xp_logs | Shiro & Scott

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Shiro finally has his first training scenario in the Danger Room. Which ends prematurely with a battering ram to the head. Head pounding and nose bleeding, Shiro discusses his mistakes with Scott before being ordered down to the medlab. At least he doesn't have a concussion.

Walking had never been so difficult. Every time Shiro raised his foot, he lost his balance and nearly fell over. His head was still pounding, and his nose was still bleeding. Who knew that a padded battering ram to the head would hurt so much?

Oh, right.

Offering thanks to whatever kami were listening, Shiro finally sat down and greedily drained the bottle of water that Scott handed to him. "And I had been doing so well, too," he muttered, discarding a tissue and grabbing another to stuff up his nose.

"Newsflash," Scott said a bit wryly, sitting down. "I was trying to flunk you. Hence why the program scaled upwards once you started doing well. It's an old trick, Shiro, and a good way to assess a person's reactions under stress."

"So you tested me by trying to kill me?" Shiro asked miserably, removing his gloves and burying his head in his hands. "Sorry, that was bitter. I got cocky, and this is what I get in return."

Scott folded his arms, resting them on the edge of the table. "If you're recognizing that, you're ahead of the game. In fact, I would venture to say that you've passed in the ways that matter, even if the Room did its best to beat you to a pulp."

Ways that matter? Not to Shiro. It was painfully obvious that he did not think he had passed and that he would not until he aced the scenario. "Self-realization will not get me as far as I want. Especially if there are battering rams and Gatling guns along the way."

"What's the difference between learning a skill and learning a mindset?" Scott countered. Briefings, with trainees, so often turned into debates, or theoretical discussions. He was getting used to it.

"Skill is proficiency, mindset is habit," Shiro explained. "One cannot demonstrate a proficiency if one is not in the correct mental state. Nor can one achieve that mental state without pushing the body to direct the mind."

Scott just stared at him.

Wrong answer. Shiro winced. "What? Skills are physical, mindsets are mental. They are different, yet they go hand-in-hand. I can learn how to fly quickly enough so that I avoid obstacles, but unless I am trained to constantly look for them, then I will fail. Similarly, I can always be on the lookout but lack the capacity to dodge impediments. The difference lies in what aspect of self is being developed."

"I was sort of sticking on the concept of letting the body direct the mind," Scott said. "That's the one thing you can't do in this 'business', Shiro, most of the time. Following instinct? Is not the best answer the majority of the time."

"I know that." And he did. Really. Even if no one believed him. But getting out of that mindset, which he'd been stuck in for eighteen years? That's not easy. "But you have to understand, sir, that it is not as simple for me as you make it out to be."

Scott raised an eyebrow. "Okay," he said with a deadpan look, "I must have missed where I said any of this was supposed to be easy."

"I did not mean . . . Chikuso, I am not saying what I want to say." Shiro refrained from beating his head against the desk in frustration. Mostly because the last thing he needed was a brain hemorrhage. "I am trying to say," Shiro began slowly, forcing his brain to work through the cloudiness of having beien smacked around like a housewife, but gave up. "I don't know."

Scott took pity on him. "You're not supposed to know just yet," he said gently. "Especially not when you've just been bounced around to the extent that you were in there." He went on more briskly. "Self-assessment in the morning, Shiro, once you've gotten some rest. Right now you need to go and relax."

"No!" he protested, then winced. Ow. Head. Pain. "I can do this now, sir. Really. Please. Can we try it again?"

"The self-assessment, or the run?"

"The self-assessment. I am not foolish enough to do the run again before recovering." New tissue for the nose, new bottle of water. "I think . . . no, I was paying close attention to everything at the beginning of the run. But as I went through it, I became confident in my ability to recognize danger. That was my mistake. I thought that I had directed my body properly, but I actually failed."

"Were you expecting the program to scale upwards?" Scott asked, measuringly.

Shiro nodded. "I have watched a number of other training sessions, and they never fail to increase in complexity. But I suppose I thought that I could handle this. Maybe since it was my first time and I was not expecting anything too rough." He shrugged and finished the water. Dumb dumb dumb. When the rest of the team got wind of this, he was sure that he'd be a laughingstock.

"You have a certain skill level that some of the others didn't have," Scott pointed out. "Hence your first solo scenario was harder, and meant to be. This is all very carefully planned, Shiro."

That news, oddly enough (or maybe not so oddly, if you knew Shiro well), made him feel a little better about himself. Maybe he wasn't the idiot he thought he was. "I know. And I, as usual, overestimated myself. I will not fail like this next time."

"Don't beat yourself up, because it'll lead to overcompensation," Scott advised, "and keep in mind that there's a fine line between healthy and unhealthy persistence." He was reminded, oddly, of Nathan and the Kobayashi Maru scenario. "Do that, and you should do fine the next time."

"Yes, sir. Anoo, if I may ask, how would you rate my performance?"

"High B for the first part of the program," Scott said promptly, "although you took it too fast. When you started bouncing, you dipped to an F, but I'll say you brought yourself back to a C by actually backing off once you realized you were in over your head."

That F hurt, but Shiro understood why, and nodded. "Is it ever possible to get an A in these scenarios?" he asked, smiling weakly (because too big a smile hurt his face).

"The grades are more of an approximation than any realistic standard," Scott pointed out. "The detailed assessments are the important thing. But yes, an 'A' level performance is possible. You watched one not long ago - Nathan and Lorna's second run against the drones that were programmed to reboot themselves."

Well, at least he had an attainable goal. "Wakatta. So, when is the earliest I can try this again?" he asked. His nose had finally stopped bleeding, and while his head was still pounding, it was at least dulling to a manageable pain.

Scott gave him an assessing look. "This weekend. Presuming that when you go out of here and to the medlab, they tell you that you don't have a concussion." He rose from his chair. "That wasn't a hint, by the way."

Shiro couldn't hide the smirk that appeared on his face. "I am the one who goes to the infirmary when necessary, remember? I do not need to be dragged there." He slowly got up from his seat, wobbling in place before regaining his balance. "Thank you, sir. I will contact you the moment I recover."

"Ah, youthful enthusiasm," Scott said, letting Shiro precede him towards the door. He wanted to make absolutely sure he went right to the medlab.

Shiro would have gone even if Scott hadn't ordered him to. He needed an aspirin the size of a horse. Not only for the headache he got from the training scenario, but also from the screaming and fussing he was inevitably going to get from Leyu, Clarice, and Alex.