The administrative hall was actually quite close, and it looked humble compared to the combat pavilions and the other buildings made to nurture martial artists.
Within, voices were low. Footsteps measured. Ink scratched steadily across paper somewhere behind latticed screens.
Odd. It seemed everyone working here wasn't a Martial Artist.
Ichigo stood where the servant had left her, sword at her side, bits of blood dried dark along the edge.
No one commented on it, nor even batted an eye.
After a time, an old, thin clerk approached, wearing robes edged in black and green thread.
"Name," he said.
"Ichigo Furutsu."
A pause. The brush hesitated.
"Origin?"
"Owari. Peasant-born."
That earned her a look. Not disdain. Assessment.
He nodded once. "Duel tag."
She handed it over.
The clerk examined the seal, the squire's mark, then placed it into a lacquered tray. Another clerk took it without ceremony and disappeared behind a screen.
"Congratulations. You are accepted as an external martial member of the Kinzoku Clan," the clerk said. "Realm: Martial Apprentice. Weapon classification: single-blade. Style: unregistered."
Ichigo listened as the old man finally spoke with a softer tone.
"Your new status grants you access to clan quests, regulated dueling grounds, medical treatment at reduced contribution cost, storage services, technique manual acquisitions, and access to the forge. You may earn contribution points through service or sanctioned victories. Forge services will be explained at the Forge itself."
He slid a wooden tablet across the desk.
A token. Plain. Heavy.
"This is your identification. Lose it and you'll need to get another duel tag through old means."
Her fingers closed around it.
The clerk continued, looking at her shabby clothes. "You will not receive stipends. Training halls are accessible only through contribution expenditure or sponsorship. You can also join the Noble Martial Academy, but it needs a student's recommendation and high contribution points as tuition fees."
Ichigo nodded.
"You are given a starting amount of 50 contribution points. You will be issued a provisional dougi once armament verification is complete," he said. "Before that—"
He gestured toward a doorway marked with the Kinzoku crest.
"—you will present your weapon to the inner smithy… better known as the forge."
The door opened.
Heat washed over her.
"Please proceed," he said as he covered his face from the hot steam. "Welcome to Kinzoku, young lady."
She gave her thanks and entered the smithy, the door quickly shutting behind her.
The smithy within the inner walls was nothing like the outer forges. No shouting. No sparks flying freely.
Every movement looked deliberate.
Forges burned low and hot. Smiths worked in silence, faces unreadable beneath soot and discipline. Weapons hung on racks not for sale, but for memory—each bearing marks of refinement, reforging, inheritance.
A master smith stepped forward. Ichigo felt a powerful aura emanating from the bearded man.
"Blade," he said.
Ichigo unsheathed her father's katana and held it out.
The smith took it carefully.
He did not comment at first. Ran fingers along the spine. Studied the hamon. The nicks. The depths of the grip. The uneven balance.
"You were hunting beasts?" he said finally. "Surprisingly, not many men."
Ichigo looked surprised. How'd he know?
"...This is an inherited weapon? It was not made for prolonged duels," he continued. "The steel is tired. The tang has been rewrapped twice."
He met her shocked eyes.
"You intend to keep using it?" He eyed the blade horizontally. "We can craft you something more modern."
"No thanks. This one's my partner."
The smith nodded.
"Smart choice. It will need work. It'll cost you a decent chunk of contribution points."
"I'll earn it."
Another nod.
He turned the blade once more, then returned it to her.
"You may carry it within the clan," he said. "But until reinforcement, do not bring it into noble-only halls. Wrap this cloth around the handle to signify your status and realm."
She bowed, shallow but respectful. She was about to walk back to the offices when he suddenly added, "Until you can afford reforging services, take good care of your partner, you hear?"
She nodded.
"Also, give it a name," the Master Smith said as he waved her goodbye and focused on another weapon.
She nodded, but this time confused, and left.
When she returned to the administrative hall, a folded bundle awaited her.
The clerk placed it in her arms.
"Clan dougi," he said. "Provisional."
Black fabric. Green trim. The Kinzoku crest stitched over the heart in muted thread.
Not ornate.
Not generous.
Real.
"It has limited defensive capabilities, is fireproof, and doesn't tear easily."
"You are assigned temporary lodging in the outer quarters marked on this map," the clerk continued as he handed her a folded parchment. "Meals are not included. Quest boards reset at dawn. Contribution ledgers update weekly. Check prices on the board over there," he said, pointing at a large wooden board on the wall.
He looked at her once more.
"There's one other thing," he said, giving her a smaller piece of paper. "Go here. They can deliver items to your hometown for a small fee. It's the most generous and credible transport group in all of Gifu."
He smiled. "Your family is quite lucky. You can rest easy."
Ichigo bowed and felt grateful.
Her stomach growled.
"You should go eat too," the old man added, shuffling and writing a name of a tavern on a piece of paper.
As she left the hall, dougi folded tight against her chest, her identification tag held tightly in her hands, she felt the weight of the clan settle onto her shoulders.
A new beginning.