Koko and Suki (1x04 The Warriors of Kyoshi)
Koko was watching them from the veranda. In her young, six-year-old face was the familiar awe that showed every time she watched the Warriors train. And as Akane called an end to their session, Suki approached the window of the dojo with a fond smile.
"How are you, Koko?"
As always, the little girl ducked below the sill, blue eyes peeking past the wood in shy curiosity. "Fine. Mom sent me to get Ran. Dinner's ready."
"And what's for dinner?" She folded her arms along the sill, the tassels of her headdress shaking as she met the shorter girl's gaze.
"Steamed dumplings."
"Sounds delicious."
"I made something." Though still bashful, Koko had begun to relish Suki's attention, and she took a step back, her hands folded behind her tiny frame. When Suki nodded expectantly, she produced from her back a lumpy, wood…something or other. The plank was slightly flat, two holes cut from the center, and one side slathered in white paint.
"It's beautiful," Suki said hesitantly, but with affection. Whatever it was had been made with love.
Koko held it up in both hands, proffering it for her examination. "It's a mask. Like yours." Now she could see it; the two eye holes, with uneven streaks of red and black radiating to either side. The large smudge of red that was likely the mouth. "I made a crown, but I tore it."
"So you're going to be a Kyoshi Warrior like your big sister?" Suki picked up the mask, feigning deep fascination with its strange lumps and ragged edges. Though rough, it had obviously been a project of many hours, and Koko was obviously very proud of it.
"No," she said simply, taking the mask back. "I don't like school." The response made Suki laugh, despite the gravity with which Koko said it. "Suki, why do you wear masks?"
"Well, it's not really a mask." She drew a gloved finger along the curve of her cheek, where the rice powder had mingled with her sweat to form a smooth, hard texture. "It's…expression."
The little girl's eyebrows curled in doubt. "What's that?"
"Well, masks are made to cover up." Suki straightened, resting her hands on the sill. "When you wear a mask, you don't really want anyone to see what you're feeling."
"Like I don't want Ran to know I used her face paint?"
Suki grinned. "Something like that. But expression…that's when you do want people to see. And the make-up allows us to show the world what's buried deep inside us. It's an expression of our Warrior Spirit."
"I think your warrior spirit's awfully pretty," Koko said with a shy half-smile, and Suki leaned forward to tap her on the nose.
"I think yours is, too."
That confused Koko immensely, her tiny brow furrowing as her smile disappeared. "But I'm not wearing any make-up!"
"It doesn't have to be make-up, Koko." She fought back a laugh, beaming at the blue-robed child. "You can express yourself in any way you like. For instance, look at Pho Mi." Suki bobbed her head to the thoroughfare behind Koko, and she turned to follow her gaze.
Some distance up the dirt road was Pho Mi, chatting with Ying the fruit vendor. Oblivious to the girls' discussion, he leaned heavily on the fruit cart, his face, visible even from that far away, twisting in time to his words.
"See how he talks?" Suki continued, leaning against the wood so she could watch him from under the raised window slats. "Whenever he says something, he says it with his face, too."
Koko merely grimaced. "Mom says he's…uh…he's…yellow-dramatic."
"Well, maybe. But that's his way of expressing himself."
And as if to make Koko's mom's point, Pho Mi gasped as Ying handed over a ripe sun-melon. With exceptional melodramatic flare, his whole body shook, and he clutched the fruit to him as if he were holding his firstborn child.
In moments, Pho Mi was hurrying down the thoroughfare with delighted shouts, nearly frothing at the mouth. And Koko looked back to Suki with a short frown.
"I don't think I want to express myself."
Suki grinned broadly and gestured toward her lumpy mask. "You already have, Koko."
The little girl was still puzzling through this when her sister finally showed up, her headdress missing and her paint mostly removed. "Koko!" Ran cried as she noticed her through the window. "What is that?"
Slowly, Koko's eyes traveled from Suki to Ran, and she held up the mask both in embarrassment and in guilt. "It's…my expression."
"And it's wearing my make-up," she growled, stalking to Suki's side. "I'm so telling Mom when we get home."
"Calm down, Ran," Suki murmured, giving Koko a surreptitious wink. "Besides, it looks better on that mask than it ever did on you."
Koko giggled as Ran glared at Suki, too furious to speak. Finally, though, with a disgusted sound, she stormed for the door, and Suki turned back to the window.
"Always be proud of what you show the world, Koko. No matter how grumpy some people may get."
With a big smile, Koko nodded. And then she jumped down from the veranda to follow her angry sister home. Suki watched her leave, grinning softly.
After a moment, she disappeared to remove her make-up, as well.
A/N: This one-shot is set about two years in the past. Crazy Foaming Guy (Pho Mi here - yeah, I know. genius) pulled ahead in the poll after I'd already started writing the story. So all he got was a guest star role.
The story idea was based on my five-year-old niece, who quite adorably told me a few months ago that when she goes to school, she has to put on a mask so the other kids won't see how weird she is. Ignoring the fact the kid is using a surprisingly sophisticated metaphor (thus proving that kindergartners are way smarter than most people give them credit for), the comment made me awfully sad for her. I think we all know what it's like to pretend to be something you're not, just because you're afraid no one will like the real 'you.' And it makes me sad that she's finding that out so young. So this is kinda for her. I guess. That being said, I have no idea what's with the inspirational-message trend. Maybe I'll try to vary it up with the next chapter…