Disclaimer: Natsuki Takaya owns FB, and anything else you recognize also doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 44

"Why do they make girls wear skirts in this climate?" moaned Shuro. "Skirts are much too drafty." The uniform regulations required female students to wear navy blue woolen skirts that reached to the ankles. Shuro had never worn women's skirts in Lhose; only the traditional men's robes when occasion called for them. It was only the third day of school, so Shuro had not yet had enough time to become comfortable in the girls' uniform.

Munching on a french fry, Hotohori mumbled, "Shuro, you can always wear pants under the skirt. The school administrators live in this cold climate, too, and they sympathize. Believe me."

Hotohori and Shuro sat with Khezuke and Haku at one of the brand-new light blue plastic folding tables in the western half of the school's enormous cafeteria. They'd managed to get one of the coveted tables next to a window, where the sunlight outshone the depressing artificial lighting from the overhead fixtures. The lunch periods were split into three different periods, to prevent overcrowding. The four friends' lunch period fell during the noontime hour, and the other Shomas had lunch after the noontime period. Shuro had been visibly disappointed that she and Hatsuharu couldn't have lunch together.

Khezuke bit into an overstuffed roast beef sandwich, spilling small pieces of lettuce onto his plate. "Shuro, do you always eat so little?" he asked in between chews.

"I've always been a picky eater," said Shuro, "but this cafeteria is pretty good as far as cafeterias go." Her tray consisted of a salad bowl, a bag of dried fruit, and a milk carton, which paled in comparison to the heavy trays of Shuro's three companions. For a while, all four ate busily in silence.

"Hmm! I almost forgot!" exclaimed Shuro, her eyes popping in excitement. "Haku? Have you heard about the wolf?"

"What wolf?" asked Haku, alarmed. "And keep your voice down!"

"Some girls in another class claim they saw a golden wolf in the locker room, while they were changing for P.E. earlier this morning," whispered Shuro conspiratorially, everyone automatically leaning into the table to hear better. "One of those girls has a friend in my class, and I heard them talking. Apparently this wolf charged the girls when it saw them, and they ran away screaming, naturally, but it vanished and didn't hurt any of them. Is the wolf yours, Haku?"

"Well…" Expectant faces turned towards Haku. "Did that classmate of yours describe the wolf in any more detail?"

Shuro nodded vigorously. "She said it was huge, like a lion. And it could go through walls! It eyes glowed red, and paws were as big as dessert plates. Its fur was very shiny and thick."

"No scratches or bald spots?"

"I don't think so. The other girl that my classmate was talking to didn't really believe her, though. It does sound pretty incredible, doesn't it?"

"Not for a school attended by Shomas," grunted Khezuke, rolling his eyes.

"Except for the size and the red eyes, it doesn't fit Faran-Zhuku at all," said Haku, frowning. Almost defensively, he added, "And I know Faran-Zhuku hasn't left my body. He's just sleeping."

"Well, even if the golden wolf's not real, a wild story like that is bound to spread quickly," decided Hotohori. "Haku, I don't suppose you've ever seen or heard of such a creature in your visions?"

"One killer wolf is enough," remarked Khezuke, recalling all the horror stories he'd heard about Faran-Zhuku.

"I agree, it's not likely," concurred Haku, scooping the last of his thin chicken stew.

"Maybe Karori is haunted by spirits?" mused Shuro, intrigued by the idea.

Suddenly, loud clattering noises rent the conversational hubbub, as chairs toppled to the ground and table legs skidded on the ground in the southeastern portion of the cafeteria. Screams of "Wolf!" carried clearly across the cafeteria, and students began fleeing from the eastern section as the lunchroom monitors attempted to restore calm. Everyone in the western half froze in their chairs, confused by the unexpected chaos. The panic spread as people in the midsection began screaming and running. The wolf appeared to be making its way across the cafeteria. People either fled for the doors, or jammed themselves against the opposite walls, trying not to attract the wolf's attention.

"We ought to get out of the way," said Khezuke, standing up and pulling Shuro by the arm. The fear in his eyes indicated he was taking no chances.

"Haku! Where are you going?" yelled Hotohori, watching her friend bolt towards the east. Instinctively, she followed, trailed reluctantly by Khezuke and a frightened Shuro.

"Aieee! Are you crazy?" cried a fleeing upperclass girl as Haku shoved her aside. The girl lost her balance and crashed to the ground. Shala, on monitor duty at the time, helped the blubbering girl to her feet, and watched Haku. Someone was ordering Shala to run, but her curiosity compelled her to stay. I must be an idiot, thought Shala vaguely.

Haku had stopped, and his three friends behind him. Shala didn't recognize the brown-haired girl hiding behind Khezuke, but she was the least of Shala's concerns now. A yellowish glowing ball was approaching Haku's group, and in its midst was what indeed seemed to be an overgrown wolf. The fur shone a dazzling bronze, and its eyes were the color of blood. To Shala, its path looked erratic—the way it turned its head from side to side and darted about reminded her more of a frightened, cornered animal than anything else.

The wolf stilled, as Haku slowly advanced a few steps. Shala wondered if Haku had the power to command canines, and if the wolf was his own doing. Then, as quickly as the wolf had appeared, it dissolved into the air, and the glow faded to nothingness. The terrified students pushed against the wall began to relax. The principal and vice principal arrived at the cafeteria, and they ordered all the remaining students to leave the cafeteria and go to their classes. Approximately two-thirds of the tables had been shifted and many chairs overturned. Puddles and mashed foods dotted the floors where drinks and trays had been dropped or knocked over.

As they walked back to their lockers, Haku, Hotohori, Shuro, and Khezuke were still recovering from the incident.

"What were you thinking, going straight for the wolf like that?" hissed Hotohori.

"It's definitely not under my control," whispered Haku back. "Something, or somebody else, is making it appear."

"Everybody's going to think you're responsible," Khezuke quietly pointed out. "There were plenty of witnesses who saw you going after that ghost." Shuro nodded in grim confirmation.

Lhurone

Compared to the kids at Karori, Hatsumi and I were having quite a dull time with our tutor. Asheno purposely hired a university student, named Asherish Ghen, who was badly in need of money. Therefore, he was less inclined to do anything that might endanger the more than generous salary he received, including questioning me, or Hatsumi, about our pasts or the Shoma family. Needless to say, I'm positive Asheno warned him against being even remotely friendly with any Shoma.

We started our sessions with Ghen the day after the others began at Karori, and it's now been a week and a half since Ghen began coming to the estate. Frankly, everybody was surprised that Asheno willingly brought in an outsider to tutor us—it seemed more sensible to find a Shoma. However, all curiosity Hatsumi and I had towards Ghen vanished when we saw how utterly unremarkable he was in every way. His clothing was average and secondhand, he did nothing but study, and he possessed no interest in chatting informally with us. Ghen lacked any personality whatsoever. His specialty was literature, and he understood basic algebra fairly well. Asheno was most concerned with bringing our reading level up to speed, strengthening our writing skills, and getting a good foundation in mathematics, so Ghen fit our needs adequately.

Our tutoring sessions would be in the afternoons, since Ghen had all his classes in the mornings. Ghen was the sort who liked to follow rather rigid routines. He decided that we would start with an hour of reading, then an hour of writing, take a fifteen-minute break, and followed by an hour and a half of mathematics. Then we repeated the cycle once more, and there the long afternoon would end. At least Ghen was well-organized, even if he did teach by rote and preferred to work on his own homework while Hatsumi and I labored over our exercises.

I'd stopped going to school regularly in fifth grade, but Hatsumi, as far as I could tell, had never gone to school. His lack of education is a great embarrassment for him, especially with the others starting high school. I'm embarrassed, too, but I just accept it more easily than poor Hatsumi does. After the first interminable afternoon with Ghen, Hatsumi finally told me about his past. Even Rhena had been unable to squeeze any information out of Hatsumi.

"I was sold to an underground fighting organization," he said, in the privacy of the room I shared with Khosure. Both of us were reclining on the beds, exhausted from grappling with subjects that were very rusty in our minds. Taking pity on us, Ghen cut the session short, after three hours. It'd been especially hard on Hatsumi, and I suppose he felt the need to justify his pitiful lack of education. I was the natural person to talk to because we'd shared a room since his arrival, and we got along well.

"What?" Skipping school because of gang activity I could understand, but I'd never heard of such a thing as an underground fighting organization. "Do you mean a martial arts group?"

"No. This was all-out combat fighting," explained Hatsumi. "You know, no rules. Knives, kicking, biting, anything goes. I wasn't part of a gang, but a gang ran the whole operation. There isn't anything like it east of the Dividing Range, which is why nobody in eastern Hoth really knows anything about these organizations. But there's a lot of them in the west, especially the larger towns. Rhenigroth has the biggest one."

As you know, my Dzuni can't handle violence well since I turned fifteen, so listening to Hatsumi made me feel slightly feverish. These slight illnesses are, I suppose, an "allergic reaction" to anything I think or do that has any violent connotations. As a result, I'm often unwell. But as I've grown better acquainted with my Dzuni's pacifistic ways, I avoid such reactions more easily. Now I took a deep breath and tried to erase the dark images being suggested by my roommate's description of The Den of Sin. This was too good an opportunity to get Hatsumi to open up some.

"So, how were these…organizations set up?" I stumbled as my mouth refused to form "fighting." "And by the way, Hatsumi, if it's possible, try not to be too graphic when you describe it."

Hatsumi acknowledged my request with a small smile. Long ago, he became accustomed to the awkward pauses and "This place was called 'The Den of Sin.' It used to be a medium-sized warehouse, but the gang bought it and converted the first level into a bar and strip club as a cover for the er…more illegal activities, which were mostly underground, in the basement. In the basement, there was a combat ring, and the audience sat around it. The combatants were children."

"Children?" I gasped, horrified, and turning my head towards Hatsumi. He sat up, his face expressionless. It occurred to me how odd it was for me to be so aghast when I'd started doing gang stuff at a young age myself, but things had changed drastically since then.

"Yes, they were usually orphan children, or their parents had sold them for money."

"Which category did you fall under?"

"I was sold. I was there for only two years though; from the first I wanted to escape. Two years felt like eternity in there." Hatsumi fell into silent recollection, his eyes bleak.

"What was life like there?" I asked in as gentle a voice as I could muster. My fever ebbed slightly, but I still dreaded what might be yet to come.

"Well," began Hatsumi tentatively, "the children were anywhere from about five to fifteen years old, usually. We lived in this terrible dormitory, and…I won't go into details." He shuddered. "Anybody who was physically able fought in the 'ring,' as we called it. Good fighters were treated better, got more food and more respect from the supervisors. I was one of the good ones, because of my strength and resistance to head injuries.

"Anyone who got maimed had two options, depending on their sex. Boys usually died, sooner or later. Girls, however, could work as…" Hatsumi's face reddened.

"Pleasure servants?" I suggested.

Hatsumi chuckled dourly. "That's a very polite way of saying it. When kids got older, like around fifteen or so, they either started working for the gang, doing odd jobs, or they were auctioned off to the audience."

The fever started to return, due to the images arising in my mind of the unfortunates who suffered in that slave trade. That's what it was, a slave trade.

"Gods, I never knew something like that existed in Hoth," I moaned, my cheeks flaming.

"Are you all right?" Hatsumi noticed my bright red cheeks.

"Yeah, I'll be okay, just stop talking about the place itself."

"So, I ran away after two years, and managed to hide myself from the gang well enough. They don't let you live if they find you, because they don't want anybody testifying. I worked odd jobs in convenience stores and restaurants, and saved my money. I took my surname from a name I saw on a store sign, and I managed to learn to read and write well enough to keep track of prices and store inventory lists."

"You're very bright, you know," I commented.

"Thanks, I guess," mumbled Hatsumi.

"No, really. You just need to spend more time catching up than you do moping on your missed time. It's amazing that you stayed in that terrible place for two years and still wanted a better life."

Hatsumi stared at me, then smiled. "Well, yes, I did want a better life. Plenty of kids lost hope in The Den." He fell silent for a moment, biting his lower lip. "To finish my story, after a while, I had enough money for train fare, and I decided to leave Rhenigroth and come to Lhasa. Lhasa seemed far away enough to me. It was only by accident I found the Shomas, you know."

"Asheno lost track of you completely, didn't he?" The fever receded slowly, as I silently gave thanks for the change of subject. "He hasn't been so good at managing us, has he?"

"Hm-mm." assented Hatsumi. He lay back down on his pillow, looking up at the ceiling. I knew then he wasn't in the mood to talk any longer, and besides, the fever had tired me out.

That was only between Hatsumi and me; he later made it quite clear that he wasn't ready for the others to know just yet, and I obliged. However, the Karori attendees were not shy about filling us in on the events at their school. Three main themes dominated any conversation about Karori: a golden wolf that appeared every so often; Rhini Ashiri, a Dzuni who hadn't moved to the main estate yet; and finally, Tori and Khezuke's homeroom teacher, another Shoma.

The mysterious golden wolf had materialized twice more after the infamous cafeteria incident, and the entire student body (excepting the Dzuni) at least suspected Haku was controlling it. The wolf still had not harmed anyone. It had jumped at people, but it always went right through them without leaving so much as a scratch on their bodies. Haku denied all of the accusations, but of course no one believed him. Students stayed as far away from Haku as possible, and avoided speaking with him. Yesterday, a silly first-year even screamed when she saw Haku enter the same corridor she was in. Not surprisingly, wherever Haku walked, empty space magically appeared around him, as though a force field surrounded him. Haku doesn't mind people avoiding him, but he does mind having attention called to him. For now, the wolf's origin remains enigmatic, although Tori theorizes one of the yet-undiscovered Dzuni is releasing it. If so, I sincerely hope that Dzuni is found quickly.

Speaking of new Dzunis, Hatsuharu told me about a close call he had with Ashiri, the rat. Quite frankly, hearing his description of Ashiri's electrical currents makes me anxious for his and the others' safety. At least Ashiri's proven she can defend herself against Asheno, if need be. And she's supposed to move in with us at the end of this week, too! Her boxes have begun to arrive in a steady stream from her current house, as are boxes for two other Dzunis who are also moving in at the same time.

Ashiri has been very slow to respond to our overtures of friendship. From what I've heard, Haku's made the most progress with her. Khosure explained to me yesterday that Haku is always careful to give her a lot of space, and not to pressure her. Ashiri once said she killed someone by accident in the past, and Haku can certainly relate to that. But our rat girl has revealed nothing more—she guards her secrets jealously. Personally, I think that Haku is not the one she'll feel safest around. It's queer, saying this when I haven't even met Ashiri, but they're almost too similar to become good friends. They're both scared of their powers, very angry, and very frustrated. Just a gut feeling I have.

In the meanwhile, we constantly ponder the relevance of Tori and Khezuke's homeroom teacher, Shoma Shala. Haku says her father is, or rather was, the dog under the old curse. Sometimes Haku's vast knowledge about the family, contrary to any claims he makes about Faran-Zhuku not telling him anything worthwhile, causes me some discomfort. I occasionally wonder how much Haku knows about our deepest secrets and the skeletons in the Shoma family's closet.

However, I digress. Tori, Khezuke, Hatsuharu, and Haku are all convinced this teacher knows about the curse, because she recognized their unusual looks. They're taking great care to hide their school papers from Asheno, so he doesn't find out that Shala is teaching a bunch of his Dzuni, and they're probably right. Tori wants to confide in Shala at some later point, when we've gotten more familiar with her. I don't know how Tori plans to go about that, because one can't just march up to a teacher and ask personal questions. If Shala is directly connected to the old Dzuni, however, she might provide an invaluable retreat from Asheno.

I, for one, wouldn't mind meeting my horse predecessor. Listening to Haku and everyone else scheme away about finding these ex-Dzunis is rubbing off on me, obviously. It's fairly safe to say we all feel the same way: if we can find our predecessors, we'll have found people who can relate to our troubles, and perhaps treat us like real family members. None of us want to be sacrifices to the selfish desires of a pathetic man who imagines he's a god.