A sword? Are you stealing from me? I'm not stealing. I... am practicing. Why does a...

[In a flashback, an adolescent Mizu is training with one of Eiji's sword at night in the rain. She swings the sword, but it slips out of her hands and falls. Mizu grunts and bends over to get the sword. However, Eiji hears her and lightly hits her in the back of the head with his tongs. Mizu grabs her head and turns to Eiji]
The Swordmaker: A sword? Are you stealing from me?
Mizu: [pause] I'm not stealing. I... am practicing.
The Swordmaker: Why does a swordmaker's apprentice practice swordplay?
Mizu: [breathes deeply] Because I must become a great swordsman. I must become the greatest swordsman alive.
The Swordmaker: [chuckles] Is that all? And why must you become such a swordsman?
Mizu: [sighs] Forgive me. I've kept from you a secret. One everyone else knows as plain as my face, but you do not.
The Swordmaker: [pause] I know you're ugly. What is ugly to me?
Mizu: You are blind... and so cannot see the shame of my face. I am... made of mixed metal. No amount of hammering can remove my impurity. At the time I was born, there were four white men in all of Japan. Men who traded in weapons and opium and flesh. One of them took my mother and made of me... a monster. A creature of shame. I do not know their names. I do know their fate. They will all die by my hand. I have vowed this.
The Swordmaker: [pause] What have I taught you about steel?
Mizu: The strongest sword is a blend of steel - soft and hard.
The Swordmaker: Pure and impure. You may be something shameful. You may also be strong.
[Eiji turns to walk away]
The Swordmaker: You may train at nights