[Masamune no Gin]

These so-called "hidden villages" were strange things. Not just due to the inhabitants, nor the fact that they were far too large and obvious to be considered hidden by any stretch of the imagination, but the equipment on the soldiery she saw was frankly embarrassing. Knives? Trowels? Jackets? No proper armor, no proper bows, no proper long arms or swords...

Gin sighed. At least this country had the good sense to employ ashigaru.

It didn't really effect her, personally. As long as she was paid and continued to receive worthwhile commissions, and materials to fulfil those commissions, she would be happy. Though she was sometimes required to leave her forge. Or, well, 'required,' in this case. Honestly, she had hit a little bit of a block in some of her work, and the catalog of designs she had in her mind and inherited manuals weren't providing an answer. Or, rather, the answer was there, in the ancient teachings, but she needed to work out a way to synthesize the slurry of ideas. So, on the pretense of ensuring that a commissioned weapon would meet requirements, she had opted to deliver it herself. A courier could have handled it, but she had some leeway in the country, so long as she kept working, and didn't try to leave the country without permission.

But wanting to stretch her legs, see more of her host country, and find some spark of inspiration away from her scrolls and forge didn't erase the problem she was experiencing. She had delivered the blade easily enough, and even met with some of the shinobi she had commissioned rare animal bones from. That had been easy enough. Simply pass her needs up the chain, then go to an arranged meeting point. Even escorted. Simple.

Then she had taken to the streets, trying to find some inspiration, somewhere. A meeting of architecture and nature that would spark an epiphany. A snippet of conversation that would cause the tangled problem to resolve in her head. But nothing was resolving, and no eureka moment was forthcoming.

And now she was lost.

It dawned on her slowly. A realization that not only were the streets and alleys unfamiliar, but that she had no real idea of how she got here, nor how to get back to the gates. She could ask the shinobi tasked with her protection for guidance, but... no. The very idea rankled her. Admitting that she, a proud Masamune, had gotten lost? Unthinkable. Mortifying enough to admit to herself. Wandering lost until her shadow realized it wasn't an option. Asking for help or guidance wasn't an option. There had to be some way to resolve this smoothly and cleanly.

Gin raised a hand to her chin, pondering this unwelcome conundrum. But her thoughts - of forging blades and how to maintain her pristine image - were interrupted by a curious sight. A child wearing... a helmet? A discarded piece of fruit? And rags? Gin's nose wrinkled in disgust, and she couldn't even perceive what the child was doing.

"What on earth are you wearing?!" She despaired aloud, the sight ridiculous enough to breach her veneer of disaffected calm.

[Honō Kin]

There was a moment where when Kin was walking through the streets of her village, actually, on her way back home from the academy at that. After she'd been in a "little" incident. A couple of scrapes, and a little bit dirtier than she would have liked. Kin found herself paused by a cry of indignation, if not almost offense, when looking left, and then right. Before finding the source of the voice. Masamune Gin. Before Kin found herself slowly pointing towards herself, as if to confirm if she was whom the white haired lady was speaking to. In which case, within a hop and a skip, little Kin stood before her.

"Eto...This is my favorite helmet. It's made from a watermelon! And this is my poncho!" She says, showing off the little cloak along her back, showing how her rags hugged along her frame in a sort of loose mishmash amalgamation. "It's really good for when it's hot! It's made from hand me downs from my big siblings!" She says, a little bit confused on why Gin seemed so despaired. "It's good an' cheap!~ We got the watermelon for five hundred ryo!~ Don't I look great?" Smiling brightly, she looks towards the lady in earnest. Even if she didn't, Kin liked it a lot, and that was all that mattered right? 

"Umm...can I help you Gin Onee? My name is Kin! You look a little lost." In truth, she called her Gin completely out of coincidence, considering the color of her hair, but if she'd known, she probably would have called her that anyways. Kin was always friendly, kind, and generally ambivalent towards anyone and everyone she met or knew.

[Masamune no Gin]

A watermelon. A watermelon.

Gin looked flabbergasted, and increasingly horrified as the child continued to talk. A poncho? It was clearly just old scraps of discarded clothing crudely stitched together. Her head encased in literal garbage. Where were this child's parents? Were they dead? Absent? Neglectful? Abusive?

Gin could think of no other explanations.
"You look... hm..." Gin tried to find some way to put this tactfully. As odd and offensive her attire was, she was still just a child. But maybe that was the problem. Everyone coddled her and told her she looked great, despite looking like an insane vagrant. "You look like you've lived a hard life. You... you truly don't have any more... presentable clothes? Something not salvaged from scraps?" Gin's expression was pitying, but she was also keeping her distance.

Who knew what diseases lay hidden in such filthy attire?

Being referred to accurately by name - if somewhat familiarly - was a pleasant surprise. For how horrid her appearance was, the child clearly kept aware of the people of note in her nation, and was aware of who she was.
"Me? Lost? Ha! As though I, Masamune no Gin, would do something as pedestrian as become lost!" She balked, but she couldn't deny it too strenuously. She was lost, but appearances needed to be maintained. Especially since the child already knew who she was. "I was merely pondering which route to take back to the main gate." Would the child pick up on that not-so-subtle invitation?

Gin wasn't getting her hopes up. A watermelon, really?

[Honō Kin]

"Uhh. Ah. I have a really nice Kimono that miss Kumori bought me. And umm. Another one, I wear to the clan's remembrance festival." She says, tilting her head to the side. "But my mama and papa tell me they'll get me some more clothes of my own when I'm older. And maybe I'll get to pass on my clothes to a little brother or sister too if they have another! I want to be an Onee-Chan too!" She giggles happily at the thought. Though, she seemed to pause when Gin had mentioned a surname she'd never heard, and had seemed balked at the thought of getting lost as pedestrian. A word that Kin didn't even understand.

"Oh. Umm. Okay." Kin says, looking upwards, sort of staring, confused at Gin when she says she was pondering which route to take to the main gate. A breeze blew between them, and somehow, a tumbleweed seemed to stumble between them, as the situation was so comical. After a period of what seemed like thirty seconds, Kin would ask, "Do you want me to show you a fun way?" She asks, tilting her head, and spinning in a pivot cutely, as she nearly stumbles and trips, but throws on an air of theatricity. Before long, Kin adds offers her hand out for the swordsmith to take, of which the hand looked clean enough. Maybe just a little bit of dirt at most. 

"By the way Onee-Chan. I won't tell anyone you got lost. Promise."

[Masamune no Gin]

Two kimono. And a poncho. Did the child wear the watermelon with her kimono as well? Gin's expression was equal parts disgusted, confused, and pitying. She again thanked the gods that she had the good fortune of being born into an actually reputable family.

"I believe your parents should first be able to properly clothe and raise their current children before conceiving more..." It was muttered, and the tone caustic. Gin clearly thought very poorly of the poverty-stricken child's mother and father.

She looked down at the offered and grubby hand, and her nose wrinkled in instinctive disgust.

She was no court lady. Her hands were calloused and rough from working the forge, and she was no stranger to getting her hands dirty. But the grime of the forge was at least sanitary. What if the child had fleas? Or some other contagion? Grimacing, she eventually took the offered hand, gripping it very lightly.

Well, being shown to be gracious to the lowliest soul would reflect well on the Masamune name. "Very well - show me this 'fun' way." Perhaps there would be something to spark an epiphany on the way. Or at least a nice boutique or cafe.

Gin glared down at the child. "As I explicitly told you, I did not become lost." Even the child had seen through her ruse. Was it that poor or... no, perhaps she was just smarter than Gin had given her credit for. Even the lowliest street rat could be a genius in their own way. "Instead of speaking on that..." Gin glanced around the unfamiliar streets, clearly trying to change the subject. "What exactly makes this route fun?"

[Honō Kin]

Was it wrong that Kin wore her watermelon nearly everywhere? She never thought it too odd either, though, she didn't wear it often to school or big social gatherings. As she came to look upon Masamune Gin, she looked a little confused, not evidently getting the high and mighty vibe as she looked down on Kin quite literally. "There's ten of us!" That might have been a real thought for the girl before her. However, before long? She'd felt Gin's hand, and with it, when the hand was gripped lightly, Kin would adjust her hand and hold it more firmly, wrapping her small fingers around Gin's palm.

"Oh. What makes it fun?~ Is all the stores!" She says, swiftly tugging on Gin, looking to drag her along almost, as she walks down the central road, passing by a busy market district, where many merchants gathered, some griping about deals, the exchange of coin for rice, as well as the presence of numerous restaurants and other businesses. To which Gin might come to overhear one such business. "I told you already, I can't handle an order of that size. I might craft the finest arms and armor, but I can't supply you with that many. Not without cutting corners. And I don't jeapordize the quality of my craft. It's my reputation on the line."

Gin might have scoffed at such a claim, but with it, Kin slowly says, "My papa's a blacksmith too. And all of my brothers and sisters are either ninja, or are in training too." She says, giggling softly, as she sways her arms back and forth whilst holding Gin's hand, in an overexaggerated way that seemed far too bright and cheeful. "Do you wanna do a lil' window shopping with me? I don't have any money, but...It's fun seeing what's around! When I become a ninja. I'm gonna buy lots of stuff! Really!"

[Masamune no Gin]

"Ten?!" Gin, perhaps, should have schooled her reaction better. It was not proper to display such naked surprise openly. She should be unflappable, irreproachable. And yet the disbelief escaped her instinctively. Gin cleared her throat, and cast her gaze to the middle distance. "I suppose the simple-minded truly do lack for edifying entertainment." It was as as suggestive and biting a critique she'd voice to a child's ears.

It seemed the child did practice appropriate filial piety, so perhaps the parents weren't completely worthless.

Gin was unhappily pulled along, and cast a critical eye on the stores present. Most were dismissed immediately. Selling trinkets and fare for the common folk. Who actually bought rice for themselves these days?

Her ears perked up as she heard familiar-sounding talk coming from a blacksmith. A fellow perfectionist, it seemed, but certainly far from a Masamune's standards. Still, she craned her neck to see some sampling of his wares, when the child she was escorted by - or, rather, Gin was escorting - started talking again. And swinging her arm as though a Masamune was her rag doll.

"A blacksmith clan, hm? I've never heard tell of any smiths of note from this backwater country." She made her arm rigid, to foul attempts at swinging her arm. Despite her appearance, Gin actually had a fair amount of strength in her wiry arms. "My family is much the same, though some of our number dilute the clan's mastery of the forge with pretensions of peerage and retainer ship as opposed to... whatever it is shinobi do."

Her brother was among those fools, playing at politics and swordsmanship instead of a Masamune's true calling. And yet Gin was being passed over as the heir.

Her grip on Kim's hand tightened momentarily, as a brief shadow of anger crossed her features. It soon passed.

"I have no need of purchasing whatever novelties your kind produce here, but it can't hurt to at least see my competition." Gin took the lead for once, leading them directly towards the blacksmith who had been arguing earlier.

[Honō Kin]

"Mhm! Ten! My Kaa-San likes to fight my auntie over everything, including how many kids they had. And my auntie's got twelve kids! Hehe!~" She didn't understanding the disbelief was one of insult as opposed to genuine amazement. However, when they were lead along, she'd looked a little confused. "Huh?...We've got lots of edible entertainment." She says looking cutely at Masamune Gin, before they continued their little adventure. That was, until she was stopped, with Gin stopping Kin from swaying their arm. Until she mentioned something about retainers and peerage. "Huh?...Peer-age. Umm. Why are they mad at their peers?"

She found herself somewhat confused as she winces at Gin tightening her grip. "A-Ah. Ah!" She slowly looks upwards, until she talked about seeing her competition. Where when she did, she would see an older looking man, past his prime by the seem of it. Never stopping as he worked along his molds. "I hope you are here to buy something. It's awfully rude otherwise." He calls forth, never turning his head as the hammer rises and makes the steel sing. For there was one thing that ws true of the smiths of Kusagakure no Satou. Is that they had much experience working steel and reforging it for the swathes of soldiers that they held. For there were ten times as many soldiers as there were Shinobi or more, and their weapons were their primary method of combat. So needless to say, the smiths were often busy. 

Everyone in Kusa needed to know how to defend themselves, for when conflicts arise, they tended to be embroiled in the greater nation's conflicts. In addition, many herald ancestry to the soldiery that served the Daimyo, making forth one of the largest clans in all of Kusagakure, all things considered. When looking upon the steel that was made, Kin saw everything as completely and utterly ordinary. Swords. Shuriken. Knives. Naginata. Spears. Looking ahead, Kin seemed fascinated by everything and how uniformed everything seemed to be. Though Kin knew about as much about smithing as she did about being a ninja. Which to be fair wasn't very much considering her age and inexperience.

When turning to face Gin, she could see that he was half blind, his eyes straining to make her out properly if at all, considering their milky cloudiness.

[Masamune no Gin]

The look of bewildered disgust only deepened, and Gin decided not to press further. Knowing her luck, the common folk here were inbred as well...

"Edifying," Gin corrected, flatly. "It means- No, never mind. Perhaps you and yours are best left to simple distractions for simple minds." She was losing confidence that people like the family that had spawned this horde of poverty-stricken children could be redeemed at all.

Especially since she didn't even know what it was to attain peerage. By her age, Gin had already been embroiled in politics, albeit against her will.

"I will purchase something if and only if I have both need of it, and it is of surpassing quality," Gin snapped, brushing her hair out in a dramatic arc. "You should be grateful that I'm even perusing your wares." Critical eyes passed over the work, then to the smith. Her impression soured swiftly. The man could barely see - how would he do any fine work like that? See the exact moment when the steel reached the optimal temperature?

She shook off Kin, then walked over to a display, ensuring her heeled boots clicked noisily against the floor. She took up a shuriken, and frowned, turning it over in her hand.

The steel looked to be even, the edges sharp and well carbonized. An adequately forged object. But she shook her head, and placed it back on the shelf in disgust. "What is this weapon even supposed to be? No hilt for proper leverage, no point to pierce armor... the steel would be better spent on a proper tachi. Or arrowheads. Perhaps a spoon?" She placed hands on her hips, and looked back to her alleged peer, mouth twisted into a sneer. "Perhaps I will purchase something from you. Your steel, so it won't be wasted on these inferior designs."

[Honō Kin]

Funnily enough. Considering the rarity of the Yoton Kekkei Genkai, it wasn't all that unlikely there was some level of incest. Cousins tended to get married in their cousin from time to time as far as she knew. Though, that just tended to happen out of proximity. Though, in those next moments, Gin was making it evidently clear how she felt about the young six year old with her growing annoyance. Kin however was not silver, she was gold. Soft, shining, catching many people's eyes. However, in those next moments, the child stood along the side, listening to the little tyrant rant of the Masamune smith.

"It's a Shuriken!" She exclaims, and with it, she looks it over. The throwing star a very familiar tool, though she'd only ever used rubber ones unless using them while supervised in the training yard of the academy. "You throw it! Like this!" She says, making a throwing gesture, whipping her hand out with a practiced precision. However, she didn't need to say so much as the smith before her took over.

"Armor is expensive." They exclaim, taking a momentary respite to turn towards her. "Especially when custom and tailor made for the user. And with diminishing value when your opponents can breath fire, or shoot lightning from their fingertips. Arrows blown away by gusts of wind or blocked by sheets of stone. I make my wares for Shinobi mostly. Though. I don't blame you for not knowing what a Shuriken is...It isn't crafted commonly by amateurs." Throwing some shade back at the Masamune, challenging her skill, or rather lack thereof, he'd shift his steely gaze towards her general direction with disdain and spite.

"Now, if you come into my smithy to insult my wares and craft without buying anything, leave me to my work and peace. Unlike some people, we actually have work to do."

[Masamune no Gin]

Gin wrinkled her nose skeptically. Throwing weapons, especially ones so small and light, seemed ill-suited to the battlefield. No matter how skilfully one could throw it - and it seemed the child had some skill - she just couldn't picture it as anything other than a gimmick.

A consideration soon forgotten as insults were carelessly thrown her way.

"Oh, believe me, I am fully aware of how much a proper set of armor is worth, and why. And why samurai are willing to part with their money to acquire it." Gin was smiling, but there was no mirth in her eyes. Instead, her expression spoke volumes of her increasing contempt for this supposed smith. "Not that I'd expect an amateur who thinks these shuriken are a mark of skill. Proud of yourself for being able to balance a throwing weapon, are you?" Gin scoffed, waving a hand both dismissively and dramatically.

The contempt turned to an outwardly hostile glare, ignoring the child who had brought her here entirely. "As I said, I would be willing to purchase some steel from you. If nothing else other than to spare it from your bumbling efforts. Honestly, you're supposed to be a representative of how a journeyman conducts himself here? A master?" She laughed, forced and theatrical. "I don't think you would even qualify as an apprentice in my clan."