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"Big Bad Wolf" (Kyaro) Tomo paused at the entrance to the dojo, and looked inside. It was still and quiet; no one was about, which made sense since she didn't think Nanami and Pilika would leave the funeral early. Tomo changed out of Makoto's old castoffs in a shadowy corner of the dojo. So far she'd managed to get by without arousing anyone's suspicions, but the rather close quarters she'd been in since arriving meant she hadn't had a chance to improve upon her disguise. Barefoot, she hesitated before slipping Makoto's shoes back on; she regretted momentarily throwing her old pair away, but they had been girl's shoes. The close quarters also meant that she hadn't had an opportunity to change the wrappings on her chest or, as she'd hoped she'd be able to do, contrive a slightly less painful way of hiding her breasts. Her skin crawled a little as she considered how revolting the strips of cloth would be after not being changed or washed or even removed for such a long time. myself Changed back into Wolf's clothes, she felt more like herself. She scrubbed a hand through her unnaturally short, spiky hair and sighed, recognizing that until a little grew back, she'd be unable to do anything with it. She imagined that the whole effect of filthy clothes and cropped hair made her look noticeably waifish. Makoto's clothes lay where she'd tossed them on the cot; she'd changed quickly, terrified that someone might walk in and discover her. After a moment's thought, she bundled the clothes up, remembering that she'd noticed a washbasin and some water in the grotto round back. The dirt washed out of the clothing easily, and she hung them out to dry before she let herself examine the grave. She'd noticed it immediately upon leaving the dojo for the grotto, though the grave was set back far enough from the house, and in a shadowy enough corner, that it wasn't visible from the doorway. The stone was rough hewn, and the grass in front of it had been worn away, as if someone was constantly kneeling on the ground before it. Tomo knelt before the grave to read the words. Actually, she noticed as she leaned in, there was only one word. Genkaku. Tomo cocked her head to one side, thinking. Yes, come to think of it, the boy at the funeral had mentioned something about Nanami's house formerly being occupied by herself, her brother, and someone else...the name might have been Genkaku. Of course, that merely could be coincidence...Genkaku wasn't a common name, but nor was it an unknown name, either. On the other hand, Kyaro had been the disputed territory thirty years ago. And Genkaku had been something of an expert in weapons and martial arts...Tomo sighed and shrugged. It didn't much matter, and she didn't plan to ask Nanami about it, either...it's not as if she would have wanted Nanami asking questions about her mother, after all. But who would have ever imagined that Nanami was the granddaughter of one of the most reviled men in Jowston? Tomo sighed and stood and brushed herself off. She picked up Makoto's clothes and lay them over her arm to take them back inside. She remembered the time that her father had been trying to tell her about the duel between Han Cunningham and Genkaku; he'd gotten so angry when thinking about Genkaku's betrayal that they'd had to take a short break so he could calm down. Out the open front door of the dojo, Tomo could see the crowds dispersing, walking through the streets towards their homes. She figured Nanami would probably stay with Jowy, but there was always the off chance they'd come back to the dojo to commiserate, and Tomo didn't feel like seeing anyone just then. She liked them both, and yet... liar She couldn't make herself face them just then, coming back from where they were coming from. They deserved someone who wasn't...wasn't... ...wasn't like her. She slipped out the front door and was gone into the crowd. “Just a little more to the left. Can’t you hear me, peasant?” Marco cried. The servants silently grumbled. This was the fifth time Marco ordered them to change the flower arrangement. In all honesty, they wished that they could have dealt with Jowy instead. Jowy was a much kinder soul. But no, Jowy had other obligations to take care of, leaving Marco to order them around. The younger Atreides brother looked off to the side, hands on hips, sighing. He wished Jowy was around so he could bother him some more. That damn thief took everything he owned and was getting away with it. Marco will have to deal with him. Well, after dealing with these stupid peasants and the flowers. Marco looked at his father’s grave. ‘Father, why? Why did you give the family fortune to Jowy, not me? Are you following into the path of sin letting one with outsider’s blood take over the clan? I’m your true son, not him. Let me, father. Let me.’ No answer, as to be expected from dead people. Marco angrily kicked a nearby pebble. “Hurry up, you peasants! I haven’t got all day!” “Yes, young master.” was the forced reply. They knew exactly what was eating Marco the younger boy was jealous of his brother. Now he was taking his anger out on them. No wonder Master Marcel gave the fortune to Jowy, he was a much more patient person. Now angry and bored, Marco looked around for something to do. Something to take his mind off of his problems. To his surprise, his eyes grazed upon a strange looking peasant. The only reason Marco would remember such a face is that this peasant had come to the funeral with that tomboy, Nanami, and had been dressed in the clothes of that peasant boy Jowy called his best friend. Marco smirked to himself. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that was a girl dressed as a boy. Why she would do that was beyond him. It was probably a peasant thing. With a confused look in her eyes, she approached him. ‘She probably thinks I am in the same league as that stupid peasant Jowy.’ Marco thought. ‘Well, I will prove her wrong.’ Tomo vaguely remembered noticing the boy before she'd slipped away from Nanami at the funeral; he'd been sitting up in the area reserved for the people of importance, and he bore a strong enough resemblance to Jowy that she assumed they must be related. He was definitely younger than Jowy - he looked to be a little bit younger than Tomo herself - but they shared striking physical similarities. Plus, he seemed to be in charge of a group of workers handling take-down, so it seemed like a safe bet that he'd know where Jowy and Nanami and Pilika had gone, so she could avoid them. company No, not company...I just want to ask him one thing, and then I'll leave him alone. He looks busy. Tomo advanced to within a short distance of the boy, and she knew he'd seen her because he was staring right at her as she approached, but as soon as she began to speak he turned his attention someplace else and began ordering the workers around. His commands were abrupt; for someone so young he spoke as if he was used to being obeyed. Tomo waited a moment until she was satisfied that he did to ignore her before she coughed slightly into her hand. He continued to pretend she didn't exist. After a second, she extended her hand towards him. "Excuse me..." "Who the hell," the boy asked without looking at her, "are you, and why are you pestering me?" Startled, Tomo withdrew her hand and shifted uncomfortably. "Um. My name is Wolf, I'm staying with Nanami up at the dojo..." The boy turned and stared at her; she decided to take this as a good sign in spite of the ugly curl his lip seemed to be developing. "...I was just wondering where Jowy had gone. And Nanami. Where they'd both gone, really..." She coughed, suddenly uncomfortable at the boy's staring. "Wolf's not a girl's name," the boy sneered after a second. "It's not a name at all." girl stupid "I know that Wolf's not a girl's name, but..." "Aren't you a girl, peasant?" "Peasant?" "You heard me." The boy paused for a moment, and then suddenly grinned. "You don't mean to tell me that you actually think that you could pass for a boy, do you? That's rich...I thought you were just dressed like that for a joke, or something." He beckoned to the workers. "Come here, even peasants like you should get a satisfying laugh in these situations." He leaned in closer; he was enjoying himself. "So what are you, then...some kind of freak?" Tomo took a step back. A couple of the workers had looked up when the boy yelled, but they all seemed to be ignoring him. Nonetheless, she felt a wave of shame and humiliation roll over her like a thick, acrid cloud. But there was something else that came with the shame and humiliation...it was something cold and hard and she disliked it immediately. "I just want to know where Jowy and Nanami went..." she pleaded. walk away "'I just wanna know where Jowy and Nanami went...'" the boy mimicked mercilessly. "Why's that, peasant? They rescue you from the freak show?" Tomo closed her eyes from a second. Something inside her was twisting and roiling and burning, and she could still see that stupid brat's face behind her eyes when they were closed. He was still talking, still making fun of her. She sighed, clenched her fists at her side, and turned to leave. "Guess Nanami's bed felt kind of empty with her peasant brother gone, is that it?" She stopped dead. With a sickly snap, something inside of her gave way. She heard it; it sounded like a breaking bone. "Yeah, Genkaku dead and Makoto dead...she must've hardly got any exercise at all before you came along, freak. I guess…" Tomo never found out what the conclusion to Marco's statement was. For a moment, consciousness vanished and the hard, cold thing took over. Her fist clenched tighter, something growled - was that her? - and spinning, she flattened Marco Atreides with a single punch to his ugly, sneering, stupid face. Marco fell flat on the ground. He was still conscious, but in pain. His pride hurt more than the physical pain. “H-how dare you lay your filthy hands on me?” he cried, standing to face her, “I’ll have your head for this!” But that peasant girl had already left. Growling, Marco held a hand to his slowly reddening cheek. He went to chase after her but she was already out of sight. In a fit of anger, Marco stomped the ground. He turned to the servants. “I’ve had enough of you peasants! I’m going to take a walk!” With that, Marco stormed off the vincinity. The workers were actually glad he left.
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