No reviews yet, but I'm patient. Still, they make me write faster ;)

There were few of my friends who wondered how a ten year old girl can talk back to adults like that; It IS possible. My sister's best friend has a niece that is only two years old and she can backchat you amazingly well. Kids grow up so fast sometimes it's scary.

And to answer other question that might come: yes, some of the original FFX and later FFX-2 characters will appear in the story. Still, only two of them will play bigger role, others will appear only in the background.

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Part I

Chapter 2 - Close-minded

"What did you say?!" Ira yelled, as she lunged forward, nearly grabbing her target by the collar of his scruffy shirt. She was fuming, hands balled tightly into fists as she fought the urge to rip his head off. "Take that back!"

The boy she was facing was around her age, maybe a little bit older. He was taller and Ira cursed her short height. He had spiky dark red hair and wore the training suit that all the warrior monk apprentices did. His name was Amarant and he was one of the best trainees in the temple's teaching squads.

"I said" He replied with another smirk. "That you are a weakling. You could never reach to our level. But..." He waved his hand dismissively "If you apologize now, maybe I can allow you to serve me, once we finish our training."

This was all she could take and with raged scream she had thrown her full weight on the boy, who didn't really expect the attack. They stumbled on the ground and as other apprentices were chanting his name, Ira punched him hard. She felt his lips tear over his own teeth and that only made her attack him harder, her senses and blood singing in joy. Still, Amarant had sobered from the initial shock in matter of seconds and grabbed her striking arm, his other fist hitting her in her stomach.

She yelped in pain and held on, but a strong kick from her right forced her to shift her balance in avoiding the attack. That caused them roll on the ground, each refusing to let go or allow the other to top. Ira punched him again, the blow falling on his jaw but it didn't really cause any serious damage. He laughed, the other boys cheering for him, as he grabbed her red and white hair and yanked it back, until he was sure none of her hits could reach him. That hurt, but even when she tried to kick him again, he pinned her to ground and all in all, further struggling was futile.

"Let go of me!" She yelled trough the cheering voices, feeling the tears of humiliation forming in her eyes but refused to let them fall down. "Let go of me, you bastard!"

"Tsk, tsk. Watch your language, wench." Amarant's friends laughed and she felt an urge to wipe that smirks of their faces.

She never really asked for much. Neither for their acceptance, nor recognition for her developing skills. All she wanted to do was to tag along with one of the training squads and become a warrior. Ira had found it unfair that the only thing a female could do in the temple was to serve priests and battle monks and pray at the ceremonies.

"Let me go!" She struggled again against the hands holding her down and fingers yanking at her hair. If she could have only one chance, one moment where his defenses would be down...

"Not until you apologize." Amarant had wiped his bleeding lip on his sleeve. "And until you admit that you're nothing but a weakling."

"Never!"

"Say it!" He pulled her hair harder and this time, it hurt enough to make her scream in pain. Few strands of red and white hair were pulled out with the roots and tangled in his fingers.

"Fuck you!" She yelled, even though she was dangerously close to crying.

"What is the meaning of this?

A deep baritone ran trough the air as the trainee boys fell silent and only faint murmurs could be heard. A hand fell on Amarant's shoulder before he could react to the new presence. Once the pressure on her back was lifted, Ira had sprung on her feet, ready to fight back if anyone dared to strike at her again.

But no further attack came; Amarant was held back and other boys didn't dare to move, now that they weren't alone.

The man who kept a steel grip on Amarant's arm was tall, taller then most of the monks she had seen in the temple. He was wearing dark pants, boots and chest armor, and a red coat on top of everything. His raven black hair sported few streaks of white and it was tied in a loose ponytail.

She had a vague feeling that she had seen him somewhere before, but she could not recall his face even if her life depended on it.

"I asked you a question." The man looked over the apprentices. "What is the meaning of this?"

Amarant squirmed in his grip, but the fingers held his arm in almost painful vice grip.

"She's the one who started it." He whined, some of his friends nodding a little too eagerly. Ira felt her mouth open in surprise.

"Bullshit!" She yelled, surprising the robe-clad man with her language. "You started to call me names first, you asshole!"

She winced as she tried to scowl, the side of her face was growing numb from the last blow that fell on her. Thin scratches on her other cheek were stinging, but she willed the pain away.

The raven-haired monk looked at her, his intense gaze making her slightly uncomfortable. Then he shifted his eyes back to the group of boys. He had heard them chanting Amarant's name earlier, heard screaming and sounds of fight. The boy in his grip was currently sporting a split lip and quite colorful set of bruises. Was it really this one girl that had put him into that state?

There was something in her eyes that made him stop and think twice of what he was about to say, something he hasn't seen in quite long time. A silent plea for support, almost begging him to believe her, not them, not the ones that have been tormenting her.

"If you are alright then return to the temple. I'm afraid my squad can be quite unpredictable."

His squad? Ira raised her thin eyebrows slightly. That meant that he was an instructor? She knew the teacher of Amarant's group... they must have switched. Whatever the reason was, Ira didn't really care. He acted the same way as all of the others, sending her back to the temple, favoring boys even if the truth was on her side.

The man stared at her expectantly when she just continued to stare at him, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" He asked, quite amused by the look on her face when the question had caught her off guard.

"No, Sir." The last word sounded almost like an insult and she dusted off her clothes and left, casting one last nasty glance at the trainees.

The man looked after her until she disappeared from his range of sight, only then releasing Amarant's arm. The red-haired boy rubbed his sore limb a little, trying to bring back full blood circulation.

"Stupid wench." He spat at direction where Ira had left, scowling at the thought of this girl splitting his lip. He didn't expect the hand that smacked him heavily over his head.

"Ow!" He whined, covering his head. "Sir Auron, what was that for?"

"You watch your language." The monk growled, turning his angry gaze at his students. None of them looked as confident as they had been a minute ago, when Amarant was beating up that girl demon. "All of you, ten laps around the temple. Move!"

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Ira kneeled near her bunk bed in girl's dormitory as she placed her small mirror - that was unfortunately fractured in the middle – on her covers and tried to look at her face from proper angle. Though it was not very clear, she could see dark bruise forming on the right side of her head where Amarant had pulled her hair, as well as swollen ring of dark tissue that circled her eye.

"Well, that's just peachy." She winced as she touched her black eye. Now each time she will face Amarant until it was gone he will smirk at her. Like he had any reason to be victorious, she had smashed his lip pretty well herself. Ira smiled as she remembered his surprised expression when she had punched him.

"Oh dear Yevon, what in the name of heavens happened to you?!"

The girl winced again at the high-pitched shriek that had pierced her ears. Lady Mathia, the maiden in head of girls training had spotted her as she passed the dormitory and now ran to her side, twisting her head painfully so she could have a closer look on Ira's black eye.

"I got into a fight." The red-haired girl shrugged and shook off her bony fingers. "No big deal."

"No big deal? NO BIG DEAL?!" Another shriek. Ira had long ago noticed that Lady Mathia was one skinny drama-queen. "How many times have I told you NOT to go to boys? They don't want us to meddle in their business and your place is here, inside the temple! You missed another meeting and two more practices. How am I supposed to teach you when you don't even attend the classes?"

"You don't have to." Ira put her mirror away and washed the dirt of her face in the water basin that every dormitory provided. "I'm not interested anyway."

"What is Mayster going to say?" Mathia psyched out as Ira continued to ignore her. "It's my responsibility to raise you here, you can't just—"

"Sorry, I'm kinda busy." The girl interrupted her in her mid sentence and passed the surprised woman to go outside the temple. "I have some training to do."

Mathia looked like she was about to yell after her or explode on the spot. She settled for fainting theatrically and collapse into the arms of first nearby battle monk.

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The next few days passed rather quietly as for the usually lively Bevelle temple. There had been minor quarrels only a few times and, just as Ira and Amarant started to throw punches at each other again, they were separated by displeased Auron and a pissed off Lorell. She had to go trough another lecture from the high priest, obviously as bored of the procedure as Ira was.

Less than a week later, Mathia snatched her by the collar of her shirt as Ira tried to sneak past her. The teaching maiden had literally dragged the trashing girl with her, guiding her into the class where all other girls waited. Lady Mathia threw Ira inside, locking the door behind her with heavy copper key.

"Now that we are all here," Mathia gasped from the previous exercise that Ira ever so kindly decided to give her. "Let's continue with previous class subject. That would be the incenses and offerings." She stared at the red-haired girl.

"Oh, lovely." Ira rolled her eyes as she mocked her in honey-sweet voice. Few girls giggled, but the older maiden had sent them an angry glare. Ira took the farthest seat possible, settling in the windowed corner of the room and tried hard to look as bored as she really felt.

"I don't understand why you don't like these classes so much." A brown-haired girl in green robe on her right side whispered to her good half a hour later, once Mathia was so into her lecture that she didn't pay much attention to rest of the world. Ira raised her eyebrows as she tried to remember the girl's name. She couldn't recall it, which meant she was as unimportant as rest of people. "And I seriously don't get why you find the fighting so appealing."

"Why not?" She whispered back, deciding that teasing the girl would surely provide more entertainment then Mathia's rambling, if she had to suffer trough the whole class. "It's better then this shit."

The brunette winced at her choice of words, but decided to say nothing about it.

"These practices can be fun too, you know?" Ira snorted. She really tried to convince her it was actually worth her time. "You get to learn some fun things. I for once, really like ikebana classes."

Ira laughed, the sound muffled by her hand as she tried hard not to catch the attention of their instructor.

"Tell me" Ira wondered aloud, her tone amused. "Will the ikebana teach you how to defend yourself in the battle? Will the incense knowledge help you gut down your dinner that you had just hunted down, still warm and twitching?" Oh how she enjoyed the look of disgust on the girl's face.

"Not all of us have to fight."

"I know. And not all of us have to be maidens. I don't." Ira shrugged, leaning over her desk. A tall tree behind the window by her left side caught her attention. It's branches reached the window's level, but were a bit far to reach them freely...

"And besides, doesn't fighting... hurt?" The brunette scowled lightly at the thought.

"You're kidding, right?" Ira looked at her quizzically. "Yes, it hurts. Yes, you get to be hit and hit others, your clothes get dirty, your nails break. So what? What's your name anyway?"

"It's Shelinda."

"Well, Shelinda, tell me, do you really want to spend your whole life serving others?" The redhead mused, as she looked over the window. "There is a whole wide world there, do you really want to stay here for your whole life, serving coffee and tea to men and listen as they humiliate you? Where they don't even want you?"

There was something strange in her tone that made Shelinda wonder. She didn't know the strange girl too well, but there was some kind of... longing in her voice. This was slightly awkward to her, since the 'demon girl' as others tended to call her didn't act like a girl at all.

"Ira!" Lady Mathia called to her and the redhead snapped back to reality, her head turning fast towards the instructor. "You're not paying attention at all! What I have said a moment ago?"

Ira stood up from her seat and crossed her thin arms on her flat chest. She made a weird expression, as if thinking over something deeply.

"That you are really awful as a teacher? Please, Lady Mathia, you can always resign. I'm sure nobody will hold grudge against you." Some of the students laughed, as they watched their instructor turn a lovely shade of bright red. "I know I won't." Ira added cheerfully.

"Get over here, right now!" Mathia yelled, as she stomped heavily into her direction. But the girl was quicker, and she had already placed one foot on the edge of the window.

"Sorry, can't do. I was just leaving." She glanced once more on the ground below and decided it was now or never. Putting all the strength into her legs as she possible could, Ira jumped.

"Oh shiiiiit!" She yelled, as her hands trashed wildly to find the support of the nearest branch. She could hear Mathia's scream of surprise and horror and then a low thud as she fainted yet again. Shelinda staring at her open mouthed as Ira was hanging from the branch she grabbed in last possible second.

"You see" The crazy redhead swayed until she could hook her legs over the branch and twist her body around, so she was hanging no more but sitting quite comfortably. "Serving all of those old farts in this temple is not my dream. I'm not afraid to do anything I can to reach for my own dream."

With that, she slipped down to another, lower branch, and then another, until it was safe for her to jump down. She ran into Yevon knew what direction, leaving the puzzled Shelinda behind.