Author's Notes: WOOOO! Haha, man once again this took me a long time to write (mainly cos I'm lazy). Well I wrote about Logos and Ormi's childhood, so I thought it would be fun to write about Leblanc's. This is gonna be a long one so I'll start my other fanfics in between, updates for this will be slow but I'm gonna try my hardest to complete it.

She stared down at the washed grass and glazed stones beneath her feet as she trudged through Kilika wood. Her eyes were dead, unseeing at this present time. They did not take in the earth but instead the events of the last few days replaying over and over.

It began that morning, the sun had already risen by the time her father had rapped upon her door and quietly called for her to awake. She had been obedient and got dressed then descended the stairs to assist him. For the four short years of her life this little flower shop in Luca was all she'd ever known. It was a family business, passed down through the generations of her parental side. Her father, Clément, had sat her upon the counter many times and taking her tiny hands in his said,

"Rosette, one day when you're a beautiful, young woman, like your mother, I'll give the shop to you. But I know that there will never be a sweeter flower than you."

That morning he had done so again, and her excited smile had grown all the more when he slipped a delicate rose head into her long, thick hair

Clément was a strange, collected man. Barely an inch taller then his late wife, with scruffy, dirty blonde hair that was always raked backs into a stunted ponytail. His features were sharp but not harsh, with weak, brown eyes hidden behind a pair of half moon spectacles. He had his system to which he always worked to come what may but he never tired of it and always presented himself with the utmost enthusiasm for his profession.

The morning had continued on a slow note, her father had served the few customers that had come and she had gone about her ways, watering, trimming the foliage and re-arranging the tulips in the front window. About eleven o'clock her father had suggested they break early for some lunch but before she could answer there was a low rumble from beneath the ground. The both of them had frozen; still to see if it came again, it did and when it came she became so flustered she had shot straight into her father's arms.

The ground shook, at first only a light tremor but within a matter a minutes it became violent. Vases dropped and smashed on the tiled floor and the flowers wilted in fear themselves and shrivelled away from the impending evil.

"Daddy! What's happening?!" She had screamed.

Instead of hearing words of comfort though the only response was a whispered,

"Oh, fayth have mercy."

Suddenly the wind wiped her hair and she could hear the copper bell from the shop door clang frantically. She hadn't seen anything, her head buried in her father's shoulder, she could only hear. People shouting, shrieking and running. What was happening? Where was he taking her?

Now she could feel her father's clasp tighten and she could hear great booms and clashes from all around her, men calling urgently, woman shrilling and children crying. A deep roar and a great smash of the sea waves colliding and whirling. The wind whooshed past even faster and the chaos began to cave in.

Suddenly she was plucked from her father and placed heavily on the floor. Her father's hands gripped her by the shoulders, a grasp she'd never felt before it was authoritative and firm. His face, it was beaten and bleeding, the left lenses of his glasses cracked and those brown eyes staring deep inside her.

"Rosette! Listen to me! You see up these stairs here, they lead to the Highroad, go up there and run and don't you dare stop running until you can hear the noises no longer."

She did not respond but simply cried.

"Understand?" He shouted.

She nodded and with one last embrace, he released her and she had fled.

She sniffed a little, uncorking the bottled memory of her last moment with her father. A fair hand reached down and gripped hers, squeezing a little.

"Not much further now, watch the vines."

Kimonochi was, to Rosette's knowledge, a great warrior with links to Yevon. Two days after the events in Luca she had made a stop at the Mi'hen Highroad's travel agency to collect supplies. In doing this she had spotted Rosette lying on a tattered hammock. She had done as her father instructed and ran from the destruction but in the process other people begging for escape had trampled her. The massive cluster of feet had crushed her bones and the wearing steps had slit her skin. She had staggered into the agency, weeping for help but knowing full well she could not afford any potions. Luckily the Al Bhed present had been a charitable man and saw to her cuts and bruises before letting her rest there.

Rosette remembered studying the woman intently as she entered. She was of average height, not as tall as her father had been though, dressed in a long white kimono with black embroidery around the edges. She was muscular and slightly hefty but her face was soft and open. Her thick, curly, black hair pulled back messily into a sort of wrapped bun that held a single ornamented pin with a tiny, silver bell on the end that chinked merrily as she walked. Finally, attached to her back was a long, polished samurai sword in a finely decorated, leather sheath.

She had tottered up to the counter and given the Al Bhed a playful tap.

"Hey Rin, nice to see you again," she had said, "don't worry I'm not here on any business, but do you think you could possibly get me some X-Potions from round the back?"

"Now, Kimonochi you know those aren't for sale, they're only kept for emergency healing."

"Oh come on, Rin, I only want one or two. Sakiko has asked me to come and start training with her over the next fortnight and she said to come well prepared."

"Fine, but only because it's you. That is if I have any left, we had a girl come our way today, terrible stat, we may have used the last few to help her."

"What girl?" But the Al Bhed had already retreated to the storeroom.

It was here while she drummed her fingers on the woodwork and whistled idly did she spot Rosette. She had stopped her activities abruptly, smiled then slowly approached.

The conversation they had had was still rather blurry in Rosette's mind. There were simple questions, like: what's your name? How old are you? What happened to you? Then more in-depth topics such as: What was your business in Luca? What caused such chaos? Who were your guardians?

Some questions she was unable to answer but she was interested in what Kimonochi had to say when she mentioned her mother was Toshi Shimei.

"Toshi? I knew her, well we were introduced, she was very busy a lot of the time. She was a mercenary for Yevon, wasn't she?"

Rosette had nodded meekly.

"She died not long ago, two years I'm pretty sure. You, you do know how she died?"

Rosette had looked down at the wiry blanket draped over her and twiddled her fingers lightly.

"He was indeed an awful man, Kale." She sighed. "They had been partners for so long, I have no idea what could have given him the impulse to throw Toshi out of the airship like that. But be assure it could have never been a just cause."

After a few moments of silence, a door swung shut and the Al Bhed returned to the counter.

"You're in luck there's two left."

"Thanks, Rin," She called as she collected them. "Say, Rin, this girl tells me she was in that freak Sin attack in Luca." Her voice hushed suddenly, "it seems her father, and only guardian perished. She's an orphan."

The Al Bhed seemed confused.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, want me to take her Kilika Temple?"

"Oh Kimonochi, that place is every child's nightmare."

"Well you can't keep her here forever."

"True."

"It's the only place she can go anyway, not like there's a choice, don't worry they'll keep her safe and it'll only be for the next twelve years or so."

The Al Bhed cringed.

"Twelve years out of your life isn't that long, Rin."

"Well fine but make sure she stays safe, you should have seen it when she first arrived, I'm telling you Kimonochi, I've never seen anything like it."

"Alright, glad we've come to an agreement."

With that, she'd been swept away and now she was here, advancing on this 'Kilika Temple'. She'd never been far out of Luca herself but she'd always heard travellers on the docks speaking of those secluded islands scattered around the coasts of Spira. As she wandered through the humid foliage this place did not seem nightmarish in the slightest, in fact it appeared quite pleasant.

"Right," Kimonochi sighed, "just up these stairs and that's it, come on now."

The stairs were of stone, and the erosion on them from battering winds and rain had caused them to steepen dramatically. This proved troublesome for Rosette, as she feared she would tumble down with each step, Kimonochi had offered to carry her but she had refused, still not entirely trustworthy of this new acquaintance no matter how friendly she seemed. However the pair overcame this obstacle and within a few minutes or so they had reached the peak.

Kimonochi took a warm hold on Rosette's tiny hand once more as they approached three figures, all rather tall and slender.

Kimonochi cleared her throat.

"Masahiro?" She called.

The nearest of the figures stepped forward. He was a peculiar looking man; he had a curvy face with a lengthy forehead, probably because the hair at the front of his head had begun to fall out. His torso was wide and shoulder's great but he did not possess that prominent masculinity most men with broad chests have. In conjunction his legs almost appeared to be too short for his body, causing him to look unbalanced when he walked. He wore neatly cut and pressed beige trousers, rare for monks, with well polished, brown shoes made of what looked to be shoopuf hide. On his upper half, a baggy but amazingly uncreased kimono shirt, which included a long hood that drooped down his back. The material for this was a rich, emerald green, and held gorgeous patterns of wild flower and notably the grand symbol of Yevon.

"Good evening." Kimonochi smiled, Masahiro simply nodded. "I've brought a new addition, this is Rosette."

She pulled lightly on Rosette's hand so she was in front, the monk bent down a bit and stared the little one in the eyes.

"Rosette? Meaning 'little rose', correct?"

"Y-yes, hello, sir."

He sniffed.

"What is your full name? Who were your parents? Where are you from?"

"I'm from Luca, sir. My parents were Toshi Shimei and Clément Leblanc."

"So I am to assume that you are Rosette Leblanc?"

"Yes, sir."

He sniffed again.

"Very well."

"So you'll take her?" Kimonochi asked.

Masahiro did not respond but reached out a skinny hand to grip Rosette's round face, cupping her chin and pressing her flushed cheeks together.

"Pretty, little thing, isn't she?" He slurred.

"Masahiro?"

"Beautiful, brown eyes"

"Masahiro? Did you hear me?"

"Rosebud lips."

"I asked if she could stay?"

"Silky skin and smooth complexion."

"Is that a yes?"

"Soft, golden hair, possesses a lovely shine too, her looks could rival the most attractive of brides."

"Will you answer the question, I can't stay long!"

Masahiro raised his eyes and glared at the woman in white.

"Yes," he said finally, "she can stay."

"Good." Kimonochi sighed.

"But her hair can't. Vermundo? Do you have a knife on you?"

"What? What's going on?" Kimonochi stepped forward to place a hand on Rosette's shoulder.

"You see, Kimonochi, she is indeed a very lovely looking child, but this, this can invoke vanity which is a very unattractive attribute in women. It causes them to be unruly and disobedient."

"Girls aren't dogs, Masahiro."

"Well maybe in your view, but here I'm afraid we don't expect much of our youths. Girls are simply predicted marriage when they leave here and that is all."

"But they have rights to be in Yevon or any other occupation if they wish."

"Yevon isn't interested, Kimonochi, the boys are only sent to Yevon."

Kimonochi guffawed, insulted.

"So you're saying I'm not really part of the Yevonites?"

"You are a rare case." He replied, Kimonochi scowled at the monk. "Now this young girl, I can't skin her, nor gauge out her eyes, or tear off her lips. But I can cut off her hair."

At that moment, Masahiro snatched up Rosette's arm and pushed her to the ground. She could hear Kimonochi yell something but it was unclear what it was.

"Kimonochi step back, you know the rules!" The monk retorted as he gripped the blonde strands tight in his hand.

Rosette saw the flash of a long danger and squeezed her eyes tight shut. There came a peculiar ripping sound, as well as pin prick like nips to her head, it went on for some time. He obviously was forced to hack though several thick layers but in no way did he do this gently, he tugged and tore at the hair which pinched at Rosette's scalp.

"How much are you cutting off? Surely that's enough!"

"Just a bit more." He sliced a few more times, "there."

Rosette's hands (which she'd clasped over her eyes) slowly slipped from her face and dropped to the floor. Shimmering, bleached lines littered the stone, almost as if it had rained gold. A few, dead rose petals sadly scattered over the puddles.

"Stand up."

She did so without thinking.

"Take her inside and tell the older girls to fetch her a uniform."

"Actually, Masahiro, I wish to take her inside-"

"You may leave now."

Kimonochi stood still; she did not speak but only looked at Rosette anxiously.

"Fine, I should return within the next fortnight."

"Very well."

The white woman turned on her heals and strode away.

Rosette was confused; she'd been abandoned, again. She actually felt rather betrayed, dragged by this 'saviour' from a sanctuary to some dark halls that housed dark figures. The atmosphere within the temple (she was being lead through by one of the two monks, not Vermundo, but the other) was cold and icy, and the tapestry's eyes seemed to stare at the tiny stranger that was she.

She'd been taken from the dusky courtyard, up yet another flight of stairs (which appeared at first to lead up into the trees), across the temple's elegant entrance and down even more steps to the dimly lit corridor, which they were just completing.

The monk grasped one of the thick, richly engraved handles of the patterned door before them, and slid it open so there was only enough room for the two of them to enter one at a time. He went first, not even giving her a glance and then she snuck through before he repositioned the door.

"Quickly, this way." He groused, it had been the first time he had spoken to her.

He headed towards the left of the room, this being a gorgeous room, garnished with exquisite colours (though a bit bleak in tone) and holding six, hand-carved, limestone statues of historical figures Rosette had never seen before. She scampered after the monk, struggling to keep up with his wide strides. He accessed another set of doors, this time a deep, oak, varnish coat lay thick upon them. Rosette squeezed through after him, as she had done before and now found herself standing in a slightly smaller than average sized room.

This chamber had wooden walls and a wooden walkway all around it's edge (also varnished), the pit in the middle was lined to the brink with stiff-bristled and itchy looking, beige tatami mats. At the far wall of the room there was a wide shoji and sitting neatly before it, on a smooth, grey zabuton, was a young woman in her late teens, clad from head to toe in a simple, but beautiful kimono. It was royal red, with a white lining around the sleeves and base, designed in a simple pattern of several depictions of the Yevon symbol. One could just see her nagajuban peeking out the top of the kimono rim, it was strangely thin and worn and its bright white colour had faded to a strange tone that reminded Rosette of a mushroom. A thick, black obi was tied too tight around her waist so the mid section of the fabric was roughly creased and with no mae-ita or datejime to give it shape, it fell sluggishly at the back, perfect for ruining the image. Finally there was a single piece of kanzashi; a hairpin, this held a string of about eight, gold beads and one jade stone on the end.

"Aika!" The call from the monk surprised the dreamy girl. "Where are the rest of the girls?"

She put a stumpy finger delicately against her plum-painted lips.

"Hiromi and Chi are reorganising the closet I believe, because we got some new hakama and geta in today," her voice was wishy-washy and irritatingly unspecific. "Fuji is upstairs fetching thread because that Lovise girl ripped her susoyoke again. Oh that reminds me Junko is with Okuriya-sensai, practicing for tea ceremony. Hmm, I don't know where Maki or Setsuko have gone though, oh well, you can't expect me to remember everything."

"No of course not." The monk spoke, sarcastic as Hell. "Take this young thing and get her a uniform will you."

"Sure, sure whatever you say."

"You'll never make a decent bride, Aika-chan, with such a disrespectful attitude like that."

"Okuriya-sensai begs to differ." She bit her finger flirtatiously; the monk smiled and took his leave.

"Now, you." This Aika announced as she arose gracefully. "Let me see, come here."

Rosette approached shyly, the young woman grabbed her by the shoulders.

"My word you are tiny, much smaller than the other girls." She spun her round, then stopped to pat Rosette's waist a few times. "Of how many years are you? And what do they call you?"

"Rosette Leblanc and I'm four." She paused, "Aika-san."

"Four? We've only had younger on rare occasions, oh and it's Aika-senpai to you," there was a beat, "Rosette-kohai."

Senpai and kohai here means that of one student addressing another. Senpai, a title used obviously from junior towards senior and kohai the reverse. Although the title gave Rosette a spark of excitement, that she too would be made up to look just as pretty, kohai was a rather patronising caption on her and she did not take kindly to this girl being her superior even though this status was clear from the beginning.

"A size five I think, though we may need to pin it." She sauntered towards the shoji. "Hiromi!!!" It exerted her mouth at a high-pitched shriek that would awake the laziest of fiends.

"What?" The shoji flew open and another young, pudgy woman in identical attire (although her hair pin held no jade and only six beads) was perched in the frame with a grouchy scowl.

"This girl needs a size five."

Hiromi looked over at Rosette with a bored glaze in her eye.

"What colour?" She asked inertly.

"Er…"

"You didn't ask? Oh Aika-san you are useless."

"Nikosana didn't say. Just get her the usual."

"Well, what's your definition of the usual?"

"Umm," she glanced at Rosette, who was standing abandoned in the centre of the room. "A plain susoyoke, doesn't need to be anything special no one is going to see it, unless of course you're a little slut."

Rosette slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes widened to an incredible size. Never before had she heard such language used, well that was a lie, living in Luca she obviously did from time to time but her father had always ensured her this was filthy, unneeded speech and should not be repeated. Besides, she was four! What in Spira did this woman expect her to do? What was this place like if such things were to be assumed of infants?

The woman smiled, she found it so entertaining to tease the young ones.

"A nagajuban, white again," she continued.

"You sure she'll need both? She's only small."

They both eyed Rosette for a moment.

"Yes you have a point, Hiromi-san. Hmm, ok loose the nagajuban, she's got no breasts to cover or anything, the susoyoke can double as underwear. A white kimono shirt, red hakama, make that a size four in fact, don't want the ends ripping under her ungainly feet and a red obi to match."

"Gotcha," the other woman turned to leave, "oh, footwear? Kanzashi?"

"Ugh! No! This runt doesn't deserve any kanzashi! Hiromi-san what are you thinking?"

"That fringe," she pointed, "it'll really wind the monks up if we simply leave it be."

"Fine, fine, get her a hair band or something."

"Feet?"

Aika yawned.

"Oh, we'll sort that out after she's dressed."

Hiromi scuttled away into the confines of the room behind the shoji. Leaning to one side, Rosette saw that this wasn't a room at all but a huge wardrobe, approximately half the size of the room she was currently standing in. It had many shelves, cupboards and compartments, which Hiromi was rummaging through, retrieving the chosen items. There was another woman with her, in contrast she was extremely bony with a pinched face, Rosette assumed that this was Chi.

"Here we are."

Both Aika and Hiromi descended into the pit and laid out the attire on the mats. Aika took up the susoyoke first.

"Alright, well, take off your clothes this isn't an overdress."

"Can't I just wear this?"

Aika hesitated, then gurgled, which slurred into a barking laugh.

"Oh dear, of course not. What would be the point? It would just get torn off anyway, the other girls would rip you to shreds with envy."

Although what Rosette was wearing was not at all elegant or royal, it was very likely the other inhabitants would conceive it as a luxury. It was a simple silk dress of violet, with a turquoise stone button at the neck and a yellow sash round the waist, not to mention a dainty pare of zori, which had a simple sequin design sewn into them.

With a heavy sigh, Rosette began to unbutton herself.

"Do you have to watch?"

"You've got nothing we haven't seen before." Hiromi chuckled.

It was extremely uncomfortable but Rosette managed to remove all her garments, though she insisted on leaving her underclothes on much to the anguish groans and tuts of the older girls.

"You'll keep my clothes safe?"

Aika snatched up the dress and sash and snorted loudly.

"Why would we do a thing like that? You won't be permitted to wear it while you're here and it won't fit you in twelve years time now, will it?"

"But-but," Rosette was oddly surprised, "what about days out or weekends?"

Hiromi nearly cracked her jaw from laughing so hard and Aika was grasping her ribs and struggling to breathe.

"There are no days out for anyone here, and weekends? You don't want much. Aika is the only person who's been out of the temple grounds and that's only been once, when Okuriya-sensei was sick with flu and couldn't pick up the order herself."

"Now shut up and put out your arms, properly mind, mercy you're shy."

Aika draped the fabric over Rosette and allowed it to hang loosely off her small frame, it was rather nice and although the cloth was thin and wiry compared to what the seniors wore, it was breathable and strong. Hiromi came from the other side to wrap the shirt around her also, pinning it temporarily in the centre so it held while they applied the rest.

"I hope you're paying attention," Aika said, "because this is the only time you'll be dressed, tomorrow when you awake you'll have to do it yourself."

"Yes, Aika-senpai." She responded, awed by the garments.

Aika grabbed the hakama, which was of a bright scarlet, though unlike the kimono material of the elder girls, this did not shimmer in the light, nor did the kimono shirt, it was very basic. This she pulled firmly around Rosette's waist then pushed it right up so it was positioned just under her breastbone.

"It's a little tight."

"That's how it's supposed to be," Aika answered, not really listening, "Hiromi, quickly, hand me the obi and some pins."

The other woman did so and Rosette felt something pull taught around her middle, so much in fact that she gasped a little. She stood there for some time afterwards as Aika locked the fabric into place with the pins, grumbling and cussing as she went.

"There, done and thank Yevon too."

Hiromi promptly slipped a red headband into Rosette's scruffy hair and then both women stepped back to admire their work.

"That hair needs fixing, Hiromi-san."

"I couldn't get it all back behind the band."

"It'll have to do then."

"We could use some wax to stick it back."

"Ooh I can't be bothered, besides do you know how much that would cost to supply her with wax every month. Masahiro-sama would throw a fit."

"I suppose you're right." Hiromi breathed. "I was thinking, perhaps we should get Fuji to re-sew it, I mean it's got to last, pins surely won't do."

"What a waste of thread." Aika moaned.

"Aika."

"Fine. But not now it's too late for my liking. Rosette-kohai, come tomorrow, about sunset and I'll get Fuji or one of the others to sew it up."

"Yes, Aika-senpai." She gave a conserved, little bow.

Hiromi clapped her plump hands together.

"Right, feet."

"Oh Yevon I forgot about that. Just, ooh…"

It was clear Aika was growing tired and agitated, her lulling mind was loosing concentration rapidly and no longer did she wish to focus on such typical matters.

"Just go get her a wooden pair of geta and have done with it."

"We won't have any geta to fit her feet."

"What?" This whine came from the back of her throat, making her rasp and sound like some farm animal suffering from illness. Not at all lady-like.

"We only stock them size three and up. Look at her, she's barely a single size and I'm not going to waste my time getting sizes brought in specially for her."

"Well…don't just stand there, go see what you can find!"

Hiromi gave Aika an irritated sneer then left pouting, meanwhile Aika simply put her eyes to the floor and rubbed her temple gently.

Rosette remained obedient and stood still in the middle of the chamber, though it took Hiromi longer than expected (one could here her ranting to Chi from the dark of the closet). She had tried to kneel down at one point to save her energy but Aika tapped her sharply on the head and told her to desist. Aika was rather amusing to watch as she pursed her lips and batted her make-up caked eyelashes; at one point she did something that caused Rosette to giggle inwardly. Aika had positioned her hands (tardily mind) in front of her so her right hand was out to her side and the other was before her waist, swaying up and down slightly and in doing this strange pose she had quietly hummed an out-of-tune melody.

Hiromi returned, holding a flimsy pair of slip-on, split-toe shoes in one hand, red again.

"These were all we could find."

"Hmm, yes, they'll do nicely," she flung them on the floor in front of Rosette, "ok put them on."

She did as she was told, admittedly these were quite a bit too big for her feet but Rosette did not wish to cause any more inconveniences. The brides-in-training stepped back once again to see the final image, however this time Chi joined also.

"Are you sure that'll all hold?" She spoke groggily.

"We just went over that Chi-san, we're going to sew it!" Hiromi snapped.

"Goodness, I'm sorry, not my fault I was left to stock the deliveries alone now was it?"

"Oh I don't care anymore," Aika moaned throwing her lanky arms in the air, "she's fine, done. Ring the bell and someone will come and collect her, I want her out of my sight."

Hiromi trudged to the right of the room and began to rattle a large, gold-plated bell hanging on the top part of the wall.

"Here."

Some huge, white thing was tossed right in Rosette's face and she spluttered for a moment. Removing it and holding it up before her she saw it was a large under dress of some form, which could be tied round the neck with cords.

"That's your nightwear," Chi droned, "use it as a bathrobe too."

Rosette was finally permitted to seat herself on the mat, considering it had been nearly fifteen minutes and still no one had come for her.

"For the love of all that is holy!" Hiromi swore as she went for the bell again. She yanked the rope hard and shook it with force. "Come on!"

Suddenly there came a sound from behind the oak door, a chattering noise of someone mumbling foully in a drunken voice.

"Oh dear." Chi exclaimed. "Now you've done it."

The door burst open and a short black figure entered, swinging a rusty lantern in one hand.

"In the name of fayth, Yevon and the great beyond, what the hell's going on?!"

The figure brought the lantern up to its face and Rosette identified it as a prune with eyes. This woman was short and dumpy but looking at her arms it could be assumed she was very slender in her youth; it was only her middle that held large quantities of fat. Her face, her face looked like it had melted, all the skin drooped down past her jaw and her mouth was a constant frown, plus a squat almost pig-like nose and tiny beetle eyes that flashed menacingly. She came forward into the light a bit more, her hips jutted forward awkwardly, so she could only move at a slow, ungainly waddle.

"I complete Junko's horrendous tea ceremony not only twenty minutes ago, so I decide it is time to retire after a hard day. I lay my head down to rest and what's the first thing that strikes my ear? The bloody ding-a-ling of that blasted bell! And my own girls shrilling!"

"We are sorry, Okuriya-sensei, please we only needed someone to collect this new girl." Chi bowed deeply.

"Girl? What girl?" Okuriya mumbled, her great jowls wobbling.

"T-that would be me, Okuriya-sensei."

The old woman stared down at the thing that had addressed her. Rosette was halfway between sitting and standing, with one hand raised to bring attention to herself.

"I see," she nodded, "hmm, she's rather pretty isn't she."

"Yeah, for a rat." Aika jived.

"Shut your trap you pig! Men of Yevon do not smile upon jealousy."

"Jealousy?!"

"Silence!" Okuriya came into the pit (with some difficulty though) and stood next to Rosette. "She's got lovely eyes, and perfect skin, a nice canvas indeed. Let us hope she keeps these features as she grows, yes? That way it'll be much easier to turn ugly duckling into swan."

Rosette was not sure what the old shrew meant by this but got to her feet all the same and prepared herself to follow.

"Come. I'll take you to your room, did Masahiro say where he wanted her to stay?"

"Masahiro didn't bring her here, Nikosana did." Hiromi answered saucily.

"Ugh! Pointless man!" The hag bellowed. "No matter, I'll just take her to the girl's dorms. By the way, tell Junko I want to see her first thing tomorrow morning, we're going to get this tea ceremony right if it takes me too the farplane."

"Where is she now?" Chi inquired.

"Out on the steps crying probably. Stupid girl split the usucha all over my futon."

Chi cringed.

It was a minuscule room, with six beds jammed together so one could not walk between them without holding in every ounce of breath in their body. Okuriya-sensei had lead Rosette to the far east of the building and up two flights of stairs until they finally found a vacant bed. She had then left Rosette, taking her lantern with her and now she sat in the dark wearing her enlarged nightgown, on the edge of her bed near the window.

Rosette had opened the shutters of the window gently (there was no glass) so she could see out over the forest and into the sky. It was cold tonight, strange as it was so cloudy; the moon only peeked out when the heavens allowed it. Perhaps this was a sign, that her father had followed her and was now watching her, but she didn't like to think of that.

She had been rushed around so much that day and exposed to so many new experiences that she had had no time to herself to reflect. True, she had had the time at the travel agents to think over the consequences of her father's choice of separation, but no time to consider the events of a new home. It was all quite a blur in her mind really; indeed she was upset but far too tired to cry. Her head ached and her face felt dry.

She placed her head down on the pillow, soft enough she supposed, though not like her bed used to be. That's when a tear slipped down a cheek as she remembered how this all started, in bed, it began that morning, the sun had already risen by the time her father had rapped upon her door and quietly called for her to awake…