Scott and Shiro, Sunday afternoon

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Hot on the trail of the ever elusive college recommendation, Shiro hunts down Scott to get one. The conversation soon shifts to one of futures and choices, giving Shiro something else to consider.


Shiro only had a couple more months to finish up his college application. With his portfolio nearing completion, he still had to deal with the paperwork. And that includes recommendations. The question was, who would write a good one? Or in other words, whom had he not pissed off on staff yet?

Scott seemed like a good choice. He and Shiro were on good terms, and he had the advantage of being his brother's best friend. So, taking the necessary forms with him, Shiro left his room, intent on Scott's office, hoping he would find him there. "Mr. Summers?" he called, knocking on the door.

Scott looked up at the knock on the door and the familiar voice, automatically saving and closing the file on his computer. "Come in, Shiro," he called back, offering the young man a brief smile as he came in. "I must be getting awfully predictable for you to know to look in my office on a Sunday afternoon... what can I do for you?"

Shiro offered Scott a grin as he closed the door behind him and approached the desk. "You are the antithesis of your brother sometimes, sir, and knowing him as well as I do has given me enough of an understanding of you." Shiro took a seat opposite Scott, keeping the papers out of sight for now. "I actually have a favor to request."

Scott leaned back in his chair, smiling again at Shiro's joke. Or at least he thought it was a joke. "Well, lay it out for me," he invited amiably. "Let's see if it's something I'm in the position to do."

Shiro sat up in his seat, back straight, keeping his posture formal. This was an important request, after all, and even if this was his best friend's brother he was asking, dignity and respect were still required. "I need some of my teachers to write me recommendations for university," he explained. "If you do not have other things to deal with, I would like for you to write one of them, please. I would understand if you are too busy, of course . . ."

Scott made a thoughtful noise. "I'd have to be a little vague about what precisely I taught you," he pointed out. "I don't think the admissions committee of this college would be overly impressed by your performance in my energy-projection class." But the school was technically a boarding school, after all, so he had some justification to write about Shiro's general performance and attitude, so on and so forth. "I could do that," Scott said with a nod.

"I am applying art schools, sir, which are notoriously liberal," Shiro said dryly. "It is possible that being a mutant will be a personal selling point, to increase student body 'diversity.'" Shiro placed the forms on Scott's desk. "And thank you very much. This is very important to me."

"If there's one thing I've learned," Scott said a bit dryly, "it's not to count on people's ability to be open-minded. You're far less often disappointed that way." He picked up the forms, scanning them quickly. "These don't look too complicated. I should be able to get them done fairly soon. What's the deadline?" He looked up at Shiro, smiling. "I was glad to see you find something you wanted to do. I know the past few months have been difficult."

"Pessimism does not look good of you, sir," Shiro scoffed. "The application for Parsons School of Design is due the first of March, and the one for the School of Visual Arts is not due until the first of May, so there is a lot of time to complete this." Now that that was over, Shiro could relax in his seat, at least as relaxed as he could get in a teacher's office. "The past year has been difficult," he clarified. "What plans I used to have have been . . . upset, I suppose."

"I prefer to think of it as realism," Scott countered lightly, but then grew more serious. "I realize," he said more quietly. "I know that art school is something new for you," he went on a bit tentatively. "I don't know what you were planning beforehand, but maybe it's not totally lost, whatever it is?"

Shiro nodded and kept silent for a moment togather his thoughts. Flying off the handle because he was frustrated (among other feelings) at his new lot in life would serve no prupose. "I believe that my life in Japan, and my desire to serve and protect Her, are no longer realistic goals. The entire country is inhospitable for the next few decades."

"To serve and protect Her," Scott echoed, mimicking Shiro's emphasis. His fingers tapped a bit restlessly on the edge of the desk. "Do you mean Japan, or the people of Japan? And yes," he said, softly but firmly, when Shiro might have answered. "There's a difference."

Shiro opened his mouth to answer with a rhetorical "yes," but shut it when Scott mentioned a difference. After a slight hesitation, he shook his head. "No, sir, I do not believe that there is," he replied calmly. "There is no country without the people, and there are no people without the country. We believed, and I can only guess that many still do, that we are descended directly from the kami, and that the Emperor is our divinely chosen leader, regardless of what General MacArthur forced Hirohito to swear. So it all warrants the same consideration."

"I guess you and I will have to agree to disagree on that," Scott said a bit coolly. "Nationalism, religion, ethnic conflict, genetic conflict... I can't see any of it as anything but a destructive force. Maybe I've studied too much history. To me, it all seems to get in the way of recognizing and respecting the basic humanity of people." He made a brief, almost sharp gesture. "You say you wanted to protect Japan. That's a noble goal. But there are millions, even billions of people in the world who need protection of the sort someone with your gifts could provide as much as or even far more than your countrymen do."

Shiro raised an eyebrow. Did he just enter a recruitment center? "Mr. Summers, I am samu - ronin, actually. But I was samurai, and despite my dismissal, my duties are first and foremost to my country. Do not get me wrong, sir, I still do want to protect people . . . I think. The question to consider, though, is: to where do my loyalties lie?"

"And here we are, right back at what I think you and I will never agree on," Scott said a bit wryly. "It bewilders me that the question is 'to where?' The only question that makes sense to me in that context is 'to who?'."

"'To whom,'" Shiro automatically corrected, demonstrating a mastery of the English language that a perfect score on the TOEFL told him he had. Or it was just anal-retention. "'Where' in a general directional sense as opposed to a geographical or national one," he said, shrugging. "I . . . I just do not know what I am supposed to do. I was raised to believe that Japan and the Japanese people are special and therefore superior to everyone else, and that I have a duty to them. But given recent events, my purpose is unclear now."

"You could look upon it as an opportunity," Scott suggested. "Not a lack of clarity. You can define for yourself what your purpose is, now, if you feel there needs to be... something more, or at least in addition to art college in your immediate future." And they were now rapidly approaching the point at which he would officially be 'pushing'. Which he had no intention of doing.

"You change from cynical to optimistic rather hastily," Shiro dryly remarked. "Doctor Samson has said much the same thing. And the advice is well received, I assure you, but too vague to be of any use. My purpose?" Shiro shrugged. "I do not know what would make me happy or have the sense of wholeness that I used to." But he could tell what Scott was hinting at, and it was not an idea he was entirely adverse to.

"I prefer to think of it as recognizing both reality and one's ability to change it," Scott said with an almost whimsical smile. "But I'm sure you could find people around here who'd claim I was fundamentally inconsistent." He glanced down at the references again, the smile still toying on his lips. "Just stay open to the possibilities, Shiro."

"I would never say such a thing about someone who is so graciously agreeing to write a page of praise about me," retorted Shiro, grinning as well. "And I will, sir. Thank you for, well, a lot." Standing up, Shiro prepared to bow in gratitude, then on second though extended his hand instead.

Scott leaned forward and shook Shiro's hand firmly. "You're welcome. If there's anything more I can do, my door is always open."