Dreams or Nightmares
Chapter 2: Preparing
"Mum, where's Arashi?"
"Remember Aro? She promised to help prepare for the festival tonight."
"What did she do this time?"
"She kicked friar Mulin."
"She didwhat! Why!"
"Heh… she claimed… she claimed that the friar had been verbally abusing a Mail Moogle."
"…"
Arashi stood fixed to the spot; eyes wide as the boy drew unintentionally closer, still moving backwards.
Without stopping for a moment to think, the small girl reached out with one hand and lifted the warm morsel from his grasp with ease as he passed.
A look of surprise and confusion lit upon his as he realized that he no longer had possession of his edible prize. Attention moving from where he was going to Arashi, he consequently did not notice the large stack of empty baskets piled just behind him, looming closer.
The large woven containers were forced in every direction, the boy landing upon his back in the middle of the chaos he just ensued.
"You shouldn't steal…" Arashi whispered, her face void of emotions as she observed the youthful thief, feeling the freshly baked loaf of bread being snatched from her hands by the angry cook, who had just caught up.
"Arashi!" the glaring man barked, thrusting a fat appendage to point in the direction of a large cluster of woman, who were laboring over soapy tubs, scrubbing away at the dishes and cooking utensils.
"Get where you belong, girl!" he commanded, looking down his nose at the quiet child, who quickly scurried off.
His face rapidly darkening to the hue of a beetroot, the exhausted friar moved his attention to the trouble making boy who was currently groaning as he gently put a hand to his throbbing skull.
"Rema…" the stout man growled, his left eye twitching in utter rage.
Putting on a nervous grin, Rema slowly rose to his feet, carefully edging away from the sputtering man before him.
The color of the cook's face deepened in hue as Rema swiftly pivoted upon one aching heel, and dashed hurriedly towards the exit, pursued only by a storm of harmless threats.
"Can you believe those two!"
"I know! That dreadful daughter of theirs should be receiving harsher punishment for the horrid things she does!"
"Mintra and Finitor need to snuff the defiant light in that girl's eyes for good!"
Arashi pummeled the ceramic bowl in front of her with a soap lathered rage, salty drops of liquid stinging at her narrowed eyes as she listened to the women around her gossip about her family.
'I'm a disgrace to my mother and father... a burden!' she thought bitterly, quickly blinking away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
"Oy, girl! You're supposed t' be washin' the bloody dish, not beatin' it!" a woman shouted in a scolding voice, shaking an aged digit at the glaring child.
"And don't be lookin' at me like that, whelp!"
Once it grows longer you'll be able to tame it." Mintra said softly, standing in the doorway of Arashi's small bedroom, watching as her daughter furiously pulled at the unruly lock of her hair with a brush, applying liberal amounts of water from a bowl upon the table she sat at.
But to no avail.
A fleeting smile appearing across her thin lips for a moment, Mintra stepped over to the child, taking the brush from her and gently attempting to smooth the wild, raven strands.
"Arashi averted her eyes, refusing to meet her mother's own as she sat silently."
"Something wrong?" Mintra inquired softly, her tone taking a concerned tone due to Arashi's reserved behavior.
The girl shook her head slowly, staying quiet, but the older woman still gave her a suspicious, sideways glance.
"Have you been listening to those gossiping hags at the kitchens?"
Arashi's lack of reply was all the answer she needed.
"Am I a disgrace to the family, Mother?"
Mintra seemed taken aback by this, but immediately answered a bit harshly.
"Don't talk such nonsense! Those women do nothing but complain all day and scrub the finishing of dishes. "Start listening to 'em and you'll start thinking like them. Now get dressed for the festival, and I'll find something to do with that hair after." Mintra ordered, rising and leaving to room.