"He heard the sound of waves striking the shore, and it was as though the surging of his young blood was keeping time with the movement of the sea’s great tides. It was doubtless because nature itself satisfied his need that Shinji felt no particular lack of music in his everyday life."
- Yukio Mishima, The Sound of Waves
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Season 1, Interautumnal Interlude V - "Blessing It"
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Early November. With the autumn cold covering the city, Isaac stuffed his hands into the pockets of his Academy-provided greatcoat as he waited at a crosswalk. Brazilian-made cars drove past him on this Saturday morning, off on errands, off to visit friends, maybe even off to work. For Isaac, this Saturday morning meant spending time at the Vocational School’s gymnasium in the southeastern part of Elizabeth Pond.
The cars came to a halt as the lights at the intersection changed. The walk sign came on, and Isaac joined a few other pedestrians in crossing the avenue. The Pond used to be packed with pedestrians, but after the raid, most people decided it would be safer to remain indoors. The usually-bustling streets were relatively empty, and that just made Isaac’s determination stronger.
It’s easy to talk about principles this and beliefs that, but to see these empty streets with my own eyes – knowing that they did this to my people – I need to get stronger.
His older brother warned him against growing too close with the people of Elizabeth Pond. His earthly attachments to a small district could blind him to the bigger picture of the wider world the two brothers wanted to recreate together. But Isaac had lived here for over a year now. Elizabeth Pond, with its clean rivers and long avenues, busy train stations and colorful neighborhoods, friends both old and new, and not to mention the Academy that made sure everything ran smoothly – Isaac felt a sense of belonging to it all.
It was his world. It was a world far more complicated than Isaac ever could have guessed – New Yorkers who weren’t so bad and revolutionaries who felt their ends justified their means. Isaac had arrived at the Academy wanting to destroy it all, to tear everything down and start anew. But after seeing more of this world – from the lessons he learned to the fights he fought to the mundane moments with friends at the park or just watching television - Isaac wasn’t sure if that destroying the world was the right way to go about saving it.
If I work hard and train hard, then maybe the world, battered and imperfect as it was, maybe it doesn't need to be wiped clean. Maybe I can change it from within.
But as he headed down the sidewalk, passing by patrolling groups of Military Policemen joined by Academy mercenaries recalled from conflict zones in the Congo and South America, Isaac had to scratch his head.
Could you really change the State Police from within? And what about other countries? New York still needed to be dealt with to save the world, and due to the Unified Pact, that would mean dealing with far-off countries like England and Germany. Could I change those countries from within?
Maybe there isn’t a right answer. Maybe some things can be changed from within while others need to be destroyed. But if that’s the case...then who decides what needs to be destroyed?
Do I have that right? Does anybody?
Isaac felt a cold breeze on him, but he ignored it as he took a short-cut through a side street. This took him between two tall apartment complexes, rows and rows of laundry hung on ropes fluttering above him.
Every piece of clothing up there belongs to someone. The decision to destroy something would affect all of them. The decision not to destroy them, too.
Isaac shook his head and focused. I’m still a Class 1 and can only use the Rddhi with my right arm. I should just focus on getting stronger first before thinking on global politics and philosophy.
At the end of the day, I really do want to get stronger to return the favor to everyone who’s helped me make it this far. I can sort out my feelings about everything beyond that later.
He had to wonder what his brother would make of thinking like that, though.
But after arriving back on another avenue, Isaac reached his destination. Elizabeth Pond Vocational School stood before him on the other side of the avenue, a large concrete building of drab gray. The Academy was built with aesthetics in mind; in contrast, the Voc’s architects (and investors) only used utilitarian features and cost-efficient measures in their design.
Rddhi users recruits from everywhere and normal Pond students who tested high enough went to the Academy. Anyone else in the district went to the Voc, giving it a less-than-stellar reputation. It was a decent school of course, better than the ones in Neponset or Fore River, but students from the Academy would likely become college students and then factory managers, while students from the Voc would likely just become factory workers.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. According to Isaac’s radio and textbooks, the nation needed workers just as much as managers in order to bring about ultimate victory. But many of the students at the Voc weren’t exactly of the motivated, ambitious kind.
But according to a recent radio address given by Chairman Stockham after the raid, he planned on changing that. The principal he appointed to run the school, an Academy alumni named Ian, would work with the Academy to transform the Voc on a physical, emotional, and spiritual level.
And as Isaac arrived on school grounds and walked up the paved road that would take him to the lobby, it certainly seemed that way. According to a student named Martinez who attended the Voc, everybody there was now required to join a club, and every club had mandatory “school cohesion” sessions after school and on Saturdays.
That mean the entire school was slowly being organized similar to the Academy’s Technical Corps – the military organization of its Rddhi users. Isaac whistled as he caught a glimpse of the school’s fields used for sports – hundreds of students marched in lockstep, performing close order drills to the sound of a trumpet. Martinez also told him that they made everyone perform hand-to-hand combat drills, rifle practice, and more marching, not to mention the marching.
Martinez really talked about marching, Isaac supposed. He knew his old acquaintance preferred riding his motorcycle to doing any sort of walking, so the marching must be a major pet peeve for him.
A waiting Technical Serviceman allowed Isaac inside the Voc building. Isaac had been here a few times before – back then, the lobby walls were just as empty and gray at the outside walls to the buildings. But now, dozens of posters covered the walls so little gray was visible.
Isaac had to admit, he did like some of them. Those posters were the ones with soldiers, drawn with well-defined features, marching off toward the sunset – because west was the only way for New England to expand.
But today, that poster reminded Isaac of the bigger picture about destroying countries and such, so he quickly shifted his eyes toward a different poster. This one depicted a smiling Mr. Stockham, an equally-smiling yet slightly smaller Ian next to him, while hundreds of children marched behind them, captioned ALL TOGETHER NOW FOR THE FUTURE NIRVANA. Isaac felt pulled by that poster to some greater sense of belonging and mission, too.
But he was there for a reason, so he exited the lobby, swinging left toward the gymnasium. He passed down a quiet hallway covered in posters for the school’s various clubs. As he rounded a corner, he almost bumped into two girls in gray Voc school uniforms who, based on their youthful looks, Isaac guessed were first-years.
Isaac went to apologize. “Hey, sorry about-”
Much to Isaac’s surprise, the girls looked at him slack-jawed, then hastily collected themselves. They clicked their heels together and saluted. “Apologies, Private!” one of them exclaimed.
“It won’t happen again!” the other one added.
The two immediately headed off, putting distance between themselves and Isaac.
Isaac scratched his head. What the heck...
As he placed his arm back at his side, Isaac caught a glimpse of the Rddhi patch on his upper arm, then remembered his greatcoat also carried the singular silver marking on each shoulder that designated his rank. A Class 1 Rddhi user held the rank of Private, which technically put Isaac above those two girls - who held the bottom rank of students - in a military hierarchy.
But they weren’t soldiers, were they? They really are turning this school into a military organization.
Any other implication following that aside, Isaac had to admit – being addressed like that really did feel kind of kick-ass. It made Isaac feel...superior wasn’t the right word. More like, he had a tangible way of seeing his hard work paying off. Maybe? Isaac wasn’t quite sure, but he did feel a little giddy about it.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
A minute or two after that, Isaac finally arrived in the gymnasium. From the basketballs being shot and the batons being twirled, Isaac guessed it was the non-sports clubs marching outside while the sports clubs currently occupied the gym.
As Isaac headed toward the ring at the other side, every time he passed by nearby students taking water breaks, they all treated him the same way due to the patch on his upper arm and the markings on his shoulder. The initial appeal wearing off, Isaac wasn’t quite sure if he liked the deference being shown to him. These people were his equals, and were his equals when he visited the Voc last year, but now they were all in a military hierarchy. Isaac was different from them now.
But Isaac always saluted back and finally made it to the boxing ring assembled at the far end of the gym. When he arrived, the slew of boxers stretching outside the ring stopped what they were doing and immediately saluted. That’s when Isaac realized Principal Ian himself was there. He was of medium height with light orange hair and a stocky build. Isaac heard rumors that Ian served as a military advisor to the Argentine government before its unfortunate fall to the centripetalists.
Isaac didn’t understand the politicking or PR perspective, but since he was a student at the Academy, he didn’t need to salute Ian, whom all the Voc students needed to salute. Instead, Ian shook Isaac’s hand – his grip was firm and strong.
“Glad you could join us,” Ian greeted.
“Glad I could be here,” Isaac answered.
The whole thing was set up far in advance. Back at the Academy, as Isaac grew more accustomed to his Rddhi powers, the higher-ups allowed him to partake in a wider variety of training exercises. While martial arts was the usual focus, Isaac enjoyed when they allowed him to box. Boxing provided a greater danger to Isaac due to the potential head trauma, but a fight purely between punches – now that’s something Isaac could get behind.
After some boxing sessions, the Academy assigned him to fight in a boxing match at the Voc. Once again, a lot of the politicking went over Isaac's head, but apparently him being there would serve as motivation for the Voc students. Since the ultimate aim of the Voc’s militarization was to support the Academy, then having an Academy student there would give the Voc students a real picture of who they followed and perhaps would serve as motivation to catch up to them.
Isaac knew that he needed to give them a show. To serve as an inspiration. Through boxing no less! Isaac didn’t mind that at all.
A tall student with a thin, wispy mustache approached Isaac. “May the best man win,” Martinez said with a grin as he shook Isaac’s hand.
As the two stretched and readied themselves for the match, Isaac reflected on his memories of his opponent. During his time as a school janitor, the Academy occasionally loaned Isaac out to the Voc for similar duties. There, he occasionally ran into Martinez, who worked as a fellow janitor at the Voc through that school’s student employment program for families who needed extra sources of income only their children could provide. Though their acquaintanceship was brief, they did bond over a shared love of sports.
Isaac heard Martinez hung around with one of Isaac’s classmates now, a girl named Babs Moran. Isaac didn’t know much about Babs outside of what his friend Dan told him, and what Dan told him about her usually contained an odd mixture of violence and beauty.
But Isaac supposed he could understand that mixture as he and Martinez threw their shirts off and stepped into the ring, boxing gloves taped onto their hands. Martinez apparently displayed aptitude and was now a Class Rep at the Voc, giving him a rank of Private. This meant that, even if Isaac lost, it would at least be to someone of equal rank.
Not that Isaac planned on losing. The activities across the gym ended as the students gathered to watch the match. Isaac saw the looks on all their faces, looks of wonder and disbelief. Here was a Rddhi user they all needed to salute. Was he really someone worthy of saluting?
Isaac was going to answer that with an affirmative yes by punching Martinez’s lights out.
Ian held a bell in one hand and a hammer in the other. Martinez grinned at Isaac, who answered in kind. Ian brought his two items together, sending out an emphatic gong noise that could only mean one thing – begin!
With light steps, Isaac and Martinez made their way to the center of the ring. Martinez threw out a few probing jabs that Isaac stepped away from. To make it a fair fight, Isaac couldn’t use his Rddhi – he needed to defeat Martinez as a normal fighter.
And it was a little tough – pouring Rddhi into his punches was almost instinctual for Isaac by this point. But fundamentals were key – a Rddhi punch meant nothing if a normal punch was sloppy and lazy. Speedbag drills with his training partner, Leekman, down below the Academy helped Isaac train that.
And, of course, the lesson he unfortunately learned through getting smacked around by Reed at Domino Dojo – that Isaac had a tendency to stand in one place and let his clones move for him. He himself needed to move around and avoid head-on collisions. As Martinez swung at him, Isaac kept his left shoulder towards Martinez, giving his opponent a smaller target to strike. He also stayed light on his feet, moving in circles. Losing against Reed also taught Isaac the importance of his footwork. He could tell that Martinez, tall and lanky, still moved awkwardly, while Isaac stepped confidently.
But perhaps the most important lesson of all came from all of his earlier fights – that his opponent always carried a motive with him. Isaac merely assumed Alfie was an evil spy, but it turned he had some complicated feelings going on. Jackson having nothing better to do seemed like an incredibly flimsy excuse to someone like Isaac at first, but it also made him realize that some people just didn’t treat everything as serious as he himself did. Harriet Jones would do anything to change the world she felt so tired of.
The jagged memory of Harriet running a sharpened pencil through her own throat made Isaac involuntarily shudder; Martinez pressed the advantage and sent a few haymakers that sent Isaac backpedaling. The crowd gasped at the sudden change, but Isaac collected himself before his opponent could do any lasting damage.
I see his motivation now, Isaac realized. Martinez fights aggressively, on the offensive, because with each punch, Isaac better understood that Martinez wanted to prove himself.
A powerful punch to his shoulder made Isaac remember a conversation during their days as fellow janitors.
“I don’t have the Rddhi,” Martinez said as they sat along a wall outside the Voc as the sun set. “And I don’t have the test scores. And if I have neither, then I’ll be stuck at the Voc.”
Both of them took long drinks through the straws of their juice boxes.
“And if I’m stuck at the Voc,” Martinez continued. “Then my future’s largely set. Imagine that. I’m only fifteen, yet since I’m going to the Voc, I know that I’ll be a factory worker or maybe even just a janitor for the rest of my life. Not that that’s a bad thing, but...to already know what the rest of my life will be like...”
Isaac braced himself for a strong punch that carried that motivation with it. Martinez works hard to improve his future. He doesn’t want it to be set in stone already. That’s why he worked hard enough to become a Class Rep.
And the final lesson Isaac learned – that his own victory meant someone else’s defeat. He remembered his conversation on the balcony with Reed the other week under the moonlight.
If we really live in a Darwinist world, then my victory means my motivation is better than his. But...is that really true? Does might really make right?
That was just another thing he would need to think on. But as for right now-
Me winning doesn’t mean his desire to improve his future is any worse or better. Keep going, Martinez!
According to what Isaac learned in his military theory class, the Clausewitzian culminating point of Martinez’s offensive had arrived. His powerful punches slowly drained his strength until he could no longer maintain his pace.
Now it was Isaac’s turn to strike. The crowd gasped again as Isaac sent a powerful blow right at Martinez’s chest. Martinez stumbled back, but his feet got tangled up in the retreat, enabling Isaac to get the jump on him. Isaac threw haymakers at his chest and shoulders, backing Martinez into a corner.
As to why Isaac was so confident on his victory – he did hear rumors that Martinez participated in a gunfight at a warehouse on the day of the State Police raid, so his opponent did have experience with combat. But Isaac himself had partaken in multiple fights where death was on the line. The speed of the boxing match was just so much slower than those fights. Not just physically, but the ability to make decisions and make future predictions on his opponent’s actions. Thanks to his experience, Isaac was just faster on all levels.
He delivered the same final blow he gave to Harriet – an uppercut below the jaw. Martinez stumbled onto one knee, and that was it.
Ian stepped in between them, stopping the match. As the principal checked in on Martinez, Isaac realized he still breathed calmly and though he worked up a sweat, he felt like he could go for a dozen more rounds. He looked down at his fist – well, boxing glove covering the fist.
Have I really come this far? And there’s still so much farther to go!
That was the lesson he wanted to give to these Voc students. He took a good look at their faces. Some of them did look disappointed that one of their own couldn’t best a Rddhi user, but others looked at him in awe. Even if no Rddhi was involved, they saw a Rddhi user in action and how effortlessly he made victory seem.
Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, Isaac thought, wanting to stay humble, yet he couldn’t help but grin.
Ian helped Martinez to his feet, and then held both his and Isaac’s arm.
“Our winner – Isaac Spallacio!” Ian declared, hoisting Isaac’s arm into the air.
The crowd all cheered and Isaac gave himself a moment to soak it all in.
“Hell of a fight,” Martinez said. He looked a little angry and disappointed, sure – but the main feature on his face at the moment was determination. “Looks like I have someone I need to catch up to.”
Isaac smiled. “Keep working hard, and I bet all the students down there will feel the same way about you.”
Martinez nodded, both of them listening to the cheers of the crowd.
“Let’s keep going, then.”
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A few days later, Isaac and Dan sat at the Elizabeth Pond Burger Pal, finishing up their meals.
“I heard you made a big commotion down at the Voc,” Dan said, his voice carrying the usual mixture of dry sarcasm and amusement with it. “There’s been a lot of talk about you.”
“The Academy sent me down there to be a role model,” Isaac explained, unable to keep pride from his voice. “Are people saying they’re inspired? Not that I’m a narcissist, I just hope me going down there actually made a difference.”
Dan chuckled. “Apparently, people are split 65-35 on whether Martinez or you are better looking.”
Isaac raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Yeah, I guess you guys threw your shirts off or something, and that got the crowd in both a tiff and a tizzy. According to the rumor mill, you might look like a Greek god if it weren't for that little bit of dough on your face - don't deny it, Ike - but Martinez is tall and has a mustache.”
Isaac crossed his arms. “...it’s not even fully grown!”
“Grown more than yours, though.”
Indeed, Isaac couldn't grow facial hair beyond a level that would make people uncomfortable leaving him alone with a child.
He sighed. “What about inspiration? Or change?”
Dan shrugged. “Sure, I heard things like that. But people are all about appearances nowadays, Ike. Motivations are much more subtle.”
Isaac sighed once again. “Ain’t that just the way.”
He ate his last fry, and learned one last lesson for the day.
People are complicated.
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AUTUMN BEGINS UNNOTICED...