Your new home tutor turns out to be a baby.

A baby, who doesn't even come up to your knees, but still manages to completely terrify you nonetheless.

Your first meeting with Lal Mirch doesn't begin with a 'hello' or even a 'how are you'. No. Instead, Lal greets you by firing live rounds centimeters away from your feet, with enough force that the ground splinters upon impact, thin cracks bursting from the crater like spider's legs.

Like any rational person, you let out a scream, and stumble backwards.

"You fail! That was pathetic!" The baby yells. You stare at her, uncomprehending. A tiny baby holding a shotgun is incongruous at best. Terror turns your blood to ice. "How do you expect to beat the Varia in this condition?"

You open your mouth. Close it. Finally, you manage to find your voice. "Who are you and why are you shooting at me?"

"I'm Lal Mirch, your Home Tutor." Lal says. She stares at you for a long moment, sizing you up. Even before she next speaks, you know that you've been found wanting. "You've met Iemitsu? Did he explain everything to you?"

You don't relax until you see that the barrel of her gun isn't pointed at you. She's still looking at you as though she's considering filling you with bullets. Your knees quiver, and you have to fight to keep the fear off your face. "Um, I'm [ NAME ], your new student, I guess? And yes I met Iemitsu, and yes he did explain a bit, but -"

"Good. We don't have much time." Lal removes her infrared visor, revealing sharp brown eyes and a round, chubby face. From the way she carries herself, you know that she's abandoned girlhood a long time ago. Pocked, ridged scars cover half her face, a wound that makes her flesh resemble melted wax. A grey pacifier is fastened around her throat. "We'll be training for ten days. If you survive, you'll become one of the strongest guardians."

You gulp.

Lal's pace of training is relentless.

The strength training works muscles you didn't know you had to the point of misery. You had hoped that your time in Italy would prepare you for this kind of exertion, but you're sadly mistaken. If you thought that Gamma was a slave driver, it's nothing compared to Lal, a demon sent straight from hell.

Hours are spent reviewing form and martial arts techniques. Your sore muscles bewail every punch and parry. Lal is maddeningly calm, even as she delivers devastating attacks and critiques your form and movements with a snap to her voice. At the end of every spar, you sit down on the floor, hard, Lal's collective years of expertise condensed into a single, one-sided ass-kicking.

You'd asked your instructor for a break once, just once, but even that timid request had been enough to earn her ire. Lal had fixed you with a frosty glare before lunging forwards to - quite literally - slap some sense into you.

"The Varia are coming in ten days! We don't have time to sit around and relax!"

The subject had been dropped fairly quickly after that. Lal has no qualms about slapping you silly for your transgressions, and even though she's a baby, her little hands hurt.

"You'll need a weapon." Lal says, throwing a cylindrical plastic canteen at you. Predictably, you fumble to catch it, and it drops to the floor with a thud at your feet.

Lal sighs. Loudly. You pretend that you don't see or hear her disapproval, and focus instead on the precious container of water held in your hands. "Um, well, I don't exactly want -"

This time, her disapproval changes to outright anger. The venom in her voice feels like a slap, and you struggle not to recoil from her. "Stop that naive way of thinking at once. The Varia are an elite group of assassins, and make no mistake, they will kill you if given the chance. You cannot afford to be soft, or you will lose your life."

As expected, Lal doesn't mince her words, or try to shield you from the truth. You stare down at your hands, already seeing them stained red with blood. The harshness of this new life and the responsibilities that come with it fall down hard upon your shoulders. You've already given Iemitsu your word that you'll be the Lightning Guardian, and you know what the consequences will be if you refuse to fulfill your duties.

You should not be calm. You should want to rage and scream, much like the lightning engraved on your ring. You should not be calm, but you are. Unnervingly so. There is only one path ahead of you now, and you can see it clearly lit. It is an awful path, one you hate. You will never forgive yourself for walking down it. It's possible that you might not even come out the other side the same person that you once were.

Aria's smile, bright and radiant and beautiful. Don't lose that kind heart of yours, [ NAME ].

But it is the only path ahead of you.

Lal is still staring at you expectantly. You know that she's expecting an answer.

Unbidden, your mind flashes on a memory: Gamma standing beside you at the firing range, hand on your thin shoulder, assessing your shot grouping. You swallow. If a fight is unavoidable, if you really have no choice, then -

Your voice is thin, and wavers. "How about a gun?"

Lal arches an eyebrow.

You try again. "I want a gun. Please."

The weight of it feels almost reassuring in your hands. Gamma's hands were rough when he showed you how to position your fingers, your palm, how to load and unload, and how to hold the gun. But his hands were soft against the crown of your head when he ruffled your hair after you got it right.

And so, it's under Lal's watchful eye that you shoot; standing, kneeling, prone, firing at targets from seven to three hundred meters, watching as the paper targets are ripped apart under the hail of bullets. Your body remembers - even when the rest of you forgets - that you were made for this. Lal makes a noise, but this time she sounds approving, so you suppose that you've actually managed to meet her notoriously high expectations.

"You handle your weapon like I used to." Lal says, after a long silence.

You think that it's as close to a complement as you'll ever get from her.