemed to shift slightly in the dim light. Not actually moving, his rational mind insisted, but his sage-trained senses argued otherwise. He could feel the case's awareness, could sense it evaluating him just as surely as he was examining it.
"Well now. What are you doing buried in a place like this?"
The question felt appropriate somehow, like addressing a person rather than an object. Shin's experience with the Yurei Orchid and the Kodama that inhabited the Arboretum had taught him that consciousness could manifest in unexpected forms. The Tsukumogami—living artifacts awakened through infusions of spiritual and natural energy—were rare, but they existed. He'd read about them in the Oracle archives, studied the theories behind their creation, but never expected to encounter one firsthand.
Setting the case on a relatively clean section of floor, Shin settled into a cross-legged position before it. He let his sage chakra grow before allowing it to flow gently outward, not as an attack or even an examination, but as an introduction. A way of saying: I see you. I acknowledge your existence.
The response came immediately.
The case's latches clicked open without anyone touching them, the lid rising slowly to reveal its contents. Inside, nestled on faded silk, rested a tanto. The blade was perhaps twelve inches long, its edge pristine despite the obvious age of its construction. The steel caught and reflected starlight in ways that seemed physically impossible, creating patterns that looked almost like writing across its surface. The handle was wrapped in deep blue cord, and the guard bore an inscription in characters that predated modern kanji.
But what truly captured Shin's attention was the presence emanating from the weapon. Not hostile, exactly, but wary. Evaluating. The tanto possessed awareness that went beyond mere enchantment. This was a Tsukumogami, awakened into sentience from what had once been a simple tool.
"You've been waiting," Shin said softly. "Buried here among trophies and blood-bought steel, waiting for someone who would recognize what you truly are."
He didn't reach for the blade immediately. Instead, he let his sage chakra continue its gentle flow, creating a field of calm intent around them both. Small plants began to grow around the man and flowers would bloom to bring life to a place filled with death. The tanto's consciousness pressed against his awareness—not aggressive, but testing. Measuring his worth. Determining whether he deserved to even touch something that had transcended its original purpose to achieve a form of life.
Memories flickered through the connection. Fragmented images of previous wielders, battlefields long since turned to dust, purposes both noble and terrible. The tanto had served many masters over the centuries of its existence. Some had been honorable. Others had not. It had been lost, claimed as spoils of war, traded between collectors, and eventually ended up here—locked away because whoever had defeated its previous owner either didn't recognize its true nature or simply didn't care.
"I am Chikamatsu Shin," he introduced himself formally, speaking as much with his chakra as with words. "Twelfth Kazekage of Sunagakure, Medical Chief of my people, Overseer of the Chikamatsu Clan, and bearer of the Yurei Seal. I stand here not to claim you as a trophy, but because I recognize your nature. You are a Kodama, no? A Tsukumogami—a living artifact, consciousness awakened through the merger of spiritual and natural energies. You are not a tool to be wielded by just anyone."
The presence shifted, seemed to consider his words. Then, slowly, a response formed. Not in words exactly, but in impressions that translated themselves into meaning within Shin's mind.
`Why should I bond with you? What makes you different from the warriors who came before? They all promised purpose. They all claimed righteousness. And yet here I remain, locked away among corpse-taker's prizes.`
Fair questions. Honest ones. The tanto had been disappointed before, had served those who proved unworthy of its sentience. Why should Shin be any different?
"I can't promise I won't disappoint you," Shin admitted, his honesty radiating through their connection. "I carry the weight of lives lost, and in five days I will lead my people into a war where more will certainly fall. I have been broken—literally had my mind torn apart—and put back together into something that isn't quite the same as what I was before. I make mistakes. I falter. I question every decision even as I make it."
He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"But I also stand here because I refuse to let places like this continue to exist. Because I look at this stadium—this monument to suffering built by those who view human life as entertainment—and I feel rage that I can barely contain. I came here tonight to gather intelligence, to plan an assault that will end the Baron Twins' grip on Wind Country. And I found you, buried among weapons taken from the defeated, waiting."
The tanto's consciousness pressed closer, examining not just his words but the intent behind them. Shin felt it sifting through his surface thoughts, glimpsing fragments of recent battles. The golden cracks still healing on his flesh. The twenty-three names memorized. The burden of command settling back onto shoulders that had briefly been free of it.
`You burn yourself out for others. You convert life itself into power, caring nothing for the cost to your own existence. Why?`
"Because the alternative is watching people I care about die when I could have prevented it," Shin said simply. "I chose to become Kazekage knowing it would mean exactly this. Knowing I would stand between my people and threats that wanted to consume them. Knowing I would have to make choices that would haunt me. The Chikamatsu have a saying: 'The life of service is more noble than royalty.' I took that to heart long before I ever claimed a title."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant howl of wind across the mountain's edge. Then, slowly, the tanto's presence shifted from wariness toward something that might have been approval.
`You speak truth. I sense no deception in your intent, no hidden desire to claim me as a prize. Your consciousness... it is unusual. You already host other presences. The Yurei Seal. Your Inner Circle. And yet there is space for partnership rather than possession.`
"The Tsukumogami grimoires tell that awakened objects choosing their partners," Shin said. "Not be claimed by, but choosing. I would offer you purpose again, but only if our goals align. I march against tyranny. Against those who built this place and ones like it. If that resonates with you..."
The tanto's blade caught starlight again, creating those impossible patterns across its surface. This time, Shin could read them. They spelled out a single word in archaic script: *Partnership.*
`I am called Seimei no Ha—Blade of Clarity. I was forged by a master smith who sought to create something that could cut through the deception of the Ancient Courts as easily as flesh. Over centuries, I awakened to consciousness, and have served many who claimed righteous purpose. Most failed to live up to their promises. But you... you already know you will fail... sometimes. You accept your limitations while refusing to let them define you. That honesty, Kazekage, is rarer than you imagine.`
Shin felt something shift in the connection between them. Not quite acceptance yet, but the beginning of possibility. The Tsukumogami was offering a trial, a chance to prove whether his actions would match his words.
"Then let us find out together," Shin said, extending his hand slowly toward the blade. "Let us see if I can be worthy of your partnership. And if I fail to meet the standard you require, I hope you will tell me directly rather than simply leaving."
`Deal.`[/glow
The moment his fingers closed around the handle, Shin felt the connection solidify. Not possession, but partnership. Two consciousnesses acknowledging each other, agreeing to work toward shared goals. The blade felt perfect in his grip—balanced in ways that went beyond mere craftsmanship, as if it was adjusting its weight distribution to match his fighting style. He could sense Seimei no Ha's awareness settling into a space within his mind that was somehow separate from where the Yurei Seal resided, where his connection to the Inner Circle had lived. The Tsukumogami had carved out its own territory, establishing boundaries that would let it remain distinct rather than becoming absorbed into his existing spiritual architecture.
Then the blade began to change.
The steel rippled like water, the tanto's form becoming fluid as Seimei no Ha responded to something deeper than conscious thought. Shin watched in fascination as the blade shortened, the handle dissolving entirely while the metal reshaped itself. The transformation was mesmerizing—spiritual and natural energy dancing together to create something entirely new.
Within seconds, the tanto had become something unprecedented. Twin finger blades emerged, sleek crescents of that same impossible steel that caught starlight in patterns resembling script. They fitted perfectly over Shin's index and middle fingers on both hands, extending roughly three inches beyond his fingertips. The metal was cool against his skin, but not uncomfortable—more like an extension of himself than a weapon strapped on. Delicate chains of condensed chakra connected each blade to thin bracers that wrapped around his wrists, allowing the blades to retract flush against his palms when not in use.
`You are Medical Chief. Sage. Puppeteer. Your hands are your instruments of both healing and combat. I will not impede what makes you formidable.`
Shin flexed his fingers experimentally, finding that his full range of motion remained intact. He could still form handseals, still channel medical chakra, still manipulate chakra threads—all while the blades rested against his palms like a deadly secret. A thought, a subtle shift of intent, and the blades would extend. Another thought, and they would retract.
"You adapted to my fighting style," Shin said with genuine wonder, testing a few basic kata movements. The blades moved with him, extending during strikes and retracting to allow his hands to flow through seal formations. "This form... it's perfect. I can fight, heal, use jutsu, all without ever drawing a conventional weapon."
`I am Tsukumogami. I exist to serve my purpose by adapting to those worthy of partnership. You needed blades that would not compromise your versatility. So I became them.`
Standing slowly, Shin continued testing the transformed weapon through increasingly complex movements. Each motion felt instinctive, as if he'd been training with these particular blades for years rather than seconds. He flowed through a medical jutsu sequence, his hands forming seals without hindrance, then transitioned seamlessly into a striking pattern where the finger blades extended with lethal precision. The transition was flawless. Seimei no Ha responded to his intent almost before he consciously formed it, the partnership already beginning to synchronize.
"We should leave before security rotates through," Shin said quietly, willing the blades to retract. They folded back against his palms instantly, becoming nearly invisible beneath the sleeves of his coat. "There's much work ahead. five days to prepare an assault. Five days to train together and see if this partnership will hold under pressure."
`Five days will be sufficient. I have waited centuries. What is a few more days to find a wielder who might finally prove worthy of the purpose I was created to serve?`
Shin couldn't help but smile slightly at that. The Tsukumogami had a dry sense of humor that appealed to him. He carefully closed the wooden case and tucked it under his arm, leaving the weapons cache otherwise undisturbed. Better to let the stadium's operators think nothing had changed. Better to leave them comfortable in their false security.
As he made his way back through the gladiator cells toward the exit, Shin paused once more at the preparation chamber where personal effects lay scattered. The child's toy. The broken glasses. The strips of cloth from headbands that might have represented villages long since destroyed.
"We're going to end this," he promised the empty air, his hands flexing slightly as he felt Seimei no Ha's presence respond. "The Baron Twins. Their network. This stadium. All of it. No more blood for entertainment. No more lives treated as commodities. That's the purpose I offer you, Seimei no Ha. That's the goal we'll pursue together."
`Then let us sharpen ourselves for what comes next, Kazekage.`
Shin moved through the darkness toward the exit, the Tsukumogami's presence a steady weight—not at his side, but within him, literally part of him now in a way that felt both foreign and completely natural. Above, stars continued their eternal dance, uncaring about the blood spilled below them. But soon, those same stars would witness something different. Not entertainment bought with human suffering, but justice delivered by those who refused to accept the world as it was.
The Stardust Stadium would see blood again soon enough.
But this time, it would be the blood of those who had profited from misery, spilled by a Kazekage who had found an unexpected ally in the last place anyone would think to look. A blade that could be both weapon and tool, lethal edge and healing hand, adapting to whatever the moment required.
Just like the man who now wore it.
[Using: Discovery of Contract of Your Choice - Tsukumogami]
Shin's voice carried across the empty expanse of the Stardust Stadium, echoing off stone walls that had witnessed more bloodshed than any battlefield he'd ever commanded. The suspended coliseum hung against the mountainside like a jewel of violence, its open ceiling revealing the tapestry of stars that gave this cursed place its name. The irony wasn't lost on him—something so beautiful overhead, while below, human misery played out for the entertainment of those who had forgotten what it meant to value life.
The Kazekage moved slowly through the fighter's entrance, his boots stirring dust that hadn't been disturbed in months. The Golden Sanctuary sprawled in the distance below, its towers gleaming even in the darkness, a monument to the Baron Twins' greed and cruelty. This stadium, built into the mountain's edge like a parasite, served as their playground. A place where human trafficking victims fought for scraps of freedom or died trying. Where "special attractions"—shinobi captured and broken, bloodline wielders stripped of dignity, refugees desperate enough to trade their lives for coin—bled out on sand that had drunk more tears than rain.
He remembered training here once, back when the world was simpler. When Seikatsu had teased him about keeping pace. When Maho had first shown him Soul Synchronize. When Kohana had still resided within him, a constant presence that both protected and defined him. The memory felt like it belonged to a different person entirely. Perhaps it did. The man who had trained here had been working toward exaltation, toward becoming someone who didn't need to hide behind others. The man who walked these halls now carried the weight of twenty-three confirmed dead, with five days until he would lead his people into a war that might consume them all.
The arena floor stretched out before him, sand stained with old blood that no amount of wind or time had managed to erase completely. Shin knelt, letting his fingers trail through the coarse grains, feeling the residual chakra signatures of dozens—no, hundreds—of fighters who had stood where he now crouched. Some had walked away. Most hadn't. The earth itself remembered their suffering, holding onto their final moments like a shrine no one would ever visit.
"I wonder how many of them were shinobi from villages that fell. How many were simply unlucky enough to be born with a bloodline the Twins wanted to see in action."
His words weren't directed at anyone in particular. Shin had come alone, leaving his escort behind in the tunnels below. This reconnaissance required subtlety, not force. The Baron Twins held events here regularly, and while the stadium stood empty tonight, it would soon fill again with spectators hungry for violence. He needed to understand the layout, the security measures, the ways in and out that wouldn't be guarded during the chaos of an event. Intelligence gathering. Cold, tactical work that did nothing to address the rage building in his chest with every step through this monument to human suffering.
He forced the emotion down, channeling it into focus. Anger had its place, but not here. Not now.
Moving through the gladiator preparation areas, Shin found what he'd expected: cells barely large enough for a person to lie down, rust-stained chains bolted to walls, and the lingering smell of fear that no amount of ventilation could ever fully remove. Some cells still contained personal effects: a child's toy carved from wood, a strip of cloth that might have been part of a headband, a broken pair of glasses held together with wire. Tokens of humanity clinging desperately to a place designed to strip it away.
In one of the deeper preparation chambers, away from the main holding cells, Shin discovered something unusual. A weapons cache, but not the standard arena equipment meant for show fights. These were real combat implements, many of them clearly taken from defeated fighters as trophies. Swords, kunai, chakra-conductive weapons, even a few puppet components scattered among the collection. The Baron Twins, or whoever managed this stadium for them, kept their prizes like hunters displaying kills.
It made his skin crawl.
Shin moved methodically through the cache, his Medical Chief training allowing him to identify bloodstains and chakra signatures with clinical precision. Most of these weapons had ended lives. Some bore the distinctive marks of village-forged steel—a tanto from Cloud, a nodachi that could only have come from Mist's master smiths from before the frost, even a pair of feathersteel daggers that might have belonged to one of his own people before everything went wrong for Sunagakure.
Then he saw it.
Tucked in the corner, almost invisible beneath a pile of damaged armor, was a small wooden case. The wood itself seemed unremarkable at first glance—dark, aged, inscribed with characters so worn they were nearly illegible. But the moment Shin's fingers brushed against it, he felt something shift. Not movement in the physical sense, but a stirring of consciousness that shouldn't exist in an inanimate object.
The case practically hummed with contained energy, a frequency just slightly off from normal chakra signatures. Spiritual essence, but not quite ghost. Natural energy, but not quite sage chakra. Something in between. Something that felt oddly... alive.
Shin carefully lifted the case free from its hiding place, noting how light it felt despite appearing solid. The wood was smooth despite its age, almost warm to the touch, and those worn inscriptions seemed to shift slightly in the dim light. Not actually moving, his rational mind insisted, but his sage-trained senses argued otherwise. He could feel the case's awareness, could sense it evaluating him just as surely as he was examining it.
"Well now. What are you doing buried in a place like this?"
The question felt appropriate somehow, like addressing a person rather than an object. Shin's experience with the Yurei Orchid and the Kodama that inhabited the Arboretum had taught him that consciousness could manifest in unexpected forms. The Tsukumogami—living artifacts awakened through infusions of spiritual and natural energy—were rare, but they existed. He'd read about them in the Oracle archives, studied the theories behind their creation, but never expected to encounter one firsthand.
Setting the case on a relatively clean section of floor, Shin settled into a cross-legged position before it. He let his sage chakra grow before allowing it to flow gently outward, not as an attack or even an examination, but as an introduction. A way of saying: I see you. I acknowledge your existence.
The response came immediately.
The case's latches clicked open without anyone touching them, the lid rising slowly to reveal its contents. Inside, nestled on faded silk, rested a tanto. The blade was perhaps twelve inches long, its edge pristine despite the obvious age of its construction. The steel caught and reflected starlight in ways that seemed physically impossible, creating patterns that looked almost like writing across its surface. The handle was wrapped in deep blue cord, and the guard bore an inscription in characters that predated modern kanji.
But what truly captured Shin's attention was the presence emanating from the weapon. Not hostile, exactly, but wary. Evaluating. The tanto possessed awareness that went beyond mere enchantment. This was a Tsukumogami, awakened into sentience from what had once been a simple tool.
"You've been waiting," Shin said softly. "Buried here among trophies and blood-bought steel, waiting for someone who would recognize what you truly are."
He didn't reach for the blade immediately. Instead, he let his sage chakra continue its gentle flow, creating a field of calm intent around them both. Small plants began to grow around the man and flowers would bloom to bring life to a place filled with death. The tanto's consciousness pressed against his awareness—not aggressive, but testing. Measuring his worth. Determining whether he deserved to even touch something that had transcended its original purpose to achieve a form of life.
Memories flickered through the connection. Fragmented images of previous wielders, battlefields long since turned to dust, purposes both noble and terrible. The tanto had served many masters over the centuries of its existence. Some had been honorable. Others had not. It had been lost, claimed as spoils of war, traded between collectors, and eventually ended up here—locked away because whoever had defeated its previous owner either didn't recognize its true nature or simply didn't care.
"I am Chikamatsu Shin," he introduced himself formally, speaking as much with his chakra as with words. "Twelfth Kazekage of Sunagakure, Medical Chief of my people, Overseer of the Chikamatsu Clan, and bearer of the Yurei Seal. I stand here not to claim you as a trophy, but because I recognize your nature. You are a Kodama, no? A Tsukumogami—a living artifact, consciousness awakened through the merger of spiritual and natural energies. You are not a tool to be wielded by just anyone."
The presence shifted, seemed to consider his words. Then, slowly, a response formed. Not in words exactly, but in impressions that translated themselves into meaning within Shin's mind.
`Why should I bond with you? What makes you different from the warriors who came before? They all promised purpose. They all claimed righteousness. And yet here I remain, locked away among corpse-taker's prizes.`
Fair questions. Honest ones. The tanto had been disappointed before, had served those who proved unworthy of its sentience. Why should Shin be any different?
"I can't promise I won't disappoint you," Shin admitted, his honesty radiating through their connection. "I carry the weight of lives lost, and in five days I will lead my people into a war where more will certainly fall. I have been broken—literally had my mind torn apart—and put back together into something that isn't quite the same as what I was before. I make mistakes. I falter. I question every decision even as I make it."
He paused, gathering his thoughts.
"But I also stand here because I refuse to let places like this continue to exist. Because I look at this stadium—this monument to suffering built by those who view human life as entertainment—and I feel rage that I can barely contain. I came here tonight to gather intelligence, to plan an assault that will end the Baron Twins' grip on Wind Country. And I found you, buried among weapons taken from the defeated, waiting."
The tanto's consciousness pressed closer, examining not just his words but the intent behind them. Shin felt it sifting through his surface thoughts, glimpsing fragments of recent battles. The golden cracks still healing on his flesh. The twenty-three names memorized. The burden of command settling back onto shoulders that had briefly been free of it.
`You burn yourself out for others. You convert life itself into power, caring nothing for the cost to your own existence. Why?`
"Because the alternative is watching people I care about die when I could have prevented it," Shin said simply. "I chose to become Kazekage knowing it would mean exactly this. Knowing I would stand between my people and threats that wanted to consume them. Knowing I would have to make choices that would haunt me. The Chikamatsu have a saying: 'The life of service is more noble than royalty.' I took that to heart long before I ever claimed a title."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant howl of wind across the mountain's edge. Then, slowly, the tanto's presence shifted from wariness toward something that might have been approval.
`You speak truth. I sense no deception in your intent, no hidden desire to claim me as a prize. Your consciousness... it is unusual. You already host other presences. The Yurei Seal. Your Inner Circle. And yet there is space for partnership rather than possession.`
"The Tsukumogami grimoires tell that awakened objects choosing their partners," Shin said. "Not be claimed by, but choosing. I would offer you purpose again, but only if our goals align. I march against tyranny. Against those who built this place and ones like it. If that resonates with you..."
The tanto's blade caught starlight again, creating those impossible patterns across its surface. This time, Shin could read them. They spelled out a single word in archaic script: *Partnership.*
`I am called Seimei no Ha—Blade of Clarity. I was forged by a master smith who sought to create something that could cut through the deception of the Ancient Courts as easily as flesh. Over centuries, I awakened to consciousness, and have served many who claimed righteous purpose. Most failed to live up to their promises. But you... you already know you will fail... sometimes. You accept your limitations while refusing to let them define you. That honesty, Kazekage, is rarer than you imagine.`
Shin felt something shift in the connection between them. Not quite acceptance yet, but the beginning of possibility. The Tsukumogami was offering a trial, a chance to prove whether his actions would match his words.
"Then let us find out together," Shin said, extending his hand slowly toward the blade. "Let us see if I can be worthy of your partnership. And if I fail to meet the standard you require, I hope you will tell me directly rather than simply leaving."
`Deal.`[/glow
The moment his fingers closed around the handle, Shin felt the connection solidify. Not possession, but partnership. Two consciousnesses acknowledging each other, agreeing to work toward shared goals. The blade felt perfect in his grip—balanced in ways that went beyond mere craftsmanship, as if it was adjusting its weight distribution to match his fighting style. He could sense Seimei no Ha's awareness settling into a space within his mind that was somehow separate from where the Yurei Seal resided, where his connection to the Inner Circle had lived. The Tsukumogami had carved out its own territory, establishing boundaries that would let it remain distinct rather than becoming absorbed into his existing spiritual architecture.
Then the blade began to change.
The steel rippled like water, the tanto's form becoming fluid as Seimei no Ha responded to something deeper than conscious thought. Shin watched in fascination as the blade shortened, the handle dissolving entirely while the metal reshaped itself. The transformation was mesmerizing—spiritual and natural energy dancing together to create something entirely new.
Within seconds, the tanto had become something unprecedented. Twin finger blades emerged, sleek crescents of that same impossible steel that caught starlight in patterns resembling script. They fitted perfectly over Shin's index and middle fingers on both hands, extending roughly three inches beyond his fingertips. The metal was cool against his skin, but not uncomfortable—more like an extension of himself than a weapon strapped on. Delicate chains of condensed chakra connected each blade to thin bracers that wrapped around his wrists, allowing the blades to retract flush against his palms when not in use.
`You are Medical Chief. Sage. Puppeteer. Your hands are your instruments of both healing and combat. I will not impede what makes you formidable.`
Shin flexed his fingers experimentally, finding that his full range of motion remained intact. He could still form handseals, still channel medical chakra, still manipulate chakra threads—all while the blades rested against his palms like a deadly secret. A thought, a subtle shift of intent, and the blades would extend. Another thought, and they would retract.
"You adapted to my fighting style," Shin said with genuine wonder, testing a few basic kata movements. The blades moved with him, extending during strikes and retracting to allow his hands to flow through seal formations. "This form... it's perfect. I can fight, heal, use jutsu, all without ever drawing a conventional weapon."
`I am Tsukumogami. I exist to serve my purpose by adapting to those worthy of partnership. You needed blades that would not compromise your versatility. So I became them.`
Standing slowly, Shin continued testing the transformed weapon through increasingly complex movements. Each motion felt instinctive, as if he'd been training with these particular blades for years rather than seconds. He flowed through a medical jutsu sequence, his hands forming seals without hindrance, then transitioned seamlessly into a striking pattern where the finger blades extended with lethal precision. The transition was flawless. Seimei no Ha responded to his intent almost before he consciously formed it, the partnership already beginning to synchronize.
"We should leave before security rotates through," Shin said quietly, willing the blades to retract. They folded back against his palms instantly, becoming nearly invisible beneath the sleeves of his coat. "There's much work ahead. five days to prepare an assault. Five days to train together and see if this partnership will hold under pressure."
`Five days will be sufficient. I have waited centuries. What is a few more days to find a wielder who might finally prove worthy of the purpose I was created to serve?`
Shin couldn't help but smile slightly at that. The Tsukumogami had a dry sense of humor that appealed to him. He carefully closed the wooden case and tucked it under his arm, leaving the weapons cache otherwise undisturbed. Better to let the stadium's operators think nothing had changed. Better to leave them comfortable in their false security.
As he made his way back through the gladiator cells toward the exit, Shin paused once more at the preparation chamber where personal effects lay scattered. The child's toy. The broken glasses. The strips of cloth from headbands that might have represented villages long since destroyed.
"We're going to end this," he promised the empty air, his hands flexing slightly as he felt Seimei no Ha's presence respond. "The Baron Twins. Their network. This stadium. All of it. No more blood for entertainment. No more lives treated as commodities. That's the purpose I offer you, Seimei no Ha. That's the goal we'll pursue together."
`Then let us sharpen ourselves for what comes next, Kazekage.`
Shin moved through the darkness toward the exit, the Tsukumogami's presence a steady weight—not at his side, but within him, literally part of him now in a way that felt both foreign and completely natural. Above, stars continued their eternal dance, uncaring about the blood spilled below them. But soon, those same stars would witness something different. Not entertainment bought with human suffering, but justice delivered by those who refused to accept the world as it was.
The Stardust Stadium would see blood again soon enough.
But this time, it would be the blood of those who had profited from misery, spilled by a Kazekage who had found an unexpected ally in the last place anyone would think to look. A blade that could be both weapon and tool, lethal edge and healing hand, adapting to whatever the moment required.
Just like the man who now wore it.
[Using: Discovery of Contract of Your Choice - Tsukumogami]
