On the first day, he taught Kikyo archery.
Kikyo stood in the archery range, her longbow drawn taut, the arrowhead aimed at the bullseye fifty paces away.
She had great confidence in her archery.
Even if this arrow did not strike the bullseye dead center, it absolutely would not miss by more than an inch.
"Don't shoot."
The man stood behind her, his voice coming from over her shoulder.
Kikyo's fingers stiffened, but she did not release the bowstring.
"Your posture is very standard."
"Standardly wrong."
Kikyo frowned.
What did he mean, standardly wrong?
"The person who taught you that posture wanted to keep you from being hit on the battlefield."
"But you never considered whether, when you needed to hit a target that absolutely had to be hit, your bow could withstand your will."
The man reached out, gripped her wrist, and pressed her bow down half an inch.
"A bow is not a weapon."
"A bow is an extension of your arm."
"An arrow is not a weapon."
"An arrow is an extension of your will."
"When you want to hit that target, it is not your eyes that are aiming. It is your heart."
Kikyo did not understand what he meant.
She released the bowstring.
The arrow flew from the bow and struck the bullseye.
It hit the hole in the coin positioned just above the bullseye.
The arrow passed through the hole in the coin and lodged in the wooden stake behind it, its fletching still humming with vibration.
Kikyo froze.
She had never shot through that coin hole before.
Her archery was the best at the Shrine. Her best result had only ever been hitting the edge of the coin and knocking it off the target. She had never pierced straight through it.
"Again."
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