Chapter 9
Fighting with people who are both larger, and stronger than you is always difficult. You have to be willing to go where it hurts, or learn to move.
Most of the other children learn this quickly, but there are always stragglers.
And they are why Tsuru's using the other children as shields, and attacking where she can.
"Keep in formation," the eldest of the second years yells, shoving the blond back towards her.
Tsuru dodges behind an annoyed Kaguya and snorts, adjusting his arm to aim for the boys weak side.
Then she's gone again, snapping at anothers ankle and that one's throat. Wooden staffs leaving only dark marks, and harsh sounds.
The second years growing less gleeful with each passing second.
0o0o0
Picking fights was encouraged among the children here.
Competition.
Tsuru watches Hoshigaki Ibara slam her fist into a member of the mountain clans, Genya. Chest heaving as he ducks and tries to use her movement to force the girl to the ground. The only way he'll win.
A few of the other children linger, watching them with eager eyes.
Children who's parents only encouraged them. Proud as they left these halls, full of scrapes and bruises, and big, wide smiles.
They remind Tsuru of her father in the before times, a man so focused on success. Achievement.
His eyes, when the teachers praised her.
0o0o0
She blinks, when she finds herself surrounded by members of her brother's council. The men and woman from the founding families, and clans staring her down.
"Would you read us aloud, what you were writing?"
They look suspicious so she sighs, handing her notebook to the man instead. "It's not finished."
The Awadatchi's eyebrows raise.
Tsuru isn't sure if it's be use of the defiance, or the fact it's filled with what she remembers of Lewis's Carrolls poetry.
Perhaps it was a mistake. It isn't like Satoru-kun would care, all the boy did was roll around, and stare into space.
Still after clearing his throat, the man begins to read the snippet of half forgotten poetry aloud, "They sought it with thimbles, they sought it with care;
They pursued it with forks and hope;
They threatened its life with a railway-share;
They charmed it with smiles and soap.
They shuddered to think that the chase might fail."
His brows furrow. "You wrote this?"
"It's in my hand, isn't it?" she tosses back, refusing to look away. "I'm writing it for Sato-"
"What are the next line's?" he demands.
"And the Beaver, excited at last,
Went bounding along on the tip of its tail,
For the daylight was nearly past."
"I'm stuck there," she admits.
"Can you draw this beaver?"
Tsuru frowns, but picks up a pencil anyway and steals an empty sheets from her father's desk. "Eito, and Sachihiro are better at this."
"It looks like a big furry rodent with long teeth, and a flat, round tail," Tsuru remarks as she pushes the pencil to the paper. "And it bounces on its tail like this."
One of the Yuki, tries to hide a his smile behind his sleeve as she demonstrates the motion.