A/N: It's been way too long, I know. This is still a backburner story, but I'm gonna try and update more often. I'm still working out the kinks, and it's been a long time since I gave this story any attention, but let's see how we do! I'm shifting the youngest grade to 4th so Henrietta will have been there for a year already. Using an online English to Italian dictionary, I looked up "Boy." That's the title to this chapter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gunslinger Girl, just this story.
Chapter Two: Rigazzo
Rico and Henrietta hurried outside to meet their friends, finding Claes and Triela already standing there. When attending official school functions, the institution had a uniform requirement.
As the girls greeted each other, other students strolled past on their way to opening ceremony. Triela tugged at her tan skirt, a frown on her face, "Ugh, I hate these stupid uniforms! Why can't we just wear pants?"
"It's not so bad, is it?" Henrietta smiled and twirled some, letting her pleated skirt flutter about her.
"Maybe for you. I hate having bare legs!" Knee high socks and fingertip length skirts left far too much thigh exposed for Triela's tastes.
"Well, it's the uniform." Claes sighed, "Anyway, we should get going. We don't want to be late."
The four set off toward the main school building, Rico skipping ahead, even the skirt not putting an end to the tomboy's exuberance as she balanced on every curb she could find. Chatting amongst themselves the group headed into the auditorium, where the teachers already sat in chairs arranged on stage. All save for Jean, which seemed a bit off.
Henrietta waved farewell to her friends for the moment, heading off to join the other girls in her year. Though the school supported grades four through twelve, the only time things were really strictly divided by these standards was during home rooms and assemblies.
Classes themselves tended to be assigned based on interests, level of experience, and skill. Of course, a fourth grader was unlikely to be in a class with a twelfth grader, but overlap certainly happened among closer age groups.
Triela and Rico were the next to split off, heading toward their seventh grade classmates. Claes offered them a small wave before heading for where her fellow sixth graders sat. Down the row she could see Angelica, and gave the girl a small smile, which was returned shyly.
Angelica wasn't a regular part of their group, but she would join them occasionally. So Claes would try to be kind.
The room was filled with murmurs as the girls spoke amongst themselves. Excitement and apprehension mixed with the downright disdain some of them felt for the school.
Triela, despite her tough attitude, was always excited to be here. It beat the group home she lived in during the off time. Beside her, Rico swung her legs back and forth, not really seeming to care where she was.
Henrietta was more than just excited, she loved this school. It was where Jose was, after all, and where she could play her violin to her heart's content.
Claes could sit for hours in the library, that was her sanctuary. She had never seen a place with more books. This was definitely a place she loved.
It was an escape for many of the students, yes. But there were those who didn't believe the teachers really meant to help them at all.
The room drifted into silence as the headmaster approached a podium on the stage, clearing his throat. The announcements went as they did every year. Students were expected to attend all their classes and counseling sessions, without fail; unless excused by a Residential Supervisor or other qualified faculty member. Fighting, particularly physically, was strictly prohibited outside of PE classes where martial arts were part of the curriculum. Curfew was in dorms 8:00 PM, lights out by 10:00 PM. Mealtimes were listed, and other general rules.
Then the headmaster cleared his throat, giving a tilt of his head toward Priscilla to indicate she had something to say. The perky Residential Supervisor smiled at the girls, "Okay, as usual, I will be meeting with all the students during the first week to work out schedules that suit your needs! That means the first week is a time to get to know each other. You might think only the fifth graders really need this time, but you'd be very wrong this year, because we have two transfers that are going to need some help adjusting. Jean, that's your cue!"
Jean proceeded to walk onto stage, practically shoving one boy and leading the other. The crowd of female students erupted into a variety of reactions. Outrage, nervousness, excitement, and more filled the room.
It was half an hour after Emilio had finished unpacking that a knock sounded at the door of the room he shared with the particularly broody boy. Since Pinocchio made no move to get it, the brunette rose from the lower bunk and opened the door to see Jean standing there. It seemed he was assigned to take care of them for now.
"Oh...um, hello, Mr..." Realizing he'd never gotten any of the staff's last names, Emilio wasn't sure how to address him.
"Just call me Jean...The school sees fit to encourage such behavior, so I've learned to go along with it," A strained sigh showed he'd rather not be on a first name basis with students. The blond man held out two boxes, one marked with each boy's name, "Here, there are three days worth of uniforms for each of you. When you need to clean them. The laundry is in the girl's dorm. Priscilla can help you with that. Be ready in half an hour, we need to head to opening ceremonies."
"Um," Emilio turned to his roommate as the teacher left, closing the door behind him, "Jean says-"
"Yeah, I heard him," Pinocchio jumped down from his bunk, holding out his hand with a frown. He didn't like the idea of having to go to the girl's dorm for anything, especially laundry, "So, give me my uniforms so I can get ready."
"Right," The more gentle boy was sweating nervously as he handed over the box containing his roommate's clothing. This was definitely going to be a long year.
It was exactly a half an hour later when Jean once more knocked on their door, Pinocchio answering this time. He and Emilio had changed into beige slacks, white shirts, beige jackets and red neck ties.
"Right, let's get this over with," this blond youth muttered, tugging slightly on his restricting tie. He trailed reluctantly after Jean; who was being questioned by a curious Emilio.
They took a back route to the school, one where the girls would be less likely to stumble upon them. And entered the auditorium directly into a backstage area.
"So, those are our classmates?" The more outgoing boy asked, peering out from his hidden position. Given the age range, obviously they wouldn't all be classmates, but some of them would.
Pinocchio took one look at the crowd of girls and froze, "We're the only guys up against that? No way!"
Jean cast a sideways glance at the petrified teen, "Are you scared of some little girls?"
"No!" The younger blond protested. But then they were being summoned to the stage. To his utter mortification Pinocchio found his legs locked in place.
"Well, move, then." The teacher gave the nervous boy a push and he stumbled onto the stage, followed by Jean and Emilio. Still wearing sunglasses the adult stepped up to the podium, "We're going to expand our horizons, girls. These two are just the first, so say hello to Pinocchio and Emilio."
The girls were gasping and murmuring. Emilio was a little nervous, but wanted to at least try making friends. The other boy, however, was sweating bullets. He just wasn't good with girls!
On their way back to the dorms Triela and her friends discussed the new development, "I can't believe this! How is it okay on any level to bring boys here! Ugh, these teachers are idiots!"
"Jose tried to stop them..." Henrietta reminded her friend, not liking her admired instructor lumped into the idiot category. And even though she had her own trauma with males, she thought this could be interesting, "But...maybe it won't be so bad..."
"Your going to have to deal with men eventually, Triela," Claes chimed in, "You can't hate them all forever."
"I don't hate them all!" Triela insisted, "Jose treats Henrietta well, and Hilshire is alright..."
"Well," Rico smiled as she walked backwards arms outstretched, "We'll just have to wait and see!""
"You can't really be that bad with girls," Emilio tried to offer as a comfort to Pinocchio. They were heading back to their dorm after the opening ceremony. There they could change back into regular clothing and explore campus some, "Come on, being stuck in the dorm all the time won't be any fun!"
"It has to be better than all those girls," The blond shuddered in reply, "They're weird. They look delicate, but can act tough...Then cry at the drop of a hat! I don't know how to act! So no thanks!"
As he was speaking the path they were on drew parallel to one full of girls returning to their own dorm. The two boys happened to glance over at the same time, meeting the sight of a group of four girls in particular. The most notable of which was a dark skinned blond who glared at them through fierce blue eyes, daring them to try something.
Pinocchio glared right back, a chill running down his spine, "See what I mean? That girl has some kind of problems!"
"That's why kids come here, isn't it?" Emilio replied, smiling and waving at one of the other group members who had been waving his way before the angry looking one pushed her hand down, "And, yeah...The one glaring was kind of scary...but I think her friend was pretty cute!"
This caused the other boy to gawk at him in horror. Girls...cute? "You're joking, right? Girls are insane...not cute!"
"Oh..." Emilio gave a nod, smiling gently, "Um...just so we're clear...I have no problem with it...but I like girls, so..."
Pinocchio blinked in confusion, "Huh?"
"You know..." The brunette offered a supportive smile, "Romantically."
"What? I don't," Pinocchio paused suddenly, grudgingly admitting to his companion for the next year, "I've never thought about it..."
"You mean you've never found anyone attractive before at all?" Emilio was incredulous, "Really? But you're my age, aren't you?"
"So?" The other snapped, "I've had more important things to worry about!"
"Alright, alright," Placating hands were held up in an attempt to calm the sudden anger of his roommate, "Sorry."
As the girls proceeded, making small talk, Triela was certain she felt someone looking at them. Turning, she spotted the two boys on a parallel path glancing their way. Her eyes narrowed into a glare, which was reciprocated by one of the males.
As her friends turned to see what she was looking at, Rico offered a friendly smile and a wave toward the two across from them, this was also returned by one as Triela leapt forward shoving Rico's hand back down.
"What are you doing?" The pigtailed girl growled, "You can't fraternise with the enemy!"
"The enemy?" Henrietta and Rico echoed as one.
"Yes! Boys! They don't belong here, they're the enemy!" Triela replied easily, flipping one blond bundle over her shoulder.
"Honestly," Claes chimed with a sigh, "Don't you think you're being too dramatic? They're just kids, like us."
"Poor, naive Claes," With a shake of her head the older girl sighed right back, "Boys are nothing like us."
With that she marched off ahead of them toward the dorm, casting one last glare across the grass toward the boys, who had started back up their own leisurely pace. A harsh glare once more met with her own.
The rest of the girls ambled after her, looking forward to getting into day clothes.
By the time Claes returned to their room, Triela had already gotten out of her uniform and into regular clothing. Stretching her lithe arms overhead, the faded blue, teddy bear emblazoned t-shirt she wore rising slightly with the action, she whirled away from the bunks to display a bright smile to her friend, "Ah, pants make everything more tolerable!"
"Even boys?" Claes questioned, doubting the dark wash denim clinging to the older girl's legs would change her view on that.
"No," The blonde frowned and wrinkled her nose, "But if I'm lucky, I won't have to deal with them, which is more tolerable...see? The wonder of pants!"
"Whatever you say," The bespectacled girl shook her head in bemusement, and set about changing her own clothes. Soon she wore an oversized t-shirt in plain purple with a knee length khaki skirt and purple leggins.
Now that they had changed, the two set off to see what Henrietta and Rico were up to. When Triela knocked on their door the former answered, wearing a white blouse similar to their uniform matched with a grey skirt and white ankle socks, "Come in!"
She stepped aside with a smile and allowed her friends entrance. Rico was sitting on the bottom bunk in a pair of tan shorts and a green t-shirt, "So, what do we do now? We have two hours til curfew."
"We could go to the library," Claes piped up, expecting the flat look she got from Triela, "Well, I'm going to the library. You girls have fun with your plans."
Rico and Henrietta smiled and waved farewell, they new that the library was always one of Claes' first stops. She liked to see what new books they had gotten over the break.
Picking up her violin case, the youngest of the group cast an apologetic look to their pigtails friend, "I'm sorry...I really should practice, now that I can...I think I'm going to head to the music room..."
"Oh! Can I come too!" Rico chimed, hopping off the bed and hurrying to Henrietta's side, "I lke hearing you play!"
"Um...sure," The brunette smiled at her roommate before turning her focus to the remaining girl, "You can come to, Triela!"
"No thanks," Trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice, Triela swept a pigtail over her shoulder, "I'll just go to the gym."
"Alright. If you're sure," The violinist gave a wave and a smile as the three parted ways.
When Triela reached the gym, stopping into the changing room briefly before emerging in sweatpants and a fitted shirt, she made her way to the training room. The first week of school was meant for adjusting to campus for new students, readjusting for returnees. It was a time to explore, and certain parts of buildings were open at certain times. Because the gym equipment was only allowed to be used under supervision, it's use was fairly limited to morning and evening hours. A trainer sat at the side of the room, there to help if needed,and otherwise keep an eye on students.
Working out was something Triela found she enjoyed. It helped relieve stress and pent up frustration. The girl wasn't the very muscular type, though she was tone. Sit ups, stretches, sometime a bit of weight lifting just to tone her biceps. Her favorite was the punching bag.
She was doing her warm up stretches as she let her mind wander slightly over where she might start. Suddenly the thud of fist on bag caught her ear. That was odd, since she was usually the only one who bothered to use the gym on the first evening.
A quick glance showed her the single trainer present was still in his spot along the wall. Curious, the pigtailed teen made her way through the maze of equipment to the large punching bag. Whoever was working it stood on the other side. At a cautious distance, she worked her way around far enough to see who she shared the room with, her eyes widened at the revelation.
There stood one of the boys who was invading their school for the year! He was so into his routine he didn't seem to notice her, a sheen of sweat on his brow, slicking strands of blonde to his face. He wore a black tank top with grey sweats, the silver boar necklace standing in gleaming contrast against his chest. Rather than boxing gloves, his fists were wrapped in athletic tape, much as she would have done.
Realizing she had been watching in silence for an unacceptable length of time, Triela cleared her throat. The boy's eye grew wide and he completely missed the bag, so thrown off was his focus. Off balance already he tried to turn so he could see the source of the noise and ended up landing on his but on the floor.
When Pinnocchio had been given a list of open facilities and a school map, the gym had seemed a natural option. He liked working out, and what were the odds of running into a girl who would be there of her own free will? It was safe.
But now here he was, sprawled embarrassingly on his ass on the floor, staring up at a girl who gave him a challenging glare, "What are you doing here?"
The spluttered response just earned a harsher glare, "Excuse me? This is my school! Your the intruder!"
"It's not like I want to be at this damn school!" Pinocchio retorted, narrowing his eyes back at her, "And I meant here, this is a gym..you're a...a..."
"A what," Triela hissed in challenge, hands on her hips, "A girl? So where should I be? Making pasta? I have as much right to this gym as some no good boy! You don't belong here!"
"I just didn't think girls were into this stuff," The response came as the new student lifted himself off the floor, folding his arms and glaring off to the side, "And I already said I don't want to be here! It's not like I get a choice!"
With a heated puff of agitation, the girl realized she really had no argument left against his presence. She whirled away from him, "Well I enjoy 'This stuff' so too bad for you. I'm not stopping just because some boy shows up."
She moved a cross the way, where another bag was hanging, and started her own workout, punches at first. The frustration she felt at the situation powered her attacks.
Trying to decide his course of action, Pinocchio watched her a moment. He really wasn't any good with girls, but if she was just going to go about her work out and pay him no mind, he could probably stay. He went back to his routine, getting back into the swing of things with a few simple punches. She was visible in the corner of his gaze as he continued, getting more rigorous, beginning to lash out at the bag with an occasional kick.
From her peripheral Triela saw the boy change up his movements. Not about to let him show her up, she added kicks of her own. She was pushing herself, fueled by spite. With every move he made, she tried to top him.
Eventually, Pinocchio became aware of her little game, and the anger behind it. His instructors in martial arts had often told him that letting emotion take control led to mistakes and made situations worse. Hindsight showed that when he fought, that was at least partly true. For whatever reason, the desire to beat this girl at her own game took hold. She was already a mess of angst, so he just had to keep his cool and go until she messed up.
And so it went, a sort of thrill taking hold of the boy as Triela began to make small errors at first. The more she messed up the more frustrated she became, the harder it became for her to concentrate. Finally an overpowered kick landed in such a way that the girl was knocked off balance. Tumbling with a complete lack of grace she fell hard on her back, the wind rushing out of her.
Coming to a standstill, Pinocchio looked down at her, breathing slightly heavy from his less vigorous exertion. In a much calmer voice than their earlier exchange he delivered an even toned, "Maybe you really should stay out of the gym..."
At that, he turned to leave, heading tho the staff locker rooms were he could quickly shower and change before heading back to his dorm. He left behind a disbelieving Triela who gawked only a moment before the expression shifted to a frustrated glare.
With a growl, she clamored to her feet, storming off to the changing room the students had always used. She had made up her mind now; if there had ever been any doubt it had been snuffed out. She hated boys...most particularly that blond punk...what had they called him? Pinocchio!
A/N 2: Ok, so I haven't read the manga, but I'm using a wiki to try to be as inclusive and such as possible. The site said Triela actually likes skirts...but I'm going to at least start with her feeling more confident in pants and thus preferring them.