Screw It, I'm Going Out to Find It!

Chapter IX: Run In With Smoker

Inside smelled like metal. Sharp and strong with an acrid scent of oil on top of it. Blades lined the walls and there were barrels filled with what he assumed to be cheaper blades. The bored looking shopkeeper at the front had a display case of what must have been the more expensive ones.

It was a great variety that lined the walls, the majority looking Mistralian in design. He began browsing, not exactly sure what he should be looking for. After all, he entered Beacon after no official training. How was he supposed to know what fit him? The best he could think of was something similar in weight and size to Crocea Mors.

He was checking a sword out when he noticed someone else shopping by him. It was a woman with black hair and glasses. Glancing at her face told him she was older, but she reached just a head shorter than him. She was closely examining the many blades and scratching a pen on a notepad. His first thought was what sort of freak takes notes when not held at gunpoint or under threat of Goodwitch. His second was that she might actually know something about swords.

"Excuse me, miss?" He tapped her shoulder, surprising her. He returned the action, her startled grunt startling him. After recovering, he cleared his throat and asked, "I need to buy a new sword. I don't know much about them, do you think you could help me pick one out?"

***

Tashigi, if she would ever admit such a thing, was a bit frustrated with Smoker. She respected him, and she knew she would never leave his side. That being said, he was a bit of a perfectionist. They were to guard the entrance to the Grand Line, and Smoker had been stationed there for years; he had gained the reputation as a barrier between Remnant and the Grand Line. Then, just days ago, that record was broken.

In Tashigi's opinion, it really didn't count. It was the first time in years that Smoker had ever been away from post. In fact, it was the first she was ever aware of. Those limited edition Vacuan cigars had just been too much for him to ignore. It just so happened that in that single day, a multitude of crews made it past their post. At the moment, he was now chasing some Jaune guy who was the only one they were certain of an identity. Honestly, from the description she heard, he kind of reminded her of that poor kid she met earlier. He was nervous and in over his head, trying to find a weapon that would help him one day become a hero. She would have been suspicious, but there's no way it could have been him. He wasn't the strong, scary, dangerous man that radio had described him as.

She helped him pick out a simple cutlass. It wasn't any fantastic grade or noteworthy, but he seemed to take to it quickly. He said it matched the aesthetic. She figured it was a bit too on the pirate-side, but he was likely from elsewhere on Remnant and just meant sailor-like.

She was daydreaming about what else she could have advised him when Smoker smacked a stack of papers down onto his desk. He grumbled, reading through the stack, then handed it to her. "There's a report about a robbery. It was a local swords shop, one Pine Rd. by the docks."

Tashigi gasped, reading the report. She was certain that the sword she helped that boy decide on was the only thing stolen. That fiend! Who would take a sword from an aspiring swordsman! "I'll find the culprit and bring them to justice, sir!" Smoker grunted in acknowledgement.

***

"How much do I owe you?" Jaune asked Blake. When they had all met up at The Bucket, he let them know his situation. It had been way too embarrassing to have that woman help him, listing off knowledge like Weiss talking about dust, and then not having even a fraction of the cost. Blake told him she had it covered and came back not too long ago with the one he described.

Blake shrugged. "Nothing."

"I-I can't just take your money!" Jaune insisted. "What kind of captain would I be if I just took my crew's money?"