55. Tadaomi Karasuma: Ignition (1/1)


May 10, a few days before the first midterms

This is the most difficult mission I've ever had. These are children I'm pulling through knife work drills right now. I've managed to get all of them to stay behind for extra training sessions, but I can see several of them who'd rather be going home. It's Saturday, but they aren't allowed to participate in the school's club activities. As far as their job is concerned, they can either do this, or study. Of course, this session is optional, but I reminded them that they should consider one of them earning ten billion yen as equally optional. I also let them know that the exercise would improve their mental acuity too. That got them to work, for now at least.

They do deserve their free time, and I'm doing my best to allow them some. It's unrealistic to expect them to save the world (and isn't that just a breathtaking thought) when the world isn't letting them live in it. The very things that make this setup convenient for us, giving them plenty of free time and cutting off their social entanglements, also make them unsuitable. Frankly, if these children came to me as soldiers back in the 1st Airborne, I'd send every single one of them home. They had a look of utter defeat when I first met them. First and foremost, they're motivated by money. The other day, the target threatened to leave if they didn't do extremely well on their next tests. If not for that, they wouldn't even be putting much effort into studying.

I don't blame them or look down on them for that. They're teenagers. If they still didn't put in effort after our efforts to motivate them, then we'd have a problem, but so far they've risen to the challenge admirably, though I'd prefer it if their motivations were a little more pure.

I spot one of my students swinging her blade terribly wrong. "Kurahashi!" I weave my way through the crowd, offhandedly deflecting a strike from the class's resident mischief maker on the way. I take the wavy-haired girl's hand in mine to correct her grip. "If you keep swinging it like that, it'll fly right out of your hand. You loosen your grip towards the end of each set. You have to stay tense all the way through, and swing with intent."

She blinks owlishly at me, biting her lip before speaking. "But, don't I have to be loose to change the direction I'm swinging in?"

Here is the biggest difficulty I face. In the armed forces, we are taught to use a command voice to make our men follow instructions promptly and properly. We expect perfection, and if we don't get it, there are consequences. It all comes back to the inescapable fact that these are children, and they didn't ask for this to be placed on their shoulders. Being too forceful will make them resentful, but if I'm too weak I'll be ignored. It's a delicate balance. More so because I do need to push them to give as much as I reasonably can.

"...I'll show you. Here." I gesture for her to hand over her knife. Turning sideways to her, I slowly go through eight strikes in three seconds. "You keep your grip firm always. Your wrist and elbow will need to be a bit loose only when you're pulling back and repositioning. When you strike, they have to be firm too, so you can transfer the power of your whole body into the blade. It takes more force that you think to stab someone. This rapid tensing and releasing takes time to get used to, but you will master it soon." I say definitively.

She watches my speed in awe, but that was less than half of what I'm capable of. Her face scrunches up into an exaggerated frown. "Yes, sensei! I'll do my best." Apparently, that was her trying to look serious.

But that cliched line... She probably didn't think about it, but it's not one that will serve her well. "All right, listen up!" I announce to the whole class. A few of them almost stop before realizing nobody else is. I clasp my hands behind my back as I walk through them again. "You may have told yourself in that past that you did your best. You may have taken comfort or satisfaction in it. But, I am telling you right now, you don't have even the barest inkling of what 'your best' is. If you did..." I turn on my heel to face the whole group. "You would not have ended up here." More than a few of them look shocked and angry at the accusation, but none stop. "I want you all to get out of the habit of thinking that you've done the best you could have done. That thought will only limit you and hold you back. As assassins, you must acknowledge that there are always things you can improve. There is always more effort you can put in. You can always be more clever than you were. It takes maturity to look at yourself with a critical eye and acknowledge this, and that is exactly what I expect from each and every one of you. Think only in terms of 'I got stronger' and 'I found a problem and fixed it.' Understood?"

"Yes sir!" They call out together.

I nod in satisfaction. Now they sound like they're motivated. "Good. Follow these instructions, and by the end of the year, you'll be more capable than you ever dreamed was possible. I'll make sure of that."

Indeed, so early on even I could not have dreamed of what they would eventually become capable of doing.