As usual, the issue lay with the women—more specifically, the warriors.
After all, what had they seen before, living their whole lives on this little island? What prospects had they ever had? Marry the local fisherman, some farmer from the nearby coast, or, at absolute best, a passing merchant. And not some wealthy shipowner commanding a grand galleon, either—more likely some minor nobody on a half-rotten skiff. That was the extent of their horizons.
And those "village louts" had probably been the only men these girls had ever really known.
No, I'm not saying all the men there were ugly (though who knows—I'm hardly an expert in judging male attractiveness), flabby, or anything like that. But compared to well-trained island soldiers in proper uniforms, with real swords at their belts, unusual looks, and a couple of gripping heroic stories to tell… they simply couldn't compete.
And of course, my earlier lecture about proper conduct during a diplomatic visit also played no small part. I don't know how often visitors from the mainland came here, but somehow I doubted they were usually motivated toward good behavior in quite the same terms. And that, incidentally, created a contrast. A vivid one—hard to forget.
Which bright mind first came up with the idea of holding "joint training sessions for the exchange of experience" was hard to say. I may have gently nudged a dozen of the boys toward the idea myself, but the effort had absolutely been worth it.
The very first "friendly sparring session" took place that same evening, and it had quite the educational effect on my sailors, who had been puffing up their chests a little too much.
At the very least, the memory of their stunned expressions—when a pretty girl half a head shorter sent some "strong and mighty warrior" flying with a clever throw or dropped him with a rapid series of strikes to pressure points—would warm my dark soul on many a long winter night.
Still, credit where it's due: after watching the first batch of "test pilots," the boys got a lot more serious and began treating the charming ladies not as ladies, but as full-fledged soldiers. No, nobody was hitting the girls at full force, of course. But neither was anyone foolish enough to let them get within throwing distance anymore.
"Yeah, our girls were definitely lacking this kind of practice," Suki said with satisfaction—and a hint of excitement—as she watched another valkyrie dart around a Fire Nation soldier who was trying to fend her off.
Oh, that was Petty Officer Ramis, by the way. Judging by his focused expression and the beads of sweat on his forehead, such a nimble opponent was giving him all kinds of trouble.
Well, heh-heh, let him practice. It'll do him good.
"My men will benefit from facing such an unusual opponent as well. And some of your techniques are quite effective—especially in the confined spaces of shipboard combat," I said, taking a sip of wine I'd had brought from the ship. Following my example, the squad mom took a couple of sips as well.
"Aha! So you are spying on us, trying to steal our martial arts!" the girl laughed. The relaxed atmosphere of the evening—and a bit of alcohol—had helped her loosen up and start seeing me as a peer, a fellow warrior, rather than a terrifying captain of terrifying Fire Nation soldiers.
"Mmm. And the possibility that I just enjoy watching pretty girls wipe the floor with my slackers—that doesn't count? Though not all of them… definitely not all," I added, as at that very moment the valiant Petty Officer allowed himself to be taken down by the beauty pressing him, and their struggle shifted to the ground.
The scene drew a vivid blush from the Kyoshi girls and a flood of witty remarks and advice from my men—most of which, admittedly, boiled down to the idea that doing such things in public was indecent, and if they really had to, they could always slip off somewhere together and settle the matter privately.
"Well, if you put it that way, I suppose there's something to it. I was starting to think all of you were monsters like you."
"A monster? Am I really that scary?" I put on an exaggeratedly wounded expression. "How cruel!"
"Huh? No, no—that's not what I meant! I meant your skills!"
My expression remained offended, while she grew flustered and slightly… hmm, not quite panicked, but clearly out of her depth.
"Really? I want to hear the whole truth, no matter how terrifying it may be!"
Right, less melodrama in the voice… and less wine. I swore I'd learned that lesson already.
"But it is the truth! You're very handsome," she blurted.
Ahem. No more for this table either.
"You flatter me. And hearing something like that from such a beauty…" I shook my head. "No, you're definitely flattering me."
"A b-beauty?" She somehow managed to look even more adorable when flustered.
"Well, yes. Honestly, you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," I said—and that was the pure truth. Anyone who says otherwise should try spending a couple of months at sea surrounded by nothing but men, and then we'll see what they think!
"Not that I've seen all that many…" I added, my tongue almost slurring now—blatantly lying this time around.
Or perhaps I was just applying the theory of relativity. After all, "many" is a flexible concept… depends on scale, criteria…
No, that last glass had definitely been unnecessary. Or the wine was too strong.... Or I'd lost the habit…
And come to think of it… had she ever even tried strong wine before today?..
The girl took a resolute breath.
"I like you too, Chan!"
And then she kissed me.
On the cheek—but still. And then she ran off at a rather impressive speed.
"That was… unexpected," I managed, rubbing my cheek and staring in the direction Suki had fled.
Well, that was just great. Apparently, I'd gone and corrupted an innocent, naïve island girl with strong wine.
"And now the main question is—what the hell am I supposed to do with this?"
(End of Chapter)
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