Teaching the Defenseless

Mission Details:

Alu stood at the front of the makeshift dojo, one that he had taken over as it had been abandoned by a prior owner some time ago, his lean frame silhouetted against the warm amber glow of hanging lanterns. His red trench coat swirled lightly around his ankles, catching the crowd's attention like moths drawn to a flame. A subtle smirk played at his lips as he adjusted the yellow-orange tinted sunglasses perched on his nose. Beneath their faint sheen, his crimson eyes gleamed with the peculiar mix of charm and menace that had always set him apart.

Teaching a self-defense class to the public had not been his first choice of missions. Missing-ninjas were usually requested for tasks that played more to their reputations: espionage, sabotage, or the occasional assassination. But when he read about this request upon wandering into the town, Alu's curiosity stirred. He was intrigued by the idea of guiding a group of everyday people through the basics of combat, witnessing their transformation from unsure and uneasy sheep to confident and ready defendants.

Freedom, after all, was not just about the ability to wander. It was about ensuring others could live unshackled by fear.

The crowd was larger than he'd thought it would be, a mix of villagers, merchants, and travelers. Word had spread quickly, mainly since this was a small town with nothing better going on since the harvest had been taken care of and any new visitor willing to showcase their skills piqued the country folks’ interest quite well.

"Alright," Alu began, his voice smooth but commanding. He clapped his gloved hands together, the faint markings on the white leather catching the light and drawing curious glances. "First things first. Defense isn't about brute strength or flashy moves. It's about awareness, adaptability, and control. You don't need to be the strongest person in the room. You need to be the smartest."

He let his words hang in the air momentarily, scanning the group with his piercing gaze. A few shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, but most leaned forward, eager to hear more.

"We'll start with something simple. Punching." Alu strode to the center of the room, the soles of his boots whispering against the wooden floor. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing forearms corded with wiry muscles. "Not the kind you see in tavern brawls—wild, swinging nonsense that leaves you open to counters. No, we're talking precision. Economy of motion." As he listened, there were some snickers as a town like this had seen its score of drunken brawls from the locals at the tavern down the street. There was even some nudging as people called out the other subtly.

He slid into a stance, feet shoulder-width apart, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet. He raised his fists, knuckles angled slightly downward and demonstrated a quick, sharp jab. The motion was fluid, precise, and landed with a satisfying crack against the padded training dummy he'd brought.

"Now, your turn," he said, gesturing to the crowd.

A young man in a blacksmith's apron stepped forward hesitantly. Alu adjusted the man's stance, nudging his elbows into position and aligning his shoulders. "Relax. If you're too stiff, you'll burn out before you even land a hit. Feel the movement, let it flow. Think of how you must be fluid when swinging your hammer against the metal." Alu said as he gained a smile from the nervous man.

The man's first punch was awkward, but with Alu's patient guidance, it became sharper and more deliberate.

"Good," Alu said, clapping him on the back. "Now imagine someone twice your size coming at you with a knife. That punch will give you time to think about your next move."

Over the next hour, Alu guided the group through the fundamentals: punches, kicks, and blocks. His instructions were clear and precise, but his teaching had an underlying energy, a sense of enjoyment that shone through as he demonstrated a spinning kick or a swift dodge. His trench coat flared dramatically with each movement, and his red eyes sparkled as he corrected stances and praised improvements.

"Remember," he said, demonstrating a block that transitioned into a counter, "your goal isn't just to defend. It's to create openings. Every move your opponent makes is an opportunity. Find it, seize it, and make it count." Alu said as he demonstrated more blocks, “Each move should be one that gives you chance.”

As the session wore on, Alu noticed a transformation in his students. The hesitance that had marked their earlier movements was replaced with determination. They struck the training dummies with growing confidence, their punches and kicks echoing through the dojo like the rhythm of an advancing army.

By the time he introduced basic weapon handling—using simple wooden staffs he'd borrowed from a local carpenter, friend to the young man from earlier—the crowd was buzzing with excitement. Alu demonstrated a flowing sequence of blocks and strikes, his movements almost hypnotic in their precision. The red coat and sunglasses only added to the theatricality, earning him scattered applause.

"Alright," he said, flipping the staff before planting it firmly on the ground. "That's enough for tonight. You've all done well. Take what you've learned and practice. Defending yourself isn't just about techniques. It's about mindset. Confidence. Resilience. And above all, survival."

The crowd erupted into cheers, and a few of the braver students approached him to thank him personally. Alu accepted their gratitude with a modest smile, though inwardly, he felt a flicker of pride. This had been more than a mission. It had been a rare moment where he'd stepped out of the shadows and used his skills to uplift rather than destroy, though he also viewed it as another way of gaining access to the very prey he needed to survive.

As the crowd dispersed, Alu lingered in the empty dojo, gazing at the training dummies and scattered staffs. The room was quiet now, save for the faint rustle of his coat as he moved. He removed his sunglasses, letting the crimson glow of his eyes shine unfiltered in the dim light. His thoughts turned inward, reflecting on the day.

The instincts of his clan, the hunger that lurked beneath his polished exterior, had always made him an outsider. This drove him to a life of wandering, a search for meaning in a world that often saw him as a monster. Yet here, in this simple act of teaching, he had found a sliver of purpose.

"Not bad," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Not bad at all."

With a final glance at the dojo, Alu adjusted his trench coat, slipped on his sunglasses, and strode into the night. The world awaited, vast and untamed, and so did the next adventure. But for now, he carried with him the satisfaction of having made a difference, however small, in the lives of those who had come to learn.

The road called to him, as it always did. But tonight, for once, it felt less like an escape and more like a journey worth continuing.

[Exit]

WC: 1191
Claims: 
+2000 Ryo, +10 AP
Using 1100 WC to train purely AP at a rate of 4 AP per 100 WC:
+44 AP

Alu wrote:[Exit]

WC: 1191
Claims: 
+2000 Ryo, +10 AP
Using 1100 WC to train purely AP at a rate of 4 AP per 100 WC:
+44 AP

Approved