The process of actually signing up to be a samurai is more than a little weird. I'm actually kind of embarrassed that it took me a little while to figure out why. It's because it's meant to be done in two parts. One being the child enrolling, I'm actually about the right physical age to start training. Before training can start though, I'm measured and fitted for a student's uniform and tested extensively on my academic knowledge, just so they know how much work they have to do to get me up to speed.

I was concerned that I'd be significantly behind. As it turns out, the fact I can read and write and do basic math is already way more than they were expecting for a new student. That I can do math straight through calculus is more than they expect for graduates. My lack of any sort of detailed history, geographic, or political knowledge is fine, and the fact I can even point to the five major ninja countries, Uzu, and Iron on a map and label them correctly is way more than most can manage. I'll still have to take geography, politics, philosophy, and a few other classes, but by and large I've managed to skate through the academic requirements of being a samurai with the power of a twenty first century high school education.

The other part of the enrolment process is usually handled by the parents or other responsible adults of the trainee. The General is at least aware enough of what's going on that I only have to give him one withering look before he lets me handle that too. Mostly that means I get an outline of what is expected of the Daimyo's government in terms of their responsibilities towards me, and what my responsibilities will be to them in return.

In more detail, the Daimyo's government is to provide me with an academic education to the highest standards, teach me to fight with a variety of weapons, both on foot and on horseback, teach me logistics, tactics, strategy, if I've got a head for it, and command. And, of course, pay me. Because this is an actual military, I'm signing up to work with and be a professional soldier, which means we get a steady paycheck. In return, I'm to serve the Daimyo of Iron in his military.

Full stop.

That last almost causes problems as I demand an actual amount of time I'm required to give. Apparently, most never bother with that question. They sign on for life, more or less, and serve until they either fall or aren't physically capable any more. In fact, anything else is so uncommon they actually have to go and dig up the wording and requirements. As it turns out, I'm required to serve for half again the amount of time that it took to train me, to pay back both the time investment and other resources the Daimyo spent on me. It sounds pretty reasonable.

The catch?

Training a samurai typically takes ten years.

Signing on for this, the expectation is I'm promising twenty five years to the Daimyo. Ten years of training and fifteen years of service. Barring crippling injury or other unforeseen tragedy.

Apparently, there's the rare individual who manages the whole thing in eight, so only serves twelve years. Those people can be counted on the fingers of two hands though, with fingers left over.

The glint in my eye when Hayato mentions that must unnerve him slightly, because he swallows and pales visibly.

I guess I can understand that. Mostly because when he gives me the time commitment, all that runs through my head?

Challenge accepted.

###

The combat classes aren't exactly what I was expecting. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. The lessons take place in a large open room with a padded floor. Lots of windows make up the walls, except for the back one opposite the door which is occupied by riser seating. It honestly looks like the sort of space in which my early martial art lessons back in DxD might have happened. Right down to parents, siblings, and other observers occupying said risers.

All in all, it's a familiar environment, which makes it somewhat comforting.

What I don't like is that I apparently have observers, as well. Six of them.

The class isn't due to start for another few minutes, so I'm standing at the edge of the mats and just sort of observing things when I spot them. Saki is sitting at the top of the risers with a small group of other people, which almost makes me uncomfortable. Over the last couple of days as I've settled in, I've come to the conclusion that Saki doesn't like me very much. I'm not sure why, and she hasn't done anything overt about it, but she keeps looking at me like I'm a scorpion and she's just waiting for me to show my nature.

The people with her, though, are more comfortable to deal with, mostly because I only recognise two of them. Right next to Saki, and holding her hand absently, is a man a little bit older than her. He's dressed like a noble and seems to be more interested in discussing something with the boy sitting next to him than paying attention to anything else going on. That boy looks enough like him and Saki that he's got to be another of their children. He looks to be about sixteen or seventeen, and has the regular and refined features that would be called handsome. Next to Saki is seated another with significant family resemblance, a girl twelve years old or so and dressed like a samurai in training. Sitting in front of Saki and who I'm betting is her husband, are the twins I've met previously. The boy looks sullen, like he's pouting. Miku, on the other hand, is waving at me enthusiastically.

The moment Miku realizes I've seen her, she bounces up and down in her seat several times, then darts down the risers at a stumbling run. Honestly, the fact she never face plants is something of a miracle.

Saki for a moment looks like she's going to grab her daughter, or call her back. Except that the older girl next to her puts a hand on Saki's arm. They start having some discussion, but I'm distracted from it by Miku's arrival.

She scampers towards me with a big smile on her face, but when she gets close to me she skids to a halt suddenly looking shy. She tilts her face downward, twists back and forth, takes a strand of hair that had been pulled free of her hair buns and starts chewing on the end of it, while casting glances at me nervously.

I wonder if she's put in that hairstyle in an effort to keep her from chewing on her hair...

She's clearly not going to work up the nerve to actually approach me, so with an inaudible sigh I start forward. I would bitch about having to be the adult here, but given that of the two of us only one is actually five years old it seems obvious.

I walk up to her with a smile and bow slightly. "I'm glad to see you doing better. I'm Ericka Rhostana," I introduce myself.

Her face lights up with the same brilliant smile she'd had on her way over to me, "I-I-I-I'm Miku!" She has the small child stutter that comes from thinking faster than she can get her voice to work. "T-t-t-thank you for protecting me from Takuma!" She bows sharply, probably too deeply given our relative social positions, but just like with me and the Daimyo, her small-childness lets her get away with it.

"You're entirely welcome," I tell her with a smile, then frown, "though you really shouldn't need protection from your own brother."

The girl looks hesitant, but before she can speak, a hand is gently placed on her head. The older girl that had been sitting next to Saki and who is dressed as a student samurai, is standing behind Miku and smiling down at the two of us from her lofty twelve year old height. Saki herself is hovering a ways back, close enough to hear our conversation, but far enough to give us the illusion of privacy.

The older girl bows properly, "I am Mitsuko, eldest daughter and second born of Moriyama Ryuu and Saki Souji." I return the bow but Mitsuko isn't done talking yet, "And you're right, what Takuma was doing was unacceptable, and believe me, he has been reprimanded. So I would like to add my thanks to my little sister's."

"Ah..." I'm feeling a little more awkward now but I push past it easily enough, "Well, you're welcome. It's really none of my business, but that's not the sort of thing I can just watch happen."

"Nonsense!" Mitsuko says cheerfully, "You're one of us now." Behind her I can see Saki twitch slightly at that assertion.

"Nonetheless, I think I'll leave discipline to the parents," I tell her dryly.

This earns me another smile from the older girl, "Mom was right, you really don't act your age."

Does she know her mother is right behind her listening to this?

I shrug. "I'm older than I look," I tell her dryly. I see Saki's lips twitch into what I think was almost a smile before her expression goes back to slightly hostile neutral

"Really?" Mitsuko's smile turns wry, "Does that mean you can explain boys to me?"

I snort, "Not really. Relationships I might be able to help with, but I don't actually like boys, so I never put any effort into understanding them beyond as people."

I can see Mitsuko slowly putting together what my sentence implied. Both that I'm literally older than I look, and my sexuality is a less common one. Before she can work up a response though, Miku jumps back into the conversation.

"I don't like boys either!" she declares with a pouty frown. I can see Saki's eyes dart from me, to Miku, and back again before going wide with horror. I've seen a few samurai same sex couples around making no effort to hide, so that's not the problem… Oh, now that's just hurtful, I wouldn't be that bad a... "They're icky. Aya says they have cooties." Never mind, Saki's relief is almost palpable.

Partially, I'm confused that 'cooties' is even a term here. Partially, I'm certain that there's going to come a day many years from now, when Miku will be reminded of this conversation and then spontaneously combust.

Mostly, I'm just proud that I manage to avoid laughing at the look on Saki's face.

###

"We have a new student joining us," Takeshi says, addressing the large group of five to seven year olds sitting before him in seiza on the mat. "Before we can place her with an appropriate sparing group, we have to know where she stands." Why is he explaining this to...

I get it, I'm about to do the samurai equivalent of standing up in front of the class to introduce myself. Only instead of an awkward speech about where I come from and my likes and dislikes, we're going to hit each other with sticks.

Great.

Takeshi beckons me forward, and with more than a little reluctance I obey. I stand and walk to the indicated spot, and then take the offered shinai. I'm a little surprised to see the light bamboo practice weapon. They were a relatively recent development on earth, but for five to seven year olds who can't really handle anything with any actual weight to it just yet, it's perfect for doing as much safe swording as possible.

"Your opponent will be..." It's not him? "Kade." Another boy hops to his feet and takes the second shinai.

I give Takeshi a look, with which I try to convey that this is a waste of both my and his time, and he knows that. From the blank look I get back either he disagrees, or my ability with expression based telepathy is insufficient for the task.

My opponent, Kade, takes a basic two handed stance opposite me. Both hands on the weapon, it's tip pointed directly at my face, his feet shoulder width apart and set at forty five degrees off from each other. After looking himself over once to make sure he has everything in the right place, he settles in to wait for the starting signal.

With a last sigh of reluctance, I assume the same stance and examine Kade. He looks to be about my physical age, so five, six years old at the most. He's still in the lowest, most basic sword class, the fact that I'm in that class as well earns Takeshi a glare, so at the very best he has less than twelve months of training. Probably less given how stiff his stance is, and how he had to check his feet to make sure they're in the right place.

So, a normal five year old with at most, a few months of training.

This isn't even funny.

"Begin!" Takeshi shouts sharply.

I don't so much as twitch. Kade on the other hand tenses up even further. After only a few seconds, which probably feels a whole lot longer to Kade, the boy pulls back his sword and rushes at me.

It's... well he's obviously a beginner, so I'm not going to comment. His headlong rush has him completely unbalanced, his sword is back over his shoulder so he's leading with his face, and my sword is still pointed right at him.

Maybe he's newer than I thought?

Still, the moment he's in range, just as he's starting his own swing, I reach forward and bop him on the head with my shinai, then quickly slide out of the way, as he doesn't stop his charge or his swing.

"Stop!" Takeshi ends the match moments later. "Kade, you led with your face, not your sword. We will practice your footwork more so you don't trip when you charge. Lastly, always move your opponent's sword out of the way before you run onto it." Kade bowed without a word, but his expression is thoughtful as he returns to his seat. "Sakura."

A girl stands next, one of the older ones of the group, and takes the same stance that Kade had used with far more comfort. I glare at Takeshi harder, then take my own stance again.

Sakura has about a head of height on me, with proportionally longer arms and legs. Fortunately, no pink hair. She's clearly been at this longer than my last opponent, but still probably no more than a year. There's not really a lot more to pick up from her.

"Begin!"

The moment Takeshi begins the match she lunges forward into range. Once she arrives she reestablishes her stance and swings a short, sharp diagonal cut at my neck. I avoid it by basically using a boxing slip to get under it. At the same time, I let go of my shinai with my left hand and thrust with my right, planting the padded tip of my weapon into Sakura's chest hard enough to stagger her backwards.

"Stop!" I straighten up and step back, and Sakura glares at me slightly while rubbing where I stabbed her. "Sakura, you did good. Just remember to strike with your steps, your top and bottom halves should move together. Not one then the other."

"Yes, teacher," she murmurs, before glaring at me sullenly again and taking her seat.

For my part, I'm looking at Takeshi again, and when he glances in my direction again I raise an eyebrow. Takeshi huffs quietly, "This is what I get for not listening."

I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to hear that.

Without another word the instructor takes up the shinai, and sets himself across from me.

Okay, then. Apparently we're doing this now.

I eye Takeshi carefully. The man has me beat in size and reach. Probably speed and strength as well, since I doubt he can't use chakra enhancement techniques. Though, like with Mifune, he doesn't outclass me by as much as he should. Unlike Mifune though, my strength and speed probably won't take him by surprise. His stance is relaxed and casual, the 'back' of his shinai resting against this shoulder and both of his hands on the hilt, left foot forward. His expression is serene, but from what Granny told me and what I've seen of him when not about to fight, he's an angry person in general. He's got a chip on his shoulder and took up the sword specifically to vent. His style will most likely be aggressive, and mostly attack. That being said, he's the chief sword instructor for the most sword obsessed military in the known world. If he hasn't mastered a dozen different styles just to teach them effectively I'll eat... something inedible. Point is that he's not going to be limited to just his preferred style. So I should expect some decidedly out of character tricks from him at the most inconvenient moments for me.

So this should be fun.

"Mom," the young voice from the risers causes us both to glance in that direction. Takuma, Saki's youngest son, is tugging his mother's sleeve, looking very determined, "I wanna do that." He's pointing at me?

Oh, wow, Saki looks unhappy about that idea.

Takeshi and I glance back at each other and for a moment there's a spark of shared humor at Saki's parental suffering. Then we refocus on what's about to happen between the two of us.

A moment of stillness, then the fun begins.

###

I'm humming to myself as I find my way back to the Library. It's easy enough to find, wearing my student uniform any guard was happy enough to point me in the right direction. The sword class left me in a remarkably good mood for how much it frustrated me going in. The duel with Takeshi was fun. Much like I had with Mifune, I'd won the first exchange, and lost after that. The physical difference was just too much to overcome without the aid of surprise. The results of the duel afterwards was also gratifying.

Simply put, Takeshi declared that I was excused from the sword specific training, since he'd decided that there really wasn't much for him to teach me. Instead I'm being given the time when I would normally be learning sword basics to browse the Library and pick more advanced skills to learn.

Which isn't to say that I'm getting out of combat training all together. I still need to learn to use a bow and a spear, which apparently are requirements for samurai, and then learn to use all of them and the sword from horseback. I'll also be attending the unarmed classes, just because I'm curious and it should be a very different style than I've been exposed to before. What I do during chakra manipulation classes is also yet to be determined, since I don't have any.

My current visit to the library will hopefully help settle that issue to some extent, and start helping to address the strength and speed imbalance that I'm dealing with. Back in DxD, my efforts to learn the physical enhancement skills that sages normally learn were stymied by the fact that by the time that I started trying to learn them, I'd already picked up my vampire energy network. That structure was not something that people normally have and made moving energy around the body, like sage enhancement required, the next best thing to impossible. It didn't help that vampires didn't really have any methods of active enhancement of their own. They just waited and got it done.

Here in the elemental nations though, everybody has an internal energy network. Not exactly like mine, but enough similarities are there that I'm hopeful that I can make local methods of active enhancement work for me. So here I am to pick up instructions on how to perform the samurai style of physical boosting, and while I'm at it, samurai chakra control exercises. Even if mana and chakra aren't the same thing, which I'm beginning to suspect they aren't, internal energy control is internal energy control. If I were in a ninja village I wouldn't be so sure about that, but samurai are all about moving the energy around internally, and through their swords. Hopefully they'll be close enough for me to at least get ideas for what to do, even if they don't help directly.

Guards in the same four places as my first visit wait for me at the doors. My uniform lets me approach, at which point there's a series of tests performed by a seal on the floor in front of the doors that had been invisible until it started to make sure that I'm who and what I say and appear to be.

Which is a neat trick, the ability of seals to disappear until needed. Note to self, figure out how to make my Script do the same thing. If I can do that for my tattoos it'll make my life a lot easier. Sure, it wouldn't attract much attention here, and didn't really get me more than some odd looks in DxD, but it would be a lot subtler.

The guards, satisfied with whatever the seal had told them, wave me through into the Library lobby. I'm a little surprised to find the lobby somewhat more crowded than it had been when Hayato had led me through here. There are five men dressed in samurai black being loud and boisterous with each other. Enough so that the couple of librarians stationed at the front desk are glaring at them, not that the five young men seem to care.

What's interesting is that the samurai all have a patch stitched onto the left breast of their shirts. It looks like a mon, a Japanese coat of arms essentially. While I in no way have the mon of the noble houses of Iron memorized, I do know that what they're wearing isn't the Daimyo's.

"Hey, look at what we've got here." Of course, this is the moment that one of them spots me watching them. They look to be in their mid to late teens, the age of recent samurai graduates.

And looking at them, I think I misjudged Mifune's age in my first assessment of him by quite a bit.

The five of them swagger in my direction, quickly surrounding me. My ears keep track of the ones behind me while I glare up at the one in front.

The spokesman, who I shall henceforth think of as asshole one, grins down at me.

I hate being short.

"What's a little girl like you doing here? This is a place for samurai," he tells me condescendingly.

"Look at what she's wearing" the guy to asshole one's right, whom I shall dub asshole two, says.

"It looks like a cadet's uniform. Are you trying to be a samurai, little girl?" he reaches forward towards my shirt, and I slap his hand away.

He doesn't seem to like that.

"Watch it, you little bitch. Commoner scum doesn't deserve to be samurai." Oh great, a bigot. "In fact, it's probably better that you just quit," he's invading my personal space trying to be intimidating. I'm not feeling intimidated, but I am struggling to keep my wings from manifesting and mantling. It would make me look bigger, but would also cause more problems than I really want to deal with right now.

"I bet she's just pretending to be a cadet," newly dubbed asshole three says with a grin. He clearly knows that it's not true, but when has that made any difference to bullies?

"Look," I say flatly, "I'm sure all your dicks are very big, which is of course why you're waving them around in front of little girls. Now that we've established that, we can go our separate ways and pretend that none of this ever happened."

Asshole one grabs my collar. "I bet you are faking," he growls.

Which has nothing on my growl as my voice begins gaining extra tones, "Let go of me, right now." If this turns into a fight, I'm launching asshole one straight into the roof. I don't know about the rest of them yet, but this guy is going straight up.

"What noble family would take you..."

"Mine," a cool female voice says from right behind me, past the two as yet unnumbered assholes. Whoever they are they must have just come into the Library. All of us turn as one, and the two unnumbered assholes stiffen and bow, followed moments later by assholes one, two, and three behind me.

I'm probably more surprised than the three of them put together. I had been under the impression that Saki didn't like me.

"Lady Ryuu, we didn't know..." asshole one tries to cover his... ass...

I wonder if it means something that these assholes address her with her husband's name, while Saki and her kids tend to introduce themselves with Granny's name?

Thoughts for later.

"Clearly," Saki says with a notable amount of frost in her voice, "That however makes little difference to me. Miss Rhostana has been sponsored by my family, and my brother is already very complimentary about her skills with a sword. Which makes her more of a samurai than you, Mr Fujiwara. Perhaps your time would be better spent shoring up those lacking skills." Asshole one starts to say something but Saki talks right over him without ever raising her voice, "If that fails to fill your time, I'm sure I can recommend you for an assignment fitting your skills. I hear that the far north watchtower is always in need of people to stand the post."

Asshole one shivers. Under his breath he snarls at me, "This is your fault you..."

"Mr Fujiwara," Saki snaps, "apologies should not be whispered."

There's a beat of tense silence, then, "My. Apologies. Miss." Wow, that sounded like it actually physically hurt him, "I spoke without knowledge."

Saki sniffs disdainfully, "Good enough, I suppose." She steps to one side and waves at the door behind her, "Now if you have no actual need for the library, perhaps you should leave it to those who do."

Without another word the five assholes flee from the Library and Saki's presence. I'm actually kind of impressed.

A few breaths later Saki and I are alone with the librarians. Saki stares at me for long moments. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but instead closes it with a click, turns, and leaves at a speed that can just barely not be called fleeing.

Oookaaay...

You know what, I'm just going to pick up my books and head back to my room.

Maybe people will be less exhausting tomorrow.

###

Sitting comfortably in my room, I breathe in and out slowly, sinking into a meditative trance with literally lifetimes of practice. Then, when I've reached the right mental state, I inhale again, and with the air, mana floods my lungs. Mana breathing properly is a radically different experience from using my pressure Script. It feels natural, good even in a way that the Script just didn't match. My mana senses are so much better now, even when I'm not connected to the world.

Really, I should have spent more time trying to figure out how to overcome my issues back in DxD. On the other hand, the things that let me overcome it only happened when I got to the Elemental Nations. First, being exposed to the mana of the world, feeling it burn my soul, left me sensitive to it in a way that I couldn't imagine being before. I can feel it now constantly, a sensation in the background of my life, that confers no information. Or if it does, I haven't figured out how to interpret it yet.

The second key to my finally getting mana breathing working, was desperation. I had started taking in mana almost immediately upon arrival, but it was unreliable, not something I could control. Which led to the very real possibility of starving to death in the womb.

Much like a hanging, starvation focuses the mind wonderfully.

Sure, it wasn't all positive. Taking in mana actually takes effort now, focus. And it takes somewhat longer without the mana being driven into me, but the results are well worth it. I'm sure I'll still find use for the pressure Script every so often, but in general this is much better.

Having filled up on mana, I let myself rise out of the trance. I'd spent the last several hours going through the books on chakra control and trying to adapt them to mana. The results were... mixed.

Though not in the way I normally use that description.

I found moving mana through my now chakra coil boosted network... easy. Too easy. So easy that I'm almost certain that I'm doing something wrong. The mana inside my network flows where I direct it, and away from where I don't want it, with a greater ease than I've ever experienced before. I can even get it out of my body easily. Though my control once it's more than a millimeter from my skin is non-existent. Which is something I'll have to work on, but it'll have to be later, if for no other reason than samurai concern themselves with chakra inside their bodies, and inside their swords. They don't really have much in the way of improving control outside of that.

For now, though, I'm ready to move on to my next project. Physical enhancement and reinforcement. It's not something I can really test in my room though.

The sun had gone down a while ago and officially I, as a samurai in training, am not supposed to go wandering around the palace by myself.

My general thought is that it only matters if I get caught.

So I slip out of my room and do my best to sneak towards the training halls. There are several of them, though I've only seen the one used for my testing earlier in the day. Fortunately for me, all the training halls are in roughly the same place.

I make it to the correct area without any trouble and start checking doorways for the sort of training space that I'm looking for. On my third try I find... not exactly what I'm looking for, but close enough to work. The room I've found is divided up into many individual work areas, each centered around wooden posts that are anchored in both the ceiling and the floor.

Ku called these sorts of things pells. I have no idea what the samurai might call them. But they're basically there to practice cuts on while using practice swords. Or put more simply, they're there to get beat on. Which is exactly what I need.

I take a moment to make sure the door is closed behind me and head to the closest pell. My first step is to establish a baseline. So standing in front of my chosen target, I take up a simple boxing stance, and throw a straight into the wooden pole as hard as I can.

I hiss slightly as I pull back my knuckles to see a bit of blood left left on two indents on the post. Indents that perfectly match my knuckles. I can already feel the wounds burning away.

Right.

A quick nod, and I set myself again. Now the point of all of this, physical enhancement samurai style. Mana fills my network, as close to completely full as I can make it. Then I throw another straight just as hard as I can, only this time I flex my mana in my network trying to match it to the movement my muscles are producing. The movement of my mana lends extra force to what my muscles produce.

Or at least that's the idea.

What I actually do... is rough. Okay, it's more like the basic mistakes I saw earlier in sword class. I need my mana to move together with my more physical body, not one then the other. Really it makes sense, in this I am a beginner. Which means that the only thing I can do is practice until I make it work.

I very carefully don't consider what I'll do if mana is so different from chakra that once again the local methods just won't work for me.

I spend hours just punching that post.

Well, not just that post. With just muscle power I'm strong enough to do some damage to the posts with repeated impact, so I switch every so often.

Unfortunately, my progress inflicting property damage to the posts is the only progress I seem to be making. It's more than a little frustrating.

Really frustrating.

Enough so that my control is beginning to slip.

I should really call it a night, I've been here for hours.

The sun will come up soon.

It's just...

GOD DAMNIT!

...

Now isn't that interesting.

In my moment of temper I lost some control over the mana in my network, and instead of just flexing my mana to help move my limbs, I... pulsed it. For just a few seconds mana flooded out of my network and filled my muscles with power, and when my fist hit the pell...

Well, the four by four of hardwood snapped.

It took a huge amount of mana. Not enough to drain me, but enough that the technique would only be viable with my artifacts back for anything long term. I'd need a constant influx of mana to keep that kind of enhancement up.

At least for the moment.

What I'd done was incredibly rough. Not well timed with my physical motions. No control over how much mana was expended or where.

It's proof of concept, but not much else.

I yawn, the night of punching catching up with me.

Tomorrow is going to suck, but at least I have time to refill on mana before I have to get through the next day.

Really, this deal getting me into the Library has already proven it's worth.

I can't wait to see what other goodies they've got for me.

Right now though, I should probably move away from the shattered pell before somebody finds me here with it. Supernatural beauty or not, no way I'm cute enough to get away with this.