Dimensional Love (Naruto Series Story)

Chapter 19: Risky Business

A/N: I know, nearly a year since I last posted for this! D'x How did time get a way from me on this? I also blame extreme writer's block for this story. I'm not entirely pleased by this one. Could be me, but I feel like I've grown extremely rusty writing for this particular story. Nearly a year without progress would do that to anyone I guess >.> Sorry, hope it's alright! Hope there aren't too many spelling or grammar errors in this one. It's late and I'm tired :P

The usual reminder of language if there is any in this one :P

One last thing since it's been so long. Remember that this is an AU sort of Naruto for what the post-war future is like. I know with all of the crazy things that have gone on in the manga to date, that there have been certain killed off characters >.> (Excuse me while I cry! D'x) But...well, this is just a reminder that I started this off before any of those events we now know to have happened, happened. In case any of you forgot. It has been awhile after all lol. ^^'''

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Flashes of green continued to remain in the peripheral field of his vision as he traveled, keeping his steady pace. A village was just up ahead—just as he had predicted he’d arrive at only three days previously.

It, unfortunately, was infested by shinobi as it was a village booming in trade. Shinobi passing by could easily rest up and re-supply at this neutral trading village. It wouldn’t be a problem for him though, as he could easily cast a genjutsu to get by. Had he not been desperate for supplies and a weapon smith to tend to his blade, then he would have passed this village by for a less ‘crowded’ one.

Entering the weapon smith first, hood over head to conceal his face, he dropped a small pouch on the table. The plentiful sound of coins caught the attention of the old smith. He raised a careful brow as he set down the weapon he had been engraving on.

“Yeah, what you need?” He gruffly asked.

In one graceful motion, the hooded man took the sheathed blade from behind him, and set it on the table next to his money filled pouch. “This blade,” He said, “sharpen it and give it a thorough cleaning while you’re at it.”

The smithy took one look at the blade and his eyes widened curiously. “Heh, this could take a while. What have you been using this for—to chop down the forest? Bah! And look at this horrible knick here! I swear, you shinobi should take better care of your weapons, or you’ll find yourselves in early graves!” The old man had continued to scold.

“Who says I’m a shinobi?” Came the calm, yet somewhat threatened reply.

The old smithy turned away to get a better look at the blade in the light of the fires. “That’s all I ever see come through here.” He replied, giving a disappointed ‘tutting’ sound. “My, you sure are lucky this thing hasn’t been cut clean in two yet.”

“How long will it take to repair and sharpen?” The old man’s continued reprimands were ignored, and the old man seemed a bit put out by that.

The smith sighed, “Well, you’re looking at good three and a half day’s work here, and that’s if no other customers come in with even more poorly taken care of weapons.” The sound of another coin filled pouch hit the table next to the other, and the smithy turned back to face the lone man. “But I guess I could put any others on the waiting list while I tend to your blade. Anything else you need looking after?”

“No. Though I’d like to have a temporary replacement until I get it back.”

“Sure, sure,” Nodded the more willing weapon smith, now that he was receiving a nice sum for his troubles. He gestured towards the rack of katanas. “Take which ever you like. But I want it back—and in far better condition than the one you brought for me to tend to. You hear?”