The afternoon sun filtered through the windows of a blacksmith's forge, illuminating the dust particles dancing in the hot air. The metallic sound of the hammer striking steel resonated with a constant rhythm.
—No! Not like that, boy! —Tetsuo's voice boomed above the noise—. The strike doesn't come from your arm, it comes from your whole body. Look!
The elderly blacksmith took Noah's hammer and gripped it firmly. His movements were measured and precise, and each strike landed on the same spot with millimeter accuracy.
—Metal has memory —he explained as he worked—. If you strike it with anger, it will give you anger back. If you strike it with patience, it will yield to you.
Noah watched attentively, absorbing every word. He had been attending the forge after his training sessions for several weeks now, and although at first his hands had only held cleaning tools, Tetsuo had kept his word: now he allowed him to approach the anvil.
—Try again.
Noah nodded, taking the hammer with both hands. He took a deep breath and, remembering the instructions, let his body weight guide the movement.
CLANG!
The strike was cleaner this time. Tetsuo nodded with satisfaction.
—Better. Keep it up.
Hours passed. Little by little, a shape began to take form on the anvil: four sharp points extending from a circular center. A large shuriken, more robust than conventional ones.
Noah didn't just shape it. With great care, using tiny tools that Tetsuo had created for precision work, he began to carve channels into the metal's surface.
The elderly blacksmith approached, peeking over his shoulder.
—What exactly are you doing, boy? That doesn't look like a normal shuriken.
—I call it an explosive shuriken —Noah replied without looking up, focused on his work—. It's an idea I had. The shuriken itself is just the support. The important part is this.
From his pocket, he took out a small, meticulously rolled scroll. Tetsuo narrowed his eyes.
—Is that a… miniature explosive scroll?
—Exactly.
Using his fingertips and tweezers, Noah began to embed the tiny scroll into the channels he had carved. When he finished, the shuriken looked like a single piece: the marks of the explosive seal were barely visible between the metal's grooves.
—Done. —Noah straightened up, wiping the sweat from his forehead—. Master, can I test it in the yard?
Tetsuo crossed his arms, amused.
—As long as you don't blow up my workshop, go ahead.
In the small backyard of the forge, Noah placed a wooden dummy against the wall. He stepped back a few paces, weighed the shuriken in his hand, and with a quick motion, threw it.
The star spun through the air with a sharp whistle before embedding itself in the dummy's torso.
An explosion tore through the wood. The dummy burst into splinters, and the thunderclap echoed off the yard's walls, raising a cloud of dust and smoke.
Tetsuo whistled, impressed.
—Wow… Now that's a shuriken with character.
Noah smiled, satisfied. He picked up some fragments from the ground, analyzing the damage.
—Next time I could adjust the amount of gunpowder in the seal… Maybe a chain detonation…
—Hey, hey —Tetsuo interrupted him, laughing—. Leave something for tomorrow, boy. It's almost dinner time. Go home to your family.
Noah looked at the sky. The sun was beginning to set behind the rooftops. He nodded and put away the tools he had used.
—You're right, Master. Thank you for today's lesson.
—Work hard, and maybe one day you'll surpass the master —the old man joked, giving him a pat on the shoulder—. Go on, get out of here.
---
—Nawaki, eat more vegetables —Tsunade ordered, pointing at the bowl of spinach with her chopsticks.
Noah rolled his eyes.
—I eat enough.
—It's not enough —she insisted, crossing her arms—. As skinny as you are, you look like a toothpick with legs.
Mito smiled sweetly from the head of the table, watching the exchange between siblings.
—Come on, Tsunade, let him eat at his own pace. —She served a little more soup into Noah's bowl—. But your sister is right, little one. You need to grow up strong and healthy.
—Yes, Grandma Mito —Noah replied with a smile, though inside he knew his build had nothing to do with his diet.
Tsunade snorted and changed the subject.
—Where do you disappear to all day? You vanish for hours, and no one knows where you are.
—I train —Noah replied, evasively—. And I learn from Master Tetsuo at the forge.
—The blacksmith on Market Street? —Tsunade raised an eyebrow—. And what is a child your age doing in a forge?
—Didn't I already tell you? Learning.
The conversation continued amid murmurs and the clinking of dishes. When they finished, Noah helped clear the table and, after wishing his grandmother and sister good night, retired to his room.
---
The door closed behind him with a soft click.
He knelt beside the bed and moved aside the rug covering the floor.
He placed his hands on the boards and concentrated his chakra. The wood responded to his call, slowly separating to reveal a dark hole. Wooden stairs descended into the depths.
Noah went down without hesitation. As he passed, the roots forming the tunnel walls glowed with a faint greenish light, guiding his way.
The laboratory lights turned on automatically upon detecting his presence.
Noah sat in front of a workstation and connected a small device to one of the screens. On it, three-dimensional blueprints rotated slowly.
—Final adjustments… —he murmured, manipulating the images with precise gestures.
For a long while, he worked on the details. He corrected angles, improved tolerances, added specifications. When he was satisfied, he transferred the files to a small USB drive.
He stood up and walked to a corner of the laboratory where an imposing machine occupied almost the entire wall. Its design was elegant, with white metal panels and blue lines running across its surface. He opened a side compartment, and inside, on a pedestal of light, rested a fascinating object.
A metallic icosahedron the size of a fist. Its reflective faces captured the light and broke it down into small rainbows that danced in the air.
Deppler metal.
This small polyhedron was the key to everything. Synthesized by the machine built by Professor Deppler, this material was the perfect substitute for the Fullmetal alloy required to create the most incredible gadgets.
With the USB in one hand and the Deppler metal in the other, he walked to the center of the laboratory, where a structure similar to a 3D printer awaited him.
The Anymaker.
This machine was not designed to create other gadgets. Its original function was to produce minor objects, simple tools. But with Deppler metal replacing Fullmetal alloy, Noah could synthesize anything using the Anymaker, as long as he had the correct blueprints and the right base material.
He inserted the USB into a slot and opened the machine's side compartment. Carefully, he deposited the icosahedron inside. The compartment walls lit up, and a soft hum indicated that the process had begun.
On an adjacent screen, a progress bar appeared, showing the estimated time for the synthesis of the new gadget: 10 hours.
Noah nodded, satisfied.
He left the machine working through the night.
He climbed the wooden stairs, sealed the tunnel with his Mokuton, and put the rug back in place.
He lay down on the bed, feeling the weight of the training weights on his limbs, and closed his eyes.