After defeating Uchiha Mikoto, Amamiya Maki took the Sword of the Thunder God and headed alone to the Senju Clan Compound.
The old house was dim inside. Outside the window, the camphor tree's lush branches broke the afternoon sunlight into tiny flecks scattered across the clean tatami mats.
Mito Uzumaki leaned against her sickbed, her face pale and bloodless.
When she caught sight of the longsword in Maki's hand, she paused.
She slowly raised her hand, brushing her fingertips over the remnants of the sealing inscriptions on the blade. At last, they settled on the technique markings Tobirama had left behind, lingering there for a long time.
"When he forged this sword with his own hands, I stood beside him and watched."
"As he carved the first layer of seals, he said that anyone who wished to inherit this weapon first had to truly understand him."
"I teased him then, saying that all those layers of seals would only cause needless trouble for future generations."
"He stubbornly insisted that only someone who could master the Flying Thunder God Technique could understand him."
"In the end, this sword nearly became nothing more than scrap iron."
"It wasn't entirely wasted," Maki said softly.
"Lord Tobirama's seals have long since faded, but the blade has survived intact."
"The seals faded on their own?"
Mito repeated those words quietly, a trace of melancholy passing through her eyes.
"Tobirama probably never imagined that no one would meet his carefully chosen conditions for decades."
"But now the blade is losing lightning release chakra at a serious rate. It must be tempered again."
She raised her eyes to Maki.
"Come here. I'll teach you how to temper it."
Mito had Maki lay the Sword of the Thunder God beside the bed, then raised her hands and slowly