A small girl sat alone in a wooden hut. It had been a few weeks since her mother's death, but to her, it had only been a few days. Her father was with her aunt and her new little brother in her aunt's house. She was helping him with the baby. He knew what to do, of course, but this time, he was doing it alone.
After he left, Sango put her plan into action. Quietly, so as not to disturb her father next door, she went to his clothes chest. His suit of armor was there, and Sango knew all about taijiya suits of armor. She knew that they were designed individually for each taijiya. She knew that they held great cultural significance for her people. And she also knew that they had secret weapons concealed in every conceivable place.
Once she had detached her father's hidden wrist blade from its holder, she untied her hair and smoothed out two long sections in front, one on each side of her face.
She rolled the small bone knife in her hands, holding it different ways find the best grip. Finally, she settled on one. Grabbing a section, she pulled it taut and began to hack away at it.
Strands broke slowly until the fistful of hair she was holding was no longer attached to the rest of it. The part still on her head was frizzy and uneven. She dropped the loose hair on her lap and switched the knife to her other hand. She grabbed at the other section.
"SANGO!"
A large hand grabbed her wrist, pulling the knife away from her hair. Her father had returned.
"What are you doing?" he demanded.
"I wanted to look like Mama."
Her voice was as tiny as she was. Sango looked away, hanging her head. Her father released her. She heard him walk away. Sango sat motionless, blinking back tears.
But then her father was back, kneeling in front of her. He put his hand under her chin, drawing her face up to look at his.
"That's not the way to do it. Here."
He was holding a pair of scissors.
Silently, he straightened out her messy first attempt at hair bunches. Then he moved to the other side and cut it equal to the first bunch.
Sango reached up and felt the bunches. They fell down before her ears and stopped just past the lobes. She patted them, fluffing up the ends.
"Is that all right?" her father asked quietly.
"Yes," Sango said. She patted her hair once more. She smiled.