The interface disappeared upon signatory approval. Hirotada laid his hands onto the table and listened to Akiko's worries with a calm understanding. In her, he recognized the anxieties of his youth -- old fears and demons he fought to banish his entire life. And while he understood, he wouldn't encourage or accommodate them. For that way lies ruin. His demeanor changed to become more stern, as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes into a long blink.
"This uncertainty is unbecoming of a Dragon." He stated bluntly and paused, getting up from his chair, walking back to the position she found him in earlier, to the one-way mirror overlooking the station hangar.
"A task was delegated to you. A responsibility was passed on, and accepted." He turned back around to where Akiko was seated. "And in coming here, you've imposed a part of this responsibility on me. We are both honor-bound to complete it. I am obligated to provide the lessons, and tools to enable it. And you, to accept, receive them -- and succeed."
"There is no more room for doubt and anxiety. You are not expected to kill anyone or anything; Except for all those limitations that hold you back. We will make it so. We will show you how."
He caught himself entering endless monologue. An old habit he worked hard to suppress. He straightened his suit and took another breath.
"But before you begin; I will need a resounding yes. A true commitment without uncertainty. Nothing less will do."
Once again, she took a moment to breath in, and out.
"I understand Daimyo. I am willing to learn, and do what is necessary. I will follow your instructions."
Akiko wasn't being entirely honest in her agreement, her heart and mind was still riddled with doubt and uncertainty, but she feared showing weakness or lack of resolve even more. As she thought on what she'd just said, her mind suddenly returned to the offer she had for the good Daimyo, and whether he could be trusted with her offer and secrets. Only time would tell for that however.
Though not entirely convinced of the sincerity, Hirotada was pleased. A false word can often do the work of truth in time. Saying to oneself that you are sick can often make you sick. And saying that you are healed, can inexplicably rejuvenate you. He nodded approvingly. The familiar drone from before floated into the office and made an enthusiastic beep, taking two circles around the Daimyo, and then Akiko before settling in a corner. Hirotada walked back to his chair and took a seat.
"Excellent." He offered a half-smile. "You should retire to the quarters I arranged for you, for now. I believe you may be tired after your trip. Mitsubachi will escort you."
The drone, "Mitsubachi", did a back-flip and floated over to the door, waiting for its guest to follow it. It's middle ring glowed a bright yellow.
Akiko got up without a word and turned to the Daimyo before her. She gave nothing more than a simple and thankful bow, before turning to the drone that patiently waited for her to follow. A moment before she stepped through the door out of the office, she turned back to Daimyo Watanabe with a simple question.
"May I retrieve something from my ship? My datapad, it's a rather important thing to me."
Her voice was far more sincere sounding then her former agreement, yet that was no doubt because of how much she valued that little piece of hardware.
Hirotada seemed to have zoned out as soon as she went for the door. His eyes unfocused but fixated on one of the paintings, and he didn't respond for several seconds after the question. Coming to, his eyes darted to Akiko.
"Naturally. Your movement is not restricted." A small pause. "Good night."
Though he was alert and invigorated earlier, he seemed, in a way troubled and scattered all of a sudden. Unseen and unmentioned troubles weighed on his mind and he seemed eager to regain privacy; Then presumably, take a rest himself.
Akiko gave one last bow before making her exit; not that he saw it with his back turned. She began making her way back down to the hanger, the zippy little drone following alongside in preparation for it's escort duty. For every second she marched forwards, back towards the hanger, she could feel her own heartbeat; feel each and every breath. Her nerves hadn't really calmed down and Hirotada's entire demeanour didn't do many wonders for it. She wasn't really doing much to conceal it anymore.
Once they reached her trusty Stutinga, Akiko calmly instructed the drone to wait while she fetched it - she too wanted to retain some semblance of privacy. She didn't bother to turn on the lights in her ship so it was a tiny walk through a very atmospheric ship interior. Dim lighting from the hanger crept in giving the ship a nice warm interior glow. It was a very relaxing light, reminiscent of sunset on Planet New Tokyo.
It would be too difficult to go and fetch the datapad, it was located on the dashboard of her ship, in the cockpit. It was often left here of all places as she'd simply forget she was reading or writing to it before taking off - being forgetful was almost a trademark trait at this point. The moment it was back in her hands however, it was like a huge weight was lifted. This pad might as well have been an emotional support animal with the amount of attachment Akiko had towards it. It calmed her.
After what must have been no more than a minute, Akiko emerged from the side of the ship out into the hanger. Just as when she arrived, there was a drone hovering just outside. The difference is this time no words were required. It simply pulsed a tint of yellow, before proceeding to head down the corridors. Akiko silently followed. One hand carried the datapad close to her chest, the other hand loose down by her side. It wasn't to be a long work, but it was a peaceful one while it lasted.
Before long the drone stopped and pulsated a warm green light. Directly before it, a door that opened to Akiko. It was rather evident that this was to be her accommodation. The moment Akiko was fully through the doorway the drone zipped off once more, the door shutting firmly behind it. The walls were beautiful. They were lined with stunning traditional Kusarian artwork, with intricate patterns filling the gaps. It somewhat reminded her of her apartment back on New Tokyo, but far more lavish to be sure. It was rather spacious and had pretty much everything one would need, and the bed was of a reasonable size, soft too.
It was the bed that kept her attention though. Akiko clambered into it without much hesitation, shedding her outfit at a rather high speed. While the day hadn't been that long or eventful, she felt unnaturally tired and drained. It wasn't long before she simply lay there underneath the comfortable covers staring at the artsy ceiling. It was nice to set the mood, that was for sure. Before she was going to sleep, however, there was something that had to be recorded; as part of her promise. She started the log recording.
"Title: Second Thoughts.
Day one begins tomorrow. I am worried, should I be honest. This place feels so daunting and out of place for me. Just looking around at the organised nature of everyone and precision at which they all work - I don't think I could stick out more. Being here represents something to me. It represents the responsibility I've been given and taken. It's represents the commitment I've made. And yet most importantly, it represents my fear of others.
I fear that I wont be able to live up to their expectations and that I will bring disappointment to the Shogun that assigned me to this task. Deep down, I know I am not a Dragon. I am not welcome here, or at least I shouldn't be. I remember way back when I first joined. They preached how the past meant nothing. We were all brothers and sisters, no matter the situation. It felt like idealism mixed in with tradition and culture.
I am thankful for the opportunities I am being given... it's just... it's not something I of all people should really be receiving. Damn. I wish you were here, I could use the advice. I think I will be fine with the basic training, at least if my conditions don't get in the way. It's more the... offensive and defensive lessons that scare me. Once involving people, harming others. That is not something I should do... I shouldn't.
What would you do? I need guidance, but I have nowhere to get it. Everyone here and everywhere would say the same thing. Something about long live the Dragons or about serving as honour dictates. *Sigh* I think I am overthinking this... again. I should get my training and make my offer, if all goes well. If it doesn't... I might have to seek out Kijima. I just want things to go right.
End log."
She could feel her own sadness, once again she'd worked herself up over nothing; not even talking about anything the log was meant to entail. Looking in the reflection of her datapad, her heterochromic eyes glistened. The lighting of the room really brought them out with a unnatural emphasis. However, it was short lived as, before long she turned off the lights in lieu of sleep.
Beyond an almost maze-like arrangement of rooms and corridors, separated from the rest of the station with a double door - was the Watanabe family dojo. Decorated in a highly archaic and traditional style, it was a stark contrast to the station's overall high-tech arrangement and style. The dojo was likewise inordinately large compared to the rest of the station's sections and rooms, implying a great importance to the current administration. The chamber was already tightly packed for today's session. The pupils were organized into three groups, kneeling with their backs aligned to the walls, and facing the teacher. Behind the first group, the wall was painted with an intricate mural of a stormy sea. Behind the second, an abstract image evocative of royal guards in front of a palace. Behind the final group, a painting of an endless and serene night illuminated only by a starry sky. The teacher was sitting in the center, practicing the lotus position over a golden dragon emblem on the floor, as he usually would. But unlike the usual protocol, today he was joined by the Daimyo himself, who was seated next to him, in an identical position.
After a few minutes of meditative silence, they both bowed towards the students. The students followed the gesture in unison. The two teachers rose from the ground in one fluid motion, now standing fully upright. Fixing their kimonos for a second, they turned towards each other and bowed deeply and respectfully, then transitioned from the bow into stances. The dojo master with his standard, shallow-standing stance, and the Daimyo with his own unique, more upright stance. They lounged at each other, exchanging and parrying blows, grappling for several seconds. The Daimyo was the first to take the fall with a loud thud, as his legs were swept from under him. The dojo master helped him to his feet and they returned to their postures, for another round. This time, Hirotada started more defensively, tiring the master out, before unleashing a series of quick blows and knocking him down with an open palm punch. The master laid down for a few seconds, then jumped back to his feet. They both bowed to each other, and then to the students. A gong was sounded as they finished their bows - a signal to everyone to find a partner and begin the sparring session.
Contrary to her expectations, there was no rude awakening or alarm call. Akiko awoke slowly as the room brightened. It appears that the lights were programmed to light up extremely slowly, in perfect synchronisation of the New Tokyo sun rising over the planet surface. A small touch, but a nice one. As the new day dawned, she quickly remembered where she was, snapping out of her drowsy, trance-like, state. Honshu. Hikone.
Akiko took a few minutes preparing herself for the day, getting dressed and adjusting her hair. She dawdled slightly, deciding to play around with her datapad and view the status on the Kishiro robots working on her little project; she liked to see the reports change day by day. Only once she was fully ready and about to leave her chambers, did she notice the digital note displaying from the monitor beside the door. It was a simple yet effective means of relaying information, but Akiko had absentmindedly missed it entirely.
"Miku-San, please report to the Dojo when you are ready to begin."
The note was short and to the point. It appeared to have been posted several hours prior, and it was only then she realised how much she'd slept in. A quick feeling of panic overcame her as she feared of appearing disrespectful. It was unlikely this was going to be like her stay at her apartment on New Tokyo, where she would be used to being her lazy self. In any case, Akiko made a quick mental note of the route to the Dojo from the notice, before leaving her room and making her way there.
It didn't take long to arrive. The Dojo was one of the most beautiful location Akiko had ever observed on a station. It was traditional in every sense of the word and practically radiated the Kusarian culture. It was after a moment of observation that she'd noticed what she'd wandered into.
The class was already in session, and many of the pupils were sparing with one another. Some momentarily stopped to look back at their onlooker, while others simply glossed over the anomaly and returned to their practice. Akiko's unique appearance wasn't really helping her here. Between the discoloured eyes and the overall non-Kusarian appearance, she stood out a lot more than she wanted to. It wouldn't be the first time she'd been confused for a gaijin.
Now fully upright, Hirotada regarded Akiko for several long moments without speaking or making a move, his stoic presence reminiscent of a statue. Not breaking his gaze towards her, he tilted his chin upwards and extended his hand towards her. A signal for her to get close to him. As she approached, he took the time to consider his further approach. He had personally trained several, and indirectly an innumerable amount of pupils; And learned that what they all have in common - is that they are all fundamentally different. As she got close, he returned to the lotus position on the ground, and signaled her to do the same, right next to his left side.
"For this first class; I thought you might observe." He inclined his head slightly towards her, speaking in a hushed tone. "That is, unless you prefer to find a partner and start right away..." He observed her out the corner of his eye, trying to gauge the provoked reaction.
Akiko slightly froze at the thought, taking a moment to look among the crowd of pupils preparing themselves. It was evidently obvious that they were all far beyond her skill, but that really isn't saying much given she's never even been in a fight before. Akiko didn't look back at the patient Daimyo for a good few seconds while she observed the students some more.
"I fear that your other pupils would put me to shame, Daimyo. If you can believe it, I'm never as so much thrown a punch at someone. I have no knowledge of technique or anything really. I don't want to disappoint you."
She tried to sound somewhat humble in her confession, but she was deeply afraid of disappointing her to-be teacher. Her reaction did somewhat give away how she was really feeling, despite her best attempts to hide it.
Living in Kusari all her life helps a lot with understanding the customs of the nation, but the Blood Dragons, overall, appear to be far more traditionalist and, by extension, alien. Her unique appearance, didn't help matters much; it just added to her nerves, she didn't need to be judged.
