The Skyforge: the highest point in Kumogakure, known for producing and selling world-class weapons and armor… at a world-class price. On the path to the Skyforge itself stood many shops. These shops were run by smiths who either were too inexperienced or too mediocre to earn a coveted spot at the summit and by secondhand dealers. It was to one of those secondhand shops that Kameko was bound on that sunny afternoon.

Although Kameko’s family was a wealthy one after her father’s wise business decisions, she herself was not. The young woman had worked for her father for a few years after graduating from the Academy, and her savings from that work were not nearly enough to purchase one of the finely crafted blades that could be had from the Skyforge itself; she would know from those atypical years of working in business, as the shinobi career and the paraphernalia that went along with it was a driving force in the economy of every village. Her father had offered to equip her as necessary when she decided to go back to shinobi life, but she had declined, determined to make her own way. Kameko had held off on the purchase for as long as possible, trying to have just a little bit bigger budget to spend, but she had been assigned to a squad, the Raikage’s squad at that, and could not afford to handicap herself by being a Kenjutsu specialist without a sword. Practice swords wouldn’t cut it outside of the Academy.

The young woman wore her hitai-ate as a headband and was dressed practically in movement-friendly clothes: an attractively fitted black jacket and charcoal pants. With the sunny day, the walk up the mountain path was a pleasant one, and she soon arrived at her destination. Slipping into the second-hand shop she was greeted by the keeper, a middle-aged, dark haired man. “What can I do for you, Miss? Are you here to shop or sell?”

“Shop,” she replied. “I’m looking for a katana. It doesn’t need to be anything fancy.” Even at a shop like this, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to afford the high-class ones.

“Hm…. Well Missy, with those Chuunin exams a bit back, my normal stock was pretty well knocked out. I have this one that would fit the bill. Its owner sold it here after getting back from those exams. Said he wouldn’t need it no more.” The owner led her over to a corner of the shop and proffered her a sheathed katana.

Kameko accepted the sword, noting that it seemed light and well-balanced in her hand. Optimistically she drew the blade and… “What! What happened to this katana?” The dismay was clear on her face. The sword she held had clearly been made by an experienced smith and should have been a fine blade, however the iron was mottled with rust.

“Weeeell, see, I just sell swords. As Is. It’s still a good sword. Just not as pretty as it once was. It’s the only basic type one I’ve got in stock. The others will cost you over 1000 ryo. This one here is just 450 ryo, and don’t you try no haggling. I don’t deal that way. The price I say is the price you get.”

Kameko knew that he didn’t haggle, and she also knew that he was always straight up with his sales, didn’t try to scam his clients. That was why she came to this store in particular. Much less cheery than before, she replied, “Can I have a few moments to think about it?”

“Take as long as you need, Miss. If you’d like to try it out, there’s a little dummy set up in the back.” He pointed her to the back corner of the store and went back behind his counter.

Kameko found the corner, and as he had mentioned, there was a little ring marked out a decent way away from other merchandise with a practice dummy inside its borders. Unsheathing the sword, she began testing out how it felt in her hands and trying a few practice swings.

Despite its appearance, the katana felt great in her hands. It truly had been well-crafted before it had fallen into disrepair. Holding the sword up, she inspected the rust on it. She wouldn’t be able to get the rust off; if it could be just cleaned up then the owner certainly would have done it himself and sold it for a higher price. Well, it was all that she could afford and.. ‘Y’know, I’m a little rusty myself. Maybe we’re meant to be together.’ It was a Ryuzoji belief that there was a certain ‘oneness’ that developed with the sword that one used. She followed her gut, and she just had a good feeling about this one, despite its appearance.

Returning it to its sheath, she made her way over to the counter. “What d’ya think, Miss?”

“I think it’s a little rusty, just like me,“ she smiled at the owner. “ I’ll take it!” She handed over the aforementioned ryo, and the owner handed her a receipt and bill of ownership. Thanking him, she left the shop and went to go get accustomed to her new blade.