The forge roared like a dragon, its belly spitting sparks and smoke. Keiji stood outside, his palms sweating despite the chill of dawn. For two days and nights, Uchiha Jirō had worked without pause, hammering, folding, quenching, and weaving chakra ores into steel. Even from here, Keiji could feel the thrum of power resonating from within the smithy, each strike echoing through the air like a heartbeat of destiny.
At last, the doors swung open. Jirō emerged, soot covering every inch of his body. His shoulders sagged with exhaustion, yet his eyes shone with triumph.
"Young master," he rasped, voice hoarse but proud, "your weapon… is complete."
---
The Birth of the Urumi
He held up the swords.
Unlike any katana Keiji had ever seen, these were long, flexible ribbons of steel attached to hilts wrapped in black leather. Each blade was three fingers wide, razor-thin, gleaming with a faint bluish sheen from the Moon-Silver Alloy. Fine lines of darker minerals—Kaji Ash Stone and Kaminari Steel Dust—ran along their length like veins of fire and lightning.
But what stunned Keiji most was the feel.
Even from a distance, the Urumi hummed faintly, resonating with chakra. They did not hang limp like cloth, nor stiff like ordinary blades, but something in between—alive, waiting to be guided.
Jirō set them down reverently. "Two ribbons, each bound to a single hilt. The ores you selected… they work in harmony. Flexible, yet strong. Channel your chakra, and the blades will answer."
Keiji stepped forward, hands trembling as he picked up the hilt. The ribbons slid and coiled across the ground like serpents. Pride surged within him, followed quickly by fear.
This was no ordinary weapon. Mishandled, it could tear him apart.
Unohana appeared beside him, serene yet commanding. "Well, Keiji? Show us."
---
First Attempt: The Near Disaster
Keiji swallowed hard, tightened his grip, and stepped into the practice grounds. Gengar floated nearby, its eyes glowing with curiosity.
He inhaled deeply, channeling chakra into the ribbons, then swung.
The Urumi came alive.
The two blades lashed outward, whistling like vipers. One struck a training dummy, slicing clean through its torso. The other coiled unpredictably, whirling back toward Keiji's own head.
His heart lurched. He ducked just in time as the blade hissed past, carving a deep gash into the post behind him.
"Too wild," Unohana said sharply. "Control the flow, Keiji. The Urumi is not wielded with brute force—it dances with you."
He grit his teeth, steadying his breath. Again, he infused chakra, this time focusing on stiffening the ribbons mid-swing. The arcs were cleaner now, more precise, but still dangerous. One blade snapped dangerously close to his leg.
Gengar flickered, its ghostly aura tugging the ribbon away before it could cut him.
Keiji exhaled shakily. Every mistake risks my own blood.
But as he gazed at the shredded dummies, cut from impossible angles, determination flared within him. This weapon will be mine to master.
---
Discovering Potential
Hours bled into each other. His arms blistered, his body bruised, yet progress came.
Keiji learned to flow chakra like water along the ribbons, stiffening them into blades mid-strike, then loosening them into serpentine coils. He discovered three movements that formed the core of his style:
1. The Coil Strike – Wrapping the blade around an enemy's guard before snapping it taut to cut.
2. The Twin Fang – Sending both ribbons in diverging arcs to strike from opposite sides.
3. The Whip Wall – Spinning the Urumi in wide circles, forming a barrier of slashing steel.
Then came chakra infusion.
When he poured fire chakra into the Urumi, the ribbons blazed like molten serpents, scorching the ground black wherever they struck. With lightning chakra, they crackled, vibrating at deadly frequencies that carved wooden posts into dust.
Unohana's serene eyes glinted with something rare—approval. "Yes. This is no longer a mere experiment. This is a weapon worthy of legends."
Her tone sharpened. "But remember, Keiji—this blade is as eager to taste your blood as your enemy's."
---
The Price of Mastery
By evening, Keiji collapsed onto his knees, drenched in sweat. The training ground lay in ruins—posts splintered, earth scarred, the air thick with smoke and ozone.
His arms shook violently, his chakra nearly depleted. A deep graze ran along his forearm, his sleeve shredded. Another inch, and he would have lost the arm entirely.
Unohana knelt beside him, her palms glowing with green light. "You'll scar yourself before you master it."
Keiji chuckled weakly, forcing a smile. "If that's the price… I'll pay it."
Gengar hovered protectively, its grin softer than usual. More than once, it had intervened, redirecting stray ribbons with ghostly nudges. Without it, Keiji might already have been bleeding out.
---
Izuna's Arrival
The night was deep when another presence entered. Izuna Uchiha—Keiji's uncle, eyes sharp with curiosity.
He observed silently as Keiji struggled to coil the ribbons back into their sheath. Finally, he spoke, a smirk curling his lips.
"So this is the weapon I heard whispers of. Jirō spoke of madness in steel, and I see now he wasn't exaggerating."
Keiji, weary but proud, lifted his head. "The Urumi. A sword that whips like a serpent."
Izuna's eyes gleamed with fascination. "Unpredictable… dangerous… and perfect. Tell me, nephew—can it be taught?"
Keiji blinked. "Taught?"
Izuna nodded. "I've mastered the blade since childhood. But this… this is different. Faster, freer. I want to learn it."
Keiji hesitated. The Urumi was already perilous in his own hands. Teaching another could mean disaster. But Izuna was no ordinary shinobi. With lightning in his blood and instinct in his veins, perhaps he was the ideal student.
Slowly, Keiji nodded. "It can be learned. But it's not strength you need—it's rhythm. Think of it like dancing with death. One misstep, and you die."
Izuna's smirk widened. "Then it's exactly my kind of art."
---
Passing the First Lessons
Despite his exhaustion, Keiji picked up the Urumi again. He demonstrated carefully: stiffening one ribbon with chakra, guiding it in a controlled arc, then loosening it to wrap a post.
"The key is transition," Keiji explained. "Rigid to fluid. Strike to coil. Every moment, you shift. And always… always pull it back before it cuts you."
Izuna's gaze sharpened as he watched. "So the true blade isn't the steel. It's the flow."
Keiji nodded. "Exactly. Infuse lightning, and the vibration makes it unstoppable. But the cost is chakra exhaustion."
Izuna's smirk returned. "Then I'll master it before exhaustion matters."
---
The Weight of Legacy
Later, as the embers of practice dimmed, Izuna sat beside him, quieter than usual.
"Keiji… you've given birth to something dangerous. A style that could change how our clan fights. With this, even Tobirama's Kenjutsu will be overshadowed."
Keiji met his gaze steadily. "Then promise me, Uncle—don't wield it recklessly. This blade doesn't forgive mistakes."
Izuna laughed softly, though respect flickered in his eyes. "Neither do the Senju. But I promise—I'll wield it as carefully as fire in the dark."
---
Keiji's Resolve
Later, Keiji lay back beneath the stars, his body aching, his spirit blazing. The Urumi lay coiled beside him like a serpent at rest.
It's no longer a dream. This is my blade. My path. With it, I can change history. With it, the Uchiha can fight in ways no one expects.
Gengar floated above, its eerie grin gleaming faintly in the moonlight, as though it too sensed the tide of destiny shifting.
But Keiji knew the truth. The Urumi was not yet mastered. It was hungry. Waiting. Testing him.
And the Youth Ninja Competition loomed near—the stage where this blade would either crown him with glory… or consume him in blood.
---
End of the Chapter
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