[Shirai Tetsumaki]

Shirai Tetsumaki remembered the Raikage's office in a way more intimate than what some might imagine. Having guarded the fourth Raikage. Having helped kill the third. When allowed in, she'd opened the door with a very nonchalant and casual push of the smooth doors. "Yosh. Raikage-Sama." She calls out with a very confident and outspoken tone. Taking the liberty to gaze the office over as she seats herself along one of the chairs across from her leader. "It's nice to be able to finally squeeze in a meeting. Hrrngh!" She calls out, stretching her arms into the air, with a slight crack and pop of the spine as she then leans forward. Resting her hands along her knees, as she observes how much paperwork there might be today.

Where if there was a considerable amount, she'd sigh as if in pity. After all. Kumogakure was hosting this bi-annual Chuunin Exams wasn't it? "Ara ara...I know your time is precious, and there's always a lot for you to do. So. Let me spill it out and make it quick." Taking the liberty to collect herself, she'd speak her observations, and really try to sell what she was looking for. A rather demure, but serious expression.

"We've taken "some" losses over the last few years." One of the biggest understatements of the century. "All of us have felt the aftermaths of that shock. Some of us more than others, and we're on the road to recovery. But militarily. Kumo's at one of its lowest points, and because of that. A lot of the senior and experienced Shinobi have needed to pick up the slack. Sure you know that better than anyone. Which is why I wanted to make some reforms that I think will really help with the newer generations!" She pumps her fists, and slowly holds them upwards to her chest, before sweeping outward.

"A system that'll help us nurture and grow an exceptionally talented group of Genin at fast speed, and ensure they get the skills they need. Though. I was wondering if you're interested before I go into the deeper details about that sort of stuff. Because I'm thinking. Kumogakure needs a new wave of inspiration and young blood."

[hirana kizumi]

A HEART'S A HEAVY BURDEN

Kizumi had been monstrously busy as of late—constantly coordinating with merchants and political leaders to get all of the cogs of the chuunin exam machine running, in addition to the festival surrounding it. Safety measures to put in place, missives to write, bills to pay; even with Eri’s help, it seemed like more and more paperwork was mounting every day. Meeting with Shirai was a welcome reprieve for her writing hand. "Just Kizumi is fine, Shirai,” she said, waving an idle hand as if to brush the formality away. "Drink?” Regardless of Shirai’s preference, Kizumi would at least pour herself a healthy few fingers of whisky; and if Shirai accepted the offer, would pour the same for her, placing the glass on her side of the desk before sitting back down with a groan. She really was getting old—all this sitting was doing a number on her lower back. She nursed her drink as she listened to Shirai’s proposal, nodding thoughtfully at the appropriate moments. It was clear that this was something the other woman was passionate about—and she had been in this business even longer than Kizumi, if her memory served her correctly. She’d be a fool not to listen. "Interested,” Kizumi said. "We do need new blood, but I don’t want to rush anyone into this career, either—it costs too much for that. Tell me more.”

Shirai Tetsumaki -- 228

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

"Sue thing Kizumi. I'll take a drink. Whatever you've got on hand." She says, before promptly looking at the drink. When looking at the whisky? All that was missing was some ice to put it on the rocks. "Uah. A woman after my own heart~" Shirai says it somewhat flirtatiously as she gazes upon the muscled beauty before her. A powerful woman, and buff. However, she wasn't here for that.

"I'd never propose rushing people into this line of work. Most of the kids in the academy get into this sort of work, not even really knowing what it means to be a ninja. And I mean really be a ninja." A lot of the kids didn't have any reference of war, and that wasn't inherently a bad thing. There were too many that had lost parents, friends, and family. As far as she was concerned anyways. Shirai finds herself taking the glass offered to her and takes a deep drink of the shot, feeling it warm her gut as she sighs.

"Putting it simply? There's a lot of kids out there. Orphans. Unfortunate kids. Either from the disease, or having lost family to other means. Not just in the village, but in Kaminari no Kuni. What I want to do?...Is offer them a chance to get started in learning early. Have a secure future, and with benefits to go along with it." Nodding her head, she thought about how to word it really, before deciding to break down the idea in theory. Or at least, something she hoped might come off as a good idea.

"There's kids out there. Without family to go to. And orphanages...aren't exactly the most welcoming place for children. Most of them have uncertain futures, and nobody there to guide them. That's what I want to do. I want to open an incentive program, where orphans or underprivieleged children that join the academy through my program will be given a stipend fund. Excelled training and more personalized lessons by some of our veterans. A proper home. A place where even first generation ninja potentials can wrestle with the best of them." Resting the glass on the tabletop, her eyes scanned Kizumi over and snapped her fingers on her right hand.

"By the time they make Genin? They'll be more skilled and will not only be better prepared, but really feel as if the village has provided for them. Ever since I lost my children, I realized. I still want to be a motherly person. Even if it's to kids not my own. Because Tetsumaki Shirai's love is like lightning. It conducts through the heart."

[hirana kizumi]

Kizumi wrinkled her nose, sticking her tongue out briefly in a wordless acknowledgement of Shirai’s little flirtation—not engaging, too careful and too wary and too precious about maintaining balance amongst her jounin to engage—but acknowledging, at least. She listened carefully, without interrupting, as Shirai laid out the basics of her plan. She jotted down notes as Shirai spoke, that little handy-dandy notebook that she’d kept at her side since assuming the office of the Raikage growing ever-closer to the point of being filled, bloated with errant splashes of whisky and coffee rings on every other page. A soft sound of sympathy at the mention of Shirai’s lost children, but Kizumi didn’t press the topic—she wanted to focus on the ideas Shirai was presenting, and while the heart that backed it was valuable, there had to be a balance between idealism and logistics. "It’s not a bad idea,” she said, tapping her pen against her notebook. "It would be effective, for sure. But how young are we talking? Bringing young kids into the academy and training them up as shinobi before they really understand what they’re signing up for… offering incentives just encourages that more, not less. We need new blood, but we’ve been through too much to start bribing seven-year-olds to sell their souls to the shinobi system. They deserve real childhoods, and the ability to make educated decisions.” Parents enrolling their kids at five, six, seven—there wasn’t anything she could do about that. The clans had their systems, their traditions, and it would take a force stronger than she was alone to change that. But the militarism of Kumogakure’s founding clans didn’t mean she could morally justify picking through the nation’s orphanages to pluck wayward children and shuttle them off to kill. "If the issue is the orphanages being unwelcoming, then why not dedicate more resources to funding the orphanages instead? More rigorous hiring standards, welfare checks, civilian job training, in-house education? Give kids the option to enlist, sure, send recruiters out with paper tests once a quarter and do a speech or something so they know it’s an option.” Her hesitation was clear—Kizumi herself was once an orphaned child who had enlisted as a shinobi to survive, to put food on the table for her siblings and give them a better life. She didn’t regret a minute of it, never had and never would, but she was acutely aware now of how young she had been then. What was the line? More importantly, where did Shirai draw the line between childhood and adulthood—naive seduction into an action-packed lifestyle versus an educated decision based on skill and risk assessment?

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LAIKA OF THQ

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

What Shirai was more or less trying to sell was what Kizumi grew up in, but with prettier words, and some better incentives. Sad as it was to say. However, Shirai did come to reflect on that. How could they in practice make it better? She found herself leaning back in her seat, and with it, she found herself musing on that. "Well...I think we tell the kids first and foremost for how it is. They aren't stupid. You know? Kids can read situations better than even some adults can." She says, musing and feeling a little buzz in the alcohol. That was a hell of a truth.

"Because. Kizumi. I say this with the most respect that I can. The village needs soldiers. As much as a third of our army died in the plague, and we're far from the golden era we once held. And the peace we have now? It's fragile." She says, before slowly giving a soft sigh. "And what peace there is? It can't be maintained without strength." It was a deep discussion between them, and with it, she slowly slides upwards along the chair before sitting more upright. Crossing one hand over the other on her lap, she looks Kizumi in the eye. What of Kirigakure and it's dangerous monarch? What of Iwa and it's goals of world domination? Their army would hopefully be a deterrent to further conflicts. Then even as soldiers, they could live modestly.

Then says it truthfully. "We should tell them that this disease. The wars in the last generation? It's what has left them in this hard world. But that it doesn't need to be bleak. And that they hold power. Power to take charge in their lives. Power to make this village and country prosper. And to defend its peoples. That through them. We can make Kumogakure great again. We can work on civil reforms, but I'm talking to you now from a military sense." She finds herself softening her tone, as she muses on the words she spoke. If perhaps the wording could be better. However, she knew what ideas she wanted to get out.

"I know this idea isn't perfect. However, if they're old enough to understand that joining this program gives them a sense of community? A home? And whatever benefits comes with it? That's old enough. Hell. Even if they don't want to be ninja. Send them my way. My clan's compound is mostly quiet nowadays. Laughter and joy is never a bad thing. I hope we can maintain peace for a thousand years. But I'd rather be prepared to enforce it. If need be."

[hirana kizumi]

"The civilian population was hit even harder than the shinobi,” Kizumi replied. That was the truth of it: shinobi were sturdier and had easier access to chakra-based medical care than civilians, a good number of the clans had sequestered and isolated during the worst of the plague years, and however hard the plague had hit Kumogakure, it had hit the rest of the country worse. "What about farmers, ranchers, sailors, miners, smiths, fishermen? Merchants and tailors and artisans? Loggers? Construction workers?” Any number of trades and industries that were still mending the wounds left by the plague—the list was endless. "Kids are smart, but they’re impressionable, too. You sit a ten year old down and you tell them that they can travel the world on top-secret missions to defend their nation or they can stay home to grow crops—most of them are gonna pick the adventure, and they’re gonna pick the adventure even if we do tell them about all the blood and death and violence, because it won’t mean anything until they have to take a life for the first time with their own hands.” She scratched her pen idly against the paper of her notebook. Peace can’t be maintained without strength, Shirai said—there was a certain degree of truth to that, but there were other ways to shore up your strength than through military might alone. "A six year old offered a roof and food and someone to care for them understands that they’re being offered a community and a home,” Kizumi said. "That doesn’t mean they understand the consequences that come with it, no matter how clearly you try to explain it to them. Like I said, it’s not a bad idea—but there needs to be a hard minimum for when you’re eligible for the stipend, and you can’t separate the civil reforms from the military. I can’t. I’m as responsible for the civil functions of Kumogakure as I am the military functions of its shinobi forces. A farmer is as responsible for the prosperity of the village and country as a shinobi is—the smiths filling our armory are taking charge in their lives. They do hold power. Telling them otherwise is a discredit to all the work the vast majority of people in this country do.” Getting civil reforms pushed out to other cities and towns, approved by the Daimyo and his council—that was a separate issue entirely. All she could manage was what she could manage. "Do you want to turn the Tetsumaki compound into an orphanage, Shirai?” Kizumi asked: a genuine question. She seemed focused primarily on the military aspect, but to Kizumi it seemed there was a clear yearning for children in her life. "Take care of the nation’s youth regardless of what career path they go down? Or are you only interested in training shinobi?”

Shirai Tetsumaki -- 495

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

"And all of those jobs are important." She says, nodding her head, acknowledging every single contribution that citizens had, not just to the militant strength of their nation, but also its economic and cultural prosperity. Luxury and comfort. "But without soldiers? All those people will be doing those jobs for a different conqueror." She says, stating in her mind the unfortunate truth. "The Shinobi of Kumogakure are the defenders to this nation's prosperity, and without a strong shield, all else crumbles." She says, before listening to all Kizumi had.

"You know your duty well, but you know, as well as I do, if not better. That the world is cruel and savage. War has loomed its head consistently since the formation of the great villages, in greater scale and proportions than the world had ever known previous. I don't discredit the value of every contribution made by the people of Kaminari no Kuni. And I know people have killed one another long before the formation of the nations we have now. But I feel as if at this moment, strength is needed with a firm hand to deter the hands of warmongers and radical idealists." She shifts, slowly setting her shot along the tabletop, musing on her own concerns. It was clear.

Both women had a love and genuine concern for the future of their country and the village at large. In truth, Shirai herself didn't know the fine line between morality of the training and enlistment of children, because in her perspective, those things may need to be put aside for the need of the village at large, and that the generation of Shinobi that come forth may not need to be miserable or experience war's horrors if they showed their eagerness, devotion, and spirit. Her eyes flashed upwards when Kizumi asked her if she wanted to make her clan's compound an orphanage. To which Shirai slowly smiles.

"No. I don't want it to be an orphanage. I want it to be a home." She says, making a bit of a distinction. "A place where children are raised with firm and good moral values, with role models to look up to, to adore, and love. A place where children don't grow bitter or resentful, and have guidance most of all." She reassures, before looking deeply into Kizumi's eyes. "I don't care in truth if the children I raise want to become Shinobi or not. Only that they become good and respectable members of society, with good values, and able to stand on their own two feet and take lives in their own hands."

"That's what I want...So I hope you know this policy I come to enact with you isn't from a place of maligned intention. I only want to ensure the country's future is secured from all threats."

[hirana kizumi]

Kizumi sighed, a heavy exhale and implicit acknowledgement of everything Shirai was saying. She knew it was true; those looming threats had hung heavy over her head since the day she’d started occupying this office. It had grown no easier over time, with promises to keep and relationships to forge. "Guidance,” Kizumi echoed. Shirai’s eye contact was intense—she was clearly very passionate about this subject, and she wasn’t wrong that they were in need of a new generation of shinobi. But her own morals had grown soft over the years, and the more teenagers she found herself responsible for, the more she felt that they needed to be protected and guided, not sent off in the pursuit of brutal violence. "We’re still some sixteen thousand strong,” Kizumi said, turning the thought over her in mind. "Less than years past, but not in dire straits just yet. We can handle the work we have, and there’s no shortage of wandering-nin to fill some of the few gaps that exist.” She sighed again; heavy, still, but this time with the distinct air of resignation. "Still, I can’t disagree with you. If we do an incentive program, I want rules—young kids should have access to basic education, but I don’t want the little ones getting money-hungry and enrolling in the shinobi academy before they’re ready. No qualification for the incentive if you’re younger than twelve, at the very least. Can we agree on that?”

Shirai Tetsumaki -- 241

LAIKA OF THQ

[Shirai Tetsumaki]

Shirai could get it. Teenagers. Confused youngsters that were still trying to find their way, looking to adults for guidance sometimes, or giving them the finger the other. They were teenagers once, and as much as Shirai hated to admit it? She probably gave her own family headaches when she was that age. Boisterous. Fiery. Passionate. Short words to describe her then, and what she still was. "I get you. I really do Kizumi." She says, slowly tongueing the inside of her mouth. Before the Raikage spoke about the incentive program and the rules. Taking the liberty to think it out, Shirai knew it was a work in progress vision, but one that the two of them could make happen. Together.

"Whatever you give me the means to work with?...I'll make it work." She says, finding a general agreement there. "Within the means of the village, I'll make that happen. Ensure the kids still get taught and educated, so they can make informed decisions. From there? I'm thinking around ages twelve to eighteen? We provide them the incentive. Stipend. General housing. Things needed to support themselves and others while they're in training." Thinking it out, she was warming up to the idea, and thinking it could spark off a new wave of enlistment into their forces. Kumogakure would rise in power so she hoped. To the upper echelon of strength.

As opposed to guising and acting as if it was. To alleviate the burdens and expectations of its current armed forces and to entrust its values and mission to the newer generation. Taking the liberty to hold her right hand out, she hopes to shake it. Where if taken, she'd shake it firmly and tight. "You know? You could consider me one of your biggest fans. You know that?"