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"M-my Lord," the smith said with a stiff bow, "it is good to see you."

Gengyo rose to meet him. "You’ve done me well with this sword. If not for it in my hand, then I might have been a dead man by now."

"I’m... I’m very glad to hear it... Has there been any damage to it?" Takeshi asked, struggling to keep the topic steered firmly towards his strengths.

Gengyo drew the blade from his hip and set it down on the table for Takeshi to examine. The blood and the dirt had long since been washed away. It drew the attention of the rest of their comrades.

"So that’s the blade you’ve been swinging around, is it?" Morohira asked, picking it up by the handle and trying a few practise swings without asking anyone’s permission. "No... I don’t like it. You won’t be getting any power behind that," he decided, setting it back down again with distaste.

"You truly fought with this, Miura-dono?" Togashi asked, looking upon the blade with a curiosity. "It appears much too thin to parry, but it is certainly long. You could cut down your opponent before he has a chance to swing at you."

"Made for a one-handed man," Gengyo told him with a smile, waving his stump to ill.u.s.trate his point. "It served me rather splendidly. Was I not back to my old self?" He asked with a pointed look towards Akiko.

"It seemed that way, towards the end," she said honestly, "but you had us all worried for a while there. He disappeared into a mass of enemy men, completely encircled. He had to fight his way out, he did. We were sure he was gone. But then ten minutes later, he crawls out from a pile of bodies and leads a charge at Kenshin, winning us the battle."

"That sounds like the boss," Sasaki said cheerfully, "I wish I could have been there to see it. In the moment, your heart is messy when you’re in battles like that, but then afterwards, you’re so proud. You get that badge of honour, for overcoming the impossible. Every battle with the boss has been like that. It makes you feel invincible."

"I’d beware of that feeling if I were you, Sasaki," Rin told him. "My Nii-san seems to think he’s invincible, with all the efforts he puts into finding impossible places to fight his way out from. If you plan to get a wife, I’m sure you’d be a good man, and sensible, and try and temper that wild side of you, just has my brother has completely failed to do."

"It’s not even battle, but it seems I’ve been stabbed again," Gengyo said dryly, clutching for his heart. "Would anyone else like to test my blade? You might find it suits you better."

"I’ll give it a swing," Jikouji said, "but I can’t see myself changing. Too old and too set in my ways." He went to pick it up and the surprise was obvious on his face when he felt its weight, "by the gods, it’s light, isn’t it?" He tried a stance, instinctually standing like a fencer, realizing that the blade was meant for thrusting rather than slashing. He looked like a natural with it as he jabbed at the air. Their men had to step back to avoid being caught by it.

"It has its advantages," Jikouji said at last, concluding its testing, "the reach would be troublesome to deal with, if it’s a katana that you’re using. But I suppose with enough training, you could work around that. Step in, close that distance, and the katana has the advantage once again."

"Ah, so you were testing it only to find a way to defeat me, is that right?" Gengyo asked, taking the sword back off him.

"Something like that," Jikouji said with a sly grin.

"If I had two hands, I’d put my faith in the katana as well," Gengyo admitted, "but this here is more than an adequate replacement. What do you say, Takeshi, have I treated it well, or have I been too rough with it?"

Takeshi had to examine the blade up close before he offered his verdict. Even then, he was said without the slightest shred of confidence. A genius, for true, but one without the gift for socialising. "There is work to be done on it... Ah, but that isn’t to say... I mean, that isn’t... to say my Lord has treated it poorly... It’s only a result of battle... to keep it strong and flexible... I had better see to it."

He was about to go there and then, but with a hand on his shoulder, Gengyo brought him back. "Woah there, Takeshi, you had not need hurry towards work. I’ve heard you’ve been busy making cannons for Matsudaira. You need a drink as much as the rest of us; come, relax, take the time off until the next battle comes knocking."

"Aye, drink," Morohira said firmly, planting a bowl of sake in the smith’s hands. The loud warrior had already helped himself to plenty of it and had proceeded to his third bowl without anyone having noticed.

With all eyes pinned on him expectantly, Takeshi didn’t know quite what to do. He shivered as though he was audienced by an alien species. He cautiously took a sip to see whether that would appease them. It did. Everyone broke out in grins when he finally did.

"Everyone, get some sake in your hands, a toast for the battles to come!" Morohira pressed.

"I’ll settle on water," Akiko said modestly, patting her belly as ill.u.s.tration.

"I’ll take the sake then," Rokkaku lept in.

With bowls raised in the air, they toasted. "To future victories!" Gengyo said.

"To future victories!" They repeated.