Arya held the uniform up in front of her.

The severity of the situation was not lost on her, but she still could not help but ask, "Really? This?" This was not Japanese; she just really did not approve. There was a bow. There were frills.

But ten minutes, and every moment she stood around staring at this was less time.

She sighed, deeply, and then began getting efficiently and unselfconsciously changed from what she had on into the uniform.

"Does Arya sound enough like an American name?" She could change it. That was much easier than the frill and the bow and the skirt.