บท 68: Would You Mind Dying Once First?
Koutetsujou rumbled onward, its steam whistle sounding intermittently.
A few unruly civilians barged barefoot into the control room, pressing their chests against the samurai's steam rifles, tauntingly daring them to shoot.
"They're demanding that Koutetsujou stop, and they refuse to listen to reason," one of the Yomogawa samurai explained to Ayame helplessly.
The group sat down, cross-legged, right in the middle of the control room.
"Stop. The. Train."
"We want to mourn our family members."
"Any farther, and they won't hear our prayers," they chattered away.
"Do you want my grandson to become a wandering ghost?"
Ayame looked at them, troubled.
"Oh?" Kurumi's interest piqued as she looked at the lot, realizing just how amusing people in this world could be—amusing enough to make her feel a slight urge to kill.
"Oh my, my... Don't you want your grandson to be a wandering ghost?" Kurumi stepped slowly down from the platform, closing the distance between them step by step.
"Of course not! He's my only grandson!" The man immediately adopted a pitiful demeanor, playing the role of a wounded elder, his defiance gone now that the rifle was no longer in his face.
Shing!
As she passed Kurusu, Kurumi reached over and drew the blade from his hip with a swift, backward motion. Sliding forward in a single fluid step, she pressed the blade against the old man's throat.
"If your grandson is that lonely... why don't you go and keep him company?"
"You!" He glared at Kurumi. "How can you be so heartless?"
"Tokisaki-san..." Ayame faltered, reaching out her hand.
The elder's eyes widened when he noticed his lord's distress; he held his head high and thrust his neck toward the blade.
"Go ahead! Kill me!" he shouted. "You heartless wench, kill me so I can join my poor grandson!"
"Pity my family. We worked our fingers to the bone for the Yomogawa family, only to—only to..." He squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could summon tears on command.
Yet to his shock, the girl in black didn't pull away but instead continued pressing the blade against his skin, her lips curving into a slow smile.
The cold blade parted his skin, and he could feel the icy edge grow even sharper as the crimson blood trickled down his neck.
Feeling the warm blood and the true terror of death, he suddenly pushed himself back, clutching his neck as the delayed pain hit him in full.
"Murder! The Yomogawa samurai are murdering civilians!"
A few of his supporters cried out in horror, drawing a round of angry glares from the samurai.
Clang!
Kurumi tossed the blade with a flick of her wrist, the tip slicing past the man's head and pinning his hair to the metal floor, effectively nailing him in place.
"Yell again, and I really will kill you."
She wasn't joking.
They immediately fell silent.
"For now, please go back. We'll consider your request for a memorial stop," Ayame said softly.
They sighed in relief, looking at her with something like reverence before hurrying away without another word.
"Tokisaki-san... Thank you very much," Ayame said, bowing deeply toward Kurumi.
"Oh, my... That kind of gratitude feels so insincere." Kurumi paused, yanking out the blade and casually tossing it back to Kurusu.
Kurusu caught it, his face pained as he looked down at his beloved blade.
"Um, Tokisaki-san... What would you like as thanks?" Ayame asked, caught off guard.
Kurumi's lips curled into a grin. "She wants you to bare your stomach," Mumei muttered, her face sour with a lingering grudge from the teasing.
"W-what?" Ayame froze, staring in utter surprise.
"Oh, nothing like that," Kurumi laughed, then reached over to grab Mumei by her pouting hair tufts and pulled her into an embrace.
"Hmm-hmm—" muffled, Mumei could only let out a string of noises from where she was held against Kurumi's... generously endowed chest.
Kurumi leaned closer to Ayame. "Exposing one's stomach is for apologies, but for gratitude..." Her teasing gaze drifted up.
"K-Kurumi-san!" For the first time, Ayame called Kurumi by her name, her cheeks bright red.
"Oh my, my." Kurumi chuckled and stepped back, while Kurusu stood behind her, scowling deeply.
He couldn't hear exactly what Kurumi had said, but he knew it couldn't be anything good.
This woman... She definitely needed to be kept away from Ayame.
At that moment, Mumei's expression sharpened, and she suddenly pulled free from Kurumi's embrace, her gaze fixed on the rear carriages.
"What's wrong?"
"Kabane..."
"What?" The samurai were stunned.
"Being... No, as a 'Kabaneri,' I can sense Kabane within a certain range." Mumei darted toward the rear carriages and unsheathed Kurusu's long sword.
Kurusu blinked in confusion. Why... is it always my sword?
"I don't sense anything," Ikoma muttered from his spot on the floor, confused.
"That's why I call you slow," Mumei replied flatly.
Mumei led the way, bringing everyone to the rear carriages.
The unsheathed blade in her hands, coupled with rumors of a Kabane girl floating around the train, sent everyone they passed shrinking back into their seats, trembling in fear.
In the second-to-last carriage, they found two tall, lanky men struggling with a woman. It appeared they were upset that she had been given extra food.
Mumei stopped, confused. She could have sworn she sensed something.
Seeing that even Ayame-sama had come, the two men reluctantly stepped back, muttering resentfully about the woman getting more food when the rest were starving.
At that moment, Kajika, the young girl overseeing food distribution, stepped forward.
"Shino-san... she's expecting. That's why I gave her a little extra."
"If there's any punishment, I'll take it," she added softly.
The crowd glanced away at the woman, who held her stomach protectively.
"Expecting?" Mumei murmured, her gaze flicking back to Shino.
"You guessed right," Kurumi whispered, patting Mumei's head. "But let me handle this."
"Shino-san, is it?" Kurumi said, looking at the sad-eyed woman. "Could you come with me to the rear, near the boiler room?"
"Alright..." she answered timidly.
Kurumi led her through the door into the empty boiler room and turned the steam valve to seal them in.
"Shino-san... You've been attacked by a Kabane, haven't you?"
Shino gripped her skirt tightly.
"Relax," Kurumi said, her expression softening into a small smile.
"I... I just want to hold out until my child is born."
"But, your child is even more vulnerable than you," Kurumi continued gently. "It's quite likely he could be infected even sooner."
"No..." Shino's face twisted in despair.
"Oh, my... Well, Shino-san, do you believe in fairies?" Kurumi asked, tilting her head thoughtfully.
"Fairies?"
"You could think of them as gods," Kurumi replied with a shrug.
"Gods... Is there really such a thing?" Shino murmured.
"But before that," Kurumi said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a small vial of pale blue liquid, the bottle adorned with tiny wings. "Would you mind dying once first?"
...
Maybe that's what they call a god, Shino thought as she was moved to the next carriage, under Kajika's care.
Though... this goddess did seem to have a cruel streak.
Still, thank you.
In the control room, the samurai stood around, twitching with discomfort as they watched a fight play out.
"Hey! Stop with all those moves!" Mumei twisted and swung her fist into Ikoma's face, pressing her shoulder against him to force him back. Then she delivered a quick elbow jab to his stomach, flipping him to the ground.
Bang!
"Completely hopeless," she muttered.
Thump!
"Too slow, too slow," she continued, shaking her head.
According to Mumei, for a Kabaneri, Ikoma was embarrassingly weak—a disgrace, in her words.
As Koutetsujou's only "human shield" who could safely be bitten, she believed it was his responsibility to act as a proper tank.
In a few short minutes, the green-haired boy was thrown to the floor more times than he could count. This high-intensity "training" drew curious glances from the samurai, with even Kurusu beginning to look at Ikoma with a bit of pity.
Due to an issue with the water tank, Koutetsujou began to slow down, coming to a stop by a riverside station. According to Chief Engineer Suzuki, they'd need to spend the night there for repairs, or else the train wouldn't make it to the next city.
But Ikoma's ordeal wasn't over; the samurai still hoped he could show them a way to stop the virus from turning them into Kabane.
"So, you're saying... if you cut off blood flow through the carotid artery right after infection, you can survive?" the head guard asked, eyeing Mumei's neck ribbon... and collar, looking both surprised and disturbed.
"It's possible," Ikoma muttered sullenly. But after a day of getting pummeled, his spirits were low.
Hah—
Hearing Ikoma's explanation, Kurumi suddenly burst into laughter.
"Hey, what are you laughing at?" Ikoma glared at her, embarrassed.
"Show some respect for Kurumi-nee!"
Smack!
Mumei immediately jabbed a fist into Ikoma's nose, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"Oh, sorry. I wasn't laughing at you," Kurumi said with a soft chuckle, trying to stifle another laugh.
"Huh?" Even Mumei looked at Kurumi, puzzled.
She couldn't blame them—Kurumi had suddenly remembered an old saying.
Lift your feet off the ground, virus closed. Nothing's getting through—what a brilliant thought from those on high.
"Maybe someday, I'll take you to see it in action," she added to Mumei.
As the sun dipped low in the western sky, half-submerged behind the mountains, the sky was washed in rich orange hues.
Koutetsujou circled in a U-pattern around the riverside station, slowly coming to a stop.
With time to repair the water tank, it was a chance to mourn the departed.
During this brief period of relative safety, the crew held a ceremony to soothe the spirits of the deceased and calm the minds of the survivors.
The samurai fanned out to guard the perimeter, and on top of the train, others patrolled back and forth, rifles in hand and binoculars at the ready.
The civilians gathered around a bonfire in the center of the stopping point, using the break to rest and swap rumors with familiar faces. They murmured stories—Ayame's fierce stance as she fired her gun, the rumors of Kabane on board, and some spoke of the "Night Owl," claiming its arrival in Aragane Station led to the station's fall and the shriek of a hawk was proof.
But mostly, it was a gathering of sorrowful murmurs and choked sobs.
As night fell, the priest in his robes stood by the fire, chanting prayers as the civilians clasped their hands, praying for the souls of the departed.
Soft weeping and sobs echoed in the air, casting a somber mood over the gathering.
Sitting a ways off from the fire, a few officials and older civilians huddled together, whispering conspiratorially. Among them were a handful of civilians who, spurred on by the officials, picked up knives and hoes, intending to find Mumei and Ikoma and confront them.
"Oh?" Kurumi tilted her head, watching them with interest.
Following her gaze, Ayame, sitting nearby, saw the group approaching and instinctively rose to intervene.
But Kurumi took hold of her arm and gently pulled her back, causing Ayame to stumble and fall onto Kurumi's lap.
Confused, Ayame looked up at Kurumi. "Tokisaki-san...?"
"Shh..." Kurumi smirked. "Mumei's coming back."
"Huh?" Ayame finally noticed that she hadn't seen Mumei since they had left the train.
Clank—Clank—
The sound of chains dragging on the ground echoed behind the group of civilians.
"Hey! What are you all doing here?" Mumei's voice called from behind them.
"Oh... Are you here to bring us blood since I'm hungry?"
"Blood?" Ikoma blinked beside her, confused.
"Mm-hmm, red and fresh... You know, the kind that comes gushing out like pssh when you chop someone." Mumei grinned mischievously. "Oh, right. You're hungry too, right? You don't seem like you've had any blood."
The civilians turned around, only to gasp in terror and turn to flee.
"Kabane!"
The reason for their terror was clear—Ikoma was dragging a bound Kabane, which wriggled along the ground, unable to move freely with its hands and feet tightly tied.
"Hey, why are you all panicking?" Mumei said, smirking as she lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing. "It's tied up nice and tight."
One of the men swallowed hard, stammering out, "You... you monsters! Get away!"
"Oh?" Mumei swung her short steam rifle, and with a quick jab of the stock, she drove it hard into Ikoma's stomach.
Urgh!
Ikoma doubled over in pain, and Mumei gave the chain another pull, releasing the Kabane.
Bound hand and foot, the Kabane squirmed along the ground like an oversized, grotesque caterpillar, inching its way toward the fleeing civilians.
"Help us! Samurai, help us!" the civilians screamed, running away in terror.
The samurai soon calmed the civilians, explaining that the Kabane had been specifically captured for research.
In the rear carriage, the group's leaders and a handful of high-ranking samurai gathered around the Kabane.
Ikoma took his modified piercing gun, aimed carefully, and fired directly at its iron-encased heart, killing it instantly.
The bullet, which Ikoma had nicknamed "jet bullets," did indeed prove effective against Kabane, and it was worth considering for further development.
But more pressing matters took priority.
Ikoma turned the Kabane's body over, using a blade to expose its neck for everyone to see.
"Look here," he pointed. "Only the carotid artery swelled up."
"That's the basis for my theory."
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