Stone Cold | Tanjirou Kamado (old version)

16. Pay back your debt

The hammer bangs against the burning metal, and it deformed and took the way you wanted it to, the ashes got in your eyes and in between your fingers until it ended up under the nails. The warmth of the fire was ruthless but it wasn't warm enough for the metal, more, more, more, get warmer and hit it, the correct way just like it's always been done, make the blade thinner, thinner than a hair. The air was thick and it was hard to breath, it was too hot and the muscles turned sore, sore as if they were ice melting under the sun, but you had to keep hiting, hit and crush the metal, crush it wisely and you will shape it however you want.  

Shape it however you want, shape it like a sword. 

"Miss Iwamoto." One of the girls shook Ayaka awake and she jumped a bit, opening her eyes. "You fell asleep in the bathtub." 

She gasped in confusion, bringing a hand up to her face and brushing away the wet hair from her eyes. The water around her body shakes with her. It smelled of wisteria. 

"I... I was forging a sword?" Ayaka asked the girl that woke her up, black eyes and hair that looked like the wings of a crow. She looked at her without blinking, smiling despite such a weird question. 

"No, you were taking a bath, just like you requested it before your audience with Oyakata-sama," she answered in a voice that didn't waver. She was sure of what she said and Ayaka had no other option but to believe her. There was something to her that imposed respect, Ayaka didn't know if it was because of how big and dark her eyes were or because she waved off utter calmness. She nearly didn't look human, her short white hair along with the bangs that cover her forehead only make her eyes look bigger, and the purple kimono decorated with flowers just made her out to be more ethereal, as if she wasn't real. 

"Really? But I'm a swordsmith," Ayaka asked again, forehead leaning against her hand. She looked down to the limp arm that hang by her side. Her head hurt. "What's up with my arm? I won't be able to finish forging my sword like this." 

"Don't say such silly things, you're not a swordsmith, you're a demon slayer," the girl insisted as if she was answering the questions of a confused little kid that asked about things bigger and greater than her. "Miss Tsuyuri broke it a few hours ago." 

"I'm... a demon slayer," Ayaka said out loud, as if trying to hammer that fact in her brain. Miss Tsuyuri, who was Miss Tsuyuri? She looked at a corner of the room to find a black uniform torn to pieces and a shimmering gray sword. That was Ayaka Iwamoto, and Ayaka Iwamoto was going to be sentenced to death for violating the corps' rules. Right, she was Ayaka Iwamoto. "I have an audience with Oyakata-sama?" 

The girl hummed in confirmation, walking off in slow but determined steps to a different corner. When she returned, on her hands was a clean change of clothes. Clothes Ayaka was foreign to. 

"In case you forgot, Oyakata-sama asked to personally talk with you." The girl helped her get out of the bathtub as she gave her a towel for Ayaka to cover her naked body with. The water is still warm, a wisteria smell emanating from it. The softness of her voice and the courtesy the girl was treating her with someone calmed her down, and Ayaka let herself be guided by her, allowing her to dry her and then put on her clothes, being careful at all moments with her broken arm. 

"He's been interested in you ever since you started training under Himejima's wing. But he never had a reason to call her so he prefers to have that audience now," the girl continued, as she made Ayaka stretch her arms to get the sleeves of the white kimono over them. "He says you are peculiar, and that you could be a pillar one day." 

Ayaka was still swimming in uncertainty, so she blinked as a response. The mist on her mind made her hold the girl's hand, who was smaller than her but even so could stand her weight.