Kaina crossed her arms, her smile fading slightly. "I get that, but you've got to think about the image you're projecting. Heroes are supposed to make people feel safe, not... intimidated. And knives strapped to their belts? That's not exactly reassuring."
Eichi met her gaze, his tone calm but firm. "The tanto is the only blade I'll carry. The rest of my weapons are blunt."
Kaina blinked, caught off guard. "Blunt? What do you mean?"
Eichi reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sketch, showing a set of weapons designed for non-lethal combat. There were kunai with rounded edges, weighted stone balls, and a few other tools that looked more like training equipment than actual weapons.
"These are for practicality," he explained. "The kunai are blunt—useful for disarming or incapacitating without causing serious harm. The weighted balls can be used for ranged attacks or to create distractions. And the tanto is there for when I need something more... decisive."
Kaina stared at the sketch, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "You've really thought this through, huh? But still, carrying around a bunch of weapons—even if they're blunt—isn't exactly standard hero protocol. People might think you're preparing for war or something."
Eichi shrugged. "If they do, they're not entirely wrong. Heroes fight villains. Villains don't play by the rules. I'd rather be overprepared than underprepared."
Kaina opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself, realizing she wasn't going to win this one. Instead, she sighed, shaking her head. "You're impossible, you know that? Fine, keep your blunt weapons and your tanto. But don't be surprised if people start calling you 'the ninja hero' or something."
Eichi didn't respond, his attention already shifting back to the design. The tanto wasn't just a weapon—it was a symbol of his training, his discipline, his Kenjutsu.
If people misunderstood that, so be it. He wasn't here to play the part of a flashy, crowd-pleasing hero. He was here to go up the ladder and use the influence to track them down.
Hatsume, who had been quietly observing the exchange, suddenly piped up. "You know, I could make the tanto collapsible or something. That way, it's less obvious when you're not using it. Still practical, but a little less... intimidating. What do you think?"
"No. Overcomplicating the tanto will inevitably cause logistical problems in an emergency. It's a last resort, not a gadget. I'd rather have a familiar, reliable weapon that complements my style than something prone to malfunction."
Hatsume pouted, clearly disappointed, but she didn't push the issue. "Alright, alright. No collapsible tanto. But I'm still making sure it's balanced and durable. You can't argue with that, right?"
Eichi gave a small nod. "I would apreciate it, yes please.
"Hatsume grinned, already scribbling notes on the design. "Got it! Balanced and durable tanto, coming right up. Oh, and I'll make sure the sheath is easy to draw from. You never know when you'll need it in a pinch."
Kaina, meanwhile, shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. But then her expression shifted, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Wait a second," she said, her tone more serious now. "How do you even know how to use a sword and knives? Even if they're blunt, that's not exactly a normal skill set. Most people don't just pick up blade fighting for fun. Where did you learn all that?"
Eichi's expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—caution, perhaps. "I trained," he said simply.
Kaina wasn't satisfied. "Trained where? With who? You're not exactly from around here, and your file doesn't say anything about martial arts or weapon training. So, what's the deal? You some kind of secret prodigy or something?"
"I've had experiences that required me to learn. That's all you need to know."
Kaina's eyes narrowed slightly, her suspicion growing. "Experiences, huh? That's pretty vague. You're not exactly making it easy to trust you, you know."
Eichi didn't flinch. "I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to do my job. If that's a problem, then that's your issue, not mine."
Some time later, Kaina returned to class, and Eichi made his way to the P.E. grounds. His costume had been prepared, and he walked toward the changing room, his expression as neutral as ever. He was well aware of the looks Kaina and the others gave him whenever they caught a glimpse of his scarred face and hands. He wasn't about to worsen his situation by giving them more to stare at.
The changing room was full of boys, already in various states of undress as they prepared to put on their costumes. Most of them had their costumes ready days before Eichi's, which was why it had taken so little time—just an hour—to finish his.Such practicality, he thought with a sigh. If it had taken any longer, he wouldn't have had to back away from the room and risk people seeing him perform hand signs to cast a genjutsu on himself.
As he walked out of the changing room, not a second later, someone called out, their voice loud and grating. "Yo, Eichi! Come on! Don't be shy."
Like usual, it was the annoying orange-haired guy, Kenta, who came walking toward him, a cocky grin plastered across his face. Eichi paid him no mind, locking the door behind him for a second to quickly perform the necessary hand signs.
The genjutsu settled over him like a veil, masking the worst of his scars while leaving the visible ones—the slash across his face and the marks on his hands—unchanged. It was a subtle illusion, one that wouldn't raise too many questions but would keep prying eyes from digging deeper.
He returned, opening the door, and stepped back into the room. Kenta was still there, his grin widening as he looked Eichi up and down. "Took you long enough. What, you hiding something in there? Or are you just that slow?"
Eichi ignored him, walking past without a word. He didn't have time for Kenta's nonsense, and he certainly wasn't going to entertain his attempts to provoke him.