"Then there's a lot to learn." Kazuya strode past him, almost as if he were walking through a set of grand doors just behind the youth. And, by doing so, he had been given witness to a wonderous array of things both magnificent and awe striking.
"You see, there's a way to beat people without really having to fight them the way they fight you. In war, you can't break a man like you break a dog, or a horse. The harder you beat a man, the taller he stands, or so the philosophy would go. To break a man's will, to break his spirit, you have to break his mind. People have this idea that we can fight with dignity, that there's a proper way to fight, to kill someone. It's absurd, it's inaesthetic. We needed to endure the bloody horror of murder. You must destroy that idea, show them what a messy, terrible thing it is to kill a man. And then show them that you *relish* in it. Shoot the wound, and then execute the wounded. Burn them. Engage them in close combat. Destroy the preconceptions of what a man is, and you become their personal monster. When they fear you, you become stronger, you become *better.*" He took a breath, almost as if he were indeed enjoying the moment's monologue, "But let's never forget: it's a display, it's a posture, like a lion's roar or a gorilla thumping at its chest. If you lose yourself to the display, if you succumb to the horror, then you become the monster. You become reduced. Not more than a man, but less.. And it can be fatal."
With the final word, Kazuya whirled upon Tomako. "But, you're not going to kill anyone. Not unless you want an arrest. If you want to win, if you want to stop yourself becoming a punching bag for the rest of your life, you have to show that you are stronger. That you are their nightmare. I personally put faith in knives, but swords work just as well. You know the basics of wielding a sword, right?"