Naruto: The Chosen Undead

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Chapter no.69 The Dance of Blades

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Tenten ran harder, her feet pounding against the dirt path as if she could outrun her thoughts. The crisp morning air filled her lungs, but it did nothing to clear the frustration boiling inside her. She thought she was past this. After everything she'd been through—the years of training, the sacrifices, the growth—she thought she'd accepted her path.

But Naruto's words kept echoing in her mind.

"You could be more than just a weapons specialist."

Tenten clenched her fists mid-stride, feeling the heat rise to her face as if she'd been scolded. She had given up on medical ninjutsu for a reason—she didn't have the talent, didn't have the flawless chakra control required. It wasn't her fault, was it? She'd tried. She'd failed. That was it.

But then her mind betrayed her, dragging up thoughts of Lee. Rock Lee, who had started with nothing. Who had no talent for ninjutsu or genjutsu. Who had worked so relentlessly that his hard work became his talent.

Why couldn't she do that? Why couldn't she have worked harder? If Lee could take his weaknesses and turn them into strengths, why couldn't she have done the same?

For a fleeting moment, the words she never wanted to admit surfaced in her mind.

I settled.

Her breath hitched, and she slowed her pace, the sound of running water pulling her from her thoughts. She had reached her home: the blacksmith's shop.

The Higurashi Blacksmith Shop wasn't like the traditional buildings in Konoha. It stood out in a way that was both rustic and charming—a multi-story watermill house constructed from aged stone and timber. Ivy climbed the weathered walls, and balconies jutted out from various levels, each cluttered with tools, hanging pots, and the occasional drying herbs.

The massive waterwheel turned steadily in the river's current, its rhythmic creaking blending with the sounds of the forge within. Smoke curled from the stone chimney, carrying the familiar scent of coal and heated metal. The building was warm, industrious, and full of life—just like the man who ran it.

Tenten shook her head at the sight. Her father had once joked that he named the shop the Higurashi Blacksmith Shop because he didn't have time for anything more creative. She was certain a five-year-old could have come up with something better.

Her father, Higurashi Hiten, was a man of contradictions: equal parts war veteran and tinkering genius. Injured on the front lines during the battle for Kannabi Bridge, he'd survived thanks to none other than Minato Namikaze himself. The Earth Release jutsu that had crushed his left leg left him unable to return to the field, but in his recovery, he had found a new calling.

Hiten had been so fascinated by the engineering of his prosthetic leg that he apprenticed himself to the blacksmith who made it and rebuilt his life—literally and figuratively. Now, as a master craftsman, he was the go-to for shinobi who wanted the highest-quality weapons and tools.

Tenten was about to head inside when the sound of voices caught her attention. She froze, frowning.

One of them was unmistakably Naruto.

Stepping into the shop, Tenten stopped in her tracks.

There, standing at the counter, was Naruto, chatting animatedly with her father. Hiten had Naruto's helmet in his hands, turning it over like a child marveling at a shiny new toy.

"So, can you fix my armor set?" Naruto asked, his tone hopeful.

Hiten laughed, his prosthetic leg making a soft clink as he shifted his weight. "Do I look like a miracle worker to you, kid?"

Tenten frowned at the comment, her lips pressing into a thin line. Why was her father downplaying his skills like that? If anyone could repair armor, it was him.

"You can't fix it?"

Hiten let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "Fix it? This thing is way above my level. Just look at it! The amount of refined pure metal used in this helmet alone is more than I've worked with in my entire shop."

Naruto blinked, confused. "Uh… isn't that just normal metal?"

Hiten let out a hearty laugh, setting the helmet down carefully. "Kid, refined metal like this is very rare in Konoha. Most shinobi gear is made with iron sand that's had the impurities burned out. It's good, but it's not this. The only place with enough ore to make something like your armor is the Land of Iron." He gestured toward the helmet with reverence. "This isn't just armor—it's art."

Naruto scratched the back of his head, looking both impressed and disappointed. "Huh… so you really can't fix it?"

Hiten sighed, giving Naruto a sympathetic shrug. "I'm afraid not, kid. But I'll tell you this much—whoever made this armor? They're a genius."

It was then that Hiten and Naruto noticed Tenten standing in the doorway.

A wide grin spread across Hiten's face, his eyes lighting up. "Ah, my beautiful daughter is here!" he exclaimed proudly, his voice warm. "I was just talking to your interesting friend."

Tenten's face immediately darkened, her arms crossing over her chest. "He's not my friend," she snapped.

The air grew awkward as silence fell over the room.

"Ouch. Don't hold back or anything, Tenten. Tell me how you really feel."

Tenten glared at Naruto for acting like nothing had happened between them, but her father cut in with a chuckle. "Now, now, don't be like that," Hiten said, his prosthetic leg clinking softly as he stepped closer. "The boy's got good taste in armor, if nothing else. And he's got manners. Better than some of the shinobi who come in here barking orders."

"See? Your dad gets it!"

"What do you want?"

Naruto paused, his usual grin nowhere to be seen. "I came for the spar. Swordsman to swordswoman… right?"

"Fine. Let's take this outside."

Her tone carried an edge, cold and unyielding, and it was clear from the way she turned on her heel that she didn't intend to treat this as a simple sparring match.

From the doorway, Higurashi Hiten frowned as he watched them step out into the open yard. Something about the way his daughter carried herself, the way her frustration simmered just beneath the surface, made him uneasy.

The morning air was crisp, and the light from the rising sun spilled across the yard, painting the dew-soaked grass in shades of gold. To the right stood Naruto, his Zweihander resting casually on his shoulder. He looked relaxed, almost carefree, yet there was a quiet intensity in his gaze. To the left, Tenten adjusted the katana on her hip, her stance low and ready, the steel gleaming in the soft light. A few meters of space stretched between them, framed by the backdrop of trees swaying gently in the morning breeze. To the side, a river ran steadily, its surface catching the sunlight and reflecting flashes of gold and silver.

The sun hung low, its light creeping over the horizon, casting long shadows that danced between the two figures. The faint rustle of leaves and the murmur of the river were the only sounds—the calm before the inevitable clash.

From the porch, Higurashi Hiten leaned on the railing, watching the two with a mix of pride and anticipation. His eyes darted to Naruto's massive Zweihander, and he couldn't help but let out a small, delighted chuckle. "What a… sword," he murmured to himself, unable to hide his admiration.

"I see you haven't been practicing what I taught you."

"Your teachings worked for the katana," Naruto replied. "But I can't fight the same way with a greatsword."

Hiten chimed in, "He's right, Tenten. That sword wasn't designed for finesse like a katana. A weapon like that relies on its weight and momentum to do the work, not the user's strength or precision."

Tenten's grip on her katana tightened, her jaw clenching at her father's comment. She could feel the sting of embarrassment creeping in, amplified by Naruto's calm demeanor. He wasn't mocking her, but the fact that he didn't rise to her bait only made her more frustrated.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.

Hiten's sharp eyes flicked between the two. His years as a shinobi and blacksmith told him everything he needed to know. "This won't last long," he muttered under his breath. "It'll end in one strike."

As the sun crept higher, its light caught the surface of the river, creating a dazzling flash that masked Tenten for a split second. She moved in that moment, her body a blur of speed as she struck with a textbook Iai technique—a lightning-fast draw-and-strike maneuver.

But Naruto was ready.

With a surge of power, he brought the Zweihander down in a monstrous arc. The sheer weight and range of the greatsword made up for his slower speed, and its blade met Tenten's katana with an earth-shaking clang.

The katana didn't stand a chance.

With a deafening crack, the thinner blade shattered on impact, shards of steel scattering into the air like glimmering fragments of a broken dream. The force of the collision unleashed a blast of air that rippled outward, kicking up leaves and dust in a swirling vortex.

When the dust settled, the Zweihander's edge was poised mere centimeters from Tenten's shoulder, its monstrous weight held still.

"It's over," Hiten said softly from the porch.

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[ Personal Note: First off, thanks a ton to all of you for sticking with this story. Seriously, you guys are awesome. Now, if you're interested in supporting me on P@treon, let me just say that over there, I post these massive 5k-word chapters. But heads up, if you're jumping to P@treon, you'll need to start from Chapter 33, since that's where this chapter lines up with the content there.

To everyone here just reading along, please don't forget to leave a comment! Honestly, your comments make my day, and they let me know you're as invested in this story as I am. So yeah, thanks again, and I hope you have an amazing rest of your day!