The Forgemage of Konoha

Restrictions

Yes, Shirō still couldn't use it. His understanding of archery was limited to simply drawing the bow and releasing the arrow.

As for how to shoot accurately? Sorry—nine years of compulsory education never covered that, and ninja training certainly didn't include archery. Ninjas were taught assassination techniques, not how to hit bullseyes.

Therefore, it would still be a long time before Shirō could use archery effectively in combat—at least until he could Project bow-type Noble Phantasms. After all, very few people used bows in the world of Naruto, and in the two years Shirō had spent here, he hadn't even encountered a single archer.

For now, it was better to focus on Reinforcement Ninjutsu and continue sharpening his close-combat skills.

At that moment, Shirō's eyes fell upon the scroll sitting on the table—the one that had once sealed the Ten-Tails fragments. He picked it up thoughtfully.

This scroll was definitely not simple. First of all, it had once sealed a portion of the Ten-Tails. That kind of power wasn't something ordinary materials could contain. While the majority of the sealing work had been done through Fuinjutsu, the scroll's physical makeup had to be exceptional—it had endured for over a thousand years without weakening.

Secondly, it still held the seal intact. That alone qualified it as a valuable ninja tool. Letting it sit as some dusty heirloom would be a waste—it clearly had further use.

Shirō planned to visit Kushina the next day and ask if she could reforge the scroll into a wearable wrist guard—similar to Sasuke's—but designed to store his projected bow and be reusable.

Most importantly... it would look really cool.

As the successor of a Heroic Spirit who woke up every day looking cool and aloof, he had to live up to that image!

---

The Next Morning

Shirō woke early. He had to see Minato off today, and if he was late... Kushina would no doubt make him understand the horror of the Red Hot-Blooded Habanero all over again.

Still, he wasn't early enough. By the time he arrived at the village gates, many people had already gathered. He quickly scanned the crowd, and upon spotting Kushina and the others, jogged over.

"Big Sister, I'm not late, am I?"

"Nope, there's still some time before they leave," Kushina said with a squint and a mischievous smile. "You didn't see anything yesterday, right?"

"Uh..."

Shirō froze for a second, then immediately shook his head like a rattle-drum. "Nope! I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything! Big Sister, did you do anything yesterday?"

"Very good. As expected of my little brother." Kushina grinned and patted him on the shoulder.

"No, no, this is all because you taught me so well."

"Haha, is that so?"

"Of course!"

. . . × N

Minato and the others watched their ridiculous exchange, visibly speechless. Finally, Tsunade—who had been nearby—couldn't take it anymore and interrupted.

"You two, enough already. We've got an audience."

"Ah—yes, Tsunade-nee." Shirō cleared his throat. "Big Sister, Minato-san, you two keep chatting. I need to ask Tsunade-nee something."

"Mm, go ahead," Kushina waved him off, turning to Minato.

"Tsunade-nee, thank you for the gift. I really like it."

Shirō was genuinely grateful. When he first examined the bow she had given him, he noticed that it had been forged with chakra metal. That was no small favor—chakra-conductive metals were a rare and expensive resource.

"It's nothing. As long as you like it," Tsunade replied with a smile. "But I don't think you came here just to thank me, right?"

"Mm... I wanted to ask where it was forged. I'd like to engrave something on it."

"Oh, that bow? The blacksmith on the south side of the village is skilled. You can have any of your future ninja tools made there too."

"Got it, thank you, Tsunade-nee."

"You're so polite, kid." She chuckled.

Shirō simply offered a small smile in return. Though they were kind to him, they'd only known each other for a day. There was still distance between them.

---

After the Farewell

Time passed. Minato and the others had left for the battlefield.

Kushina walked beside Shirō along the village road. Her mood was visibly down—her beloved had gone to war, and all she could do now was wait.

Shirō, too, was somber. He knew the high probability that Dan would not return. Originally, he had wanted to warn him, to give him some kind of heads-up. But after much thought, he chose not to.

First, Dan was a shinobi. Even knowing the danger, he wouldn't abandon his duty.

Second, Shirō didn't know exactly where the danger lay—vague warnings would only add tension, not prevent disaster.

Third, after spending more than two years in this world—including a year on the frontlines of the Second Shinobi War—Shirō had no way of knowing what butterfly effects he'd already triggered. He couldn't afford to gamble with something he couldn't control.

Still, he liked Dan. The man had left a good impression on him yesterday. As a friend, Shirō felt a faint ache.

But regardless of how he felt, he couldn't let Kushina see it. In his heart, Kushina was like a little sister—after all, Shirō's mental age was well over twenty.

To distract her and give her something to focus on, Shirō brought up the scroll modification idea again—turning it into a wrist guard.

Kushina readily agreed. She was bored anyway. However, since she was a master of sealing and not a toolmaker, it would take some time. Shirō didn't mind.

Afterwards, he headed off to the blacksmith.

---

Forging a Bond

Shirō named the bow Kizuna—a word that meant "bond." It symbolized the connection he was beginning to form with this world.

"What do you want to engrave on it?" the blacksmith asked.

"The place where the one who misses you is—that is your home."

"And finally," Shirō added, "engrave the word Kizuna at the end."

The blacksmith smiled. "No problem. It won't affect the bow's function."

Shirō, sensing the man's familiarity with bows, asked hopefully, "Boss, do you know anyone who uses a bow? I still don't know how to use it well."

"You've asked the right guy," the owner replied. "I actually do know someone—he's a shinobi, and he's skilled with the bow."

Shirō's eyes lit up. "Really?! Can you tell me who it is?"

"His name's Kōsuke Maruboshi. He's a veteran shinobi. Unfortunately, he's not in the village at the moment. But if he were, I'd introduce you personally."

Kōsuke? Shirō mentally took note. In the manga, Kōsuke Maruboshi was known as the "Eternal Genin," a humble but highly capable shinobi with decades of experience. That he knew archery? A huge stroke of luck.

"Thanks, boss. That really helps. When can I pick up the bow?"

"Tomorrow."

"Got it. Thanks again!" Shirō said and left, heading toward the training grounds.

The blacksmith looked at his retreating figure and sighed, "What a polite kid."

---

Youth in Motion

Shirō arrived just in time to see a familiar and outrageous sight.

"Might Guy! Shirō is joining us! For him, add another five hundred laps!"

"Yes, Father!"

"Burn with youthful passion, Might Guy!"

"YES!"

"..."

Is this really okay? Shirō's eyes twitched as he watched Might Guy—who was only three years old—run with insane determination.

He shook his head. In this area, Might Dai was far more professional than he could ever be. It was his own son, after all—he knew what he was doing.

Still, Might Guy's raw Taijutsu talent was astonishing. His current training load already surpassed Shirō's!

Even so, Shirō didn't believe he'd fall behind. His own talent might be mediocre, but with the Heroic Spirit Card of Emiya Shirou, his potential was anything but ordinary.

After all, Emiya Shirou had 27 magic circuits—a first-generation magus, a miracle of raw will and adaptation. Despite being led astray by Kiritsugu's ideals, he still forged his own impossible path and achieved greatness.

Unfortunately, this blessing came with its own curse…