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prose_alchemistTitle: Winter Scenes
Author:jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: Mild PG for blood.
Characters: Ensemble, with emphasis on Ikoma.
Setting: General.
Summary: A new year approaches for those aboard the Kotetsujo.
Disclaimer: They belong to Kabaneri Committee and other relevant parties. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: A set of eight triple drabbles about the coming of winter and the New Year holiday, written fornewyearcntdown. The title of each segment is the word prompt it was based on. (Also for the prompt of “Festivals of the Quarter” at genprompt_bingo, and the “Fight” installment was submitted for the prompt of “Spark” at fan_flashworks.)
I. First Snow
On December the thirteenth, as the Kotetsujo’s passengers were busy cleaning the train in preparation for the New Year’s holiday, someone looked outside and noticed that the season’s first snow was falling.
For a little while the cleaning was interrupted, as people crowded around windows and rifle slits to watch the snow swirling past. Some hearty souls willing to endure the cold even ventured onto the outer decks. They leaned over the railing to catch snowflakes on their tongues, or drew pictures in the frost that already covered the train’s armored hull.
By the next day, the landscape the Kotetsujo moved through was blanketed with white, and some of the passengers—particularly the children—were visibly growing restless. They gazed out wistfully at the sparkle of fresh snow on open land, yearning to leave the cramped confines of the train and play in it.
Miss Ayame fretted and hesitated, but Ikoma reassured her with a smile.
“It’s okay. If Mumei and I keep watch, it’ll be safe to stop just for a little while, and let everyone enjoy the snow.”
That was how the two Kabaneri came to be perched atop the train that afternoon, still and silent as they listened inwardly for their sense of any approaching Kabane, while below them clamored yells and laughter of townsfolk hurling snowballs at each other.
Breaking his intent concentration, Ikoma cracked one eye open to glance furtively at Mumei beside him. He saw her gazing down at the ruckus with pensive longing.
“Go on,” he said softly, and was rewarded with a tremendous smile before she took off like a shot.
Ikoma didn’t mind keeping watch alone. For him, the burden of being the Kotetsujo’s guardian was more than rewarded by the sight of such rare joy in the people he protected.
II. Cold Hands
“Alright, everyone. It’s time to say goodbye to Mr. Snowman!”
As children groaned in disappointment at Kajika’s announcement, Ikoma withdrew from his concentration on lookout duty. He gazed down from atop the Kotetsujo to see passengers slowly regrouping and climbing back aboard the train—perhaps with a bit of gentle herding from the bushi. They’d all had more than an hour of fun romping in the newfallen snow, but it was time to be on their way. The longer the Kotetsujo stayed in one place, the riskier it was.
Ikoma waited until everyone else was inside before he followed. He was just in time to see Kajika throw off her coat and rub her hands together, blowing on them. “It’s so cold outside!”
“Weren’t you wearing gloves?” he asked in concern.
“I… gave mine to a little girl who didn’t have any.” Kajika pinkened, grinning awkwardly. “It’s okay. I’ll just warm my hands up with some hot tea.”
This girl, I swear… Ikoma sighed and stepped closer to her. “Come here.”
“What—?” Kajika squeaked, her eyes widening as he took her hands in his. He drew a breath and gently lifted them to his chest underneath his cloak, pressing her palms over his heart.
Kajika’s pink turned to full-on red, her fingers twitching against his sternum… but after a moment, she relaxed, letting the warmth of his higher body temperature seep into her hands.
“…Thanks, Ikoma.”
The Kabaneri merely smiled, and made a mental note to buy her some new gloves at the next station they visited. For all she chided him about his self-neglect in favor of caring for others, she wasn’t so innocent of it herself.
And besides that, he really didn’t want to be her hand-warmer again—because her hands on his bare skin were like ice.
III. Long Night
Ikoma was beginning to discover that long winter nights were boring.
Provided he was healthy and well-nourished, his Kabaneri body didn’t crave as much sleep as it had when he was human. It was typical for him to remain awake hours after his friends had nodded off, and rise before anyone else did. Mumei wasn’t like this, he noticed; she could fall asleep practically at will. However, she clearly had a different and rather more problematic relationship with sleep. Besides, she was still a child with a lot of growing yet to do.
In summer, Ikoma’s wakefulness was something of a blessing. It allowed him to concentrate on weapon schematics and research notes when there were no distractions… but now in the twilight of the year, the nights were too long to maintain his focus on work. His mind eventually went numb, in need of stimulation to refresh him. Unfortunately, there was little diversion to be had when everyone else was asleep, bundled in blankets to pass the cold of the nights in warm oblivion. Books may have helped, but he was fairly sure he’d already read every book aboard the Kotetsujo—and when it was hard enough just keeping the passengers fed and the train in proper repair, new books were an unaffordable luxury.
Such was the long night of the solstice, when Ikoma pushed away his notebook after its words blurred into a haze. He flopped back on his bunk with a sigh, still too-awake, his mood dull and gray as the underside of the upper bunk he found himself staring at.
He was surprised when Takumi leaned over the side of that bunk, grinning.
“Wanna play a game of shogi?” his best friend whispered.
Ikoma’s bright smile in return was all the answer he needed to give.
IV. Fight
Metallic sparks burst across Ikoma’s vision as he pulled the trigger of his piercing gun, firing a jet bullet into the heart cage of a Kabane. There was a snarl behind him, and he felt fangs sinking into his left shoulder before he twisted, shaking off another one of the monsters. He kicked it in the knee and it went down, exposing its back to the shot that would destroy it as well… but more of them were all around him.
Not all of the red spattered across the white snow was theirs.
Kurusu… can I ask a favor?
When Ikoma asked for the train to be stopped the next time they sighted a small group of Kabane, to let him go down and kill them, the samurai was baffled at first. Then the Kabaneri explained his reason… and if Kurusu hadn’t been, well, Kurusu, Ikoma thought the man’s eyes might almost have teared up.
With flesh torn and muscles aching, Ikoma was almost regretting his request now. Almost.
Even so, he finished the job. Soon a dozen Kabane corpses lay sprawled in the snow, and he made the rounds among them, carefully cutting out their organic-metal heart cages. (A pity that he had to pierce and damage those cages just to harvest them, he thought.)
He spent the rest of the day in the steamsmiths’ workshop on the train. At evening he came to the locomotive’s map room, bearing something wrapped in silk that he presented to Aragane’s kind and courageous leader.
I want to give Miss Ayame a gift. To thank her for believing in me, and saving me, after I became a Kabaneri.
When Miss Ayame saw the beautifully-made tanto, strengthened by the coating of heart-cage metal on its blade, it was she who wept grateful tears.
V. Trimming the Tree
“Ikoma! Come help us make the kadomatsu for New Year’s!”
Leaving off his endless technical notes, Ikoma smiled and approached Kajika’s orphans as they wrestled with several thick, leafless bamboo poles. He had seen the stalks being cut down during one of the train’s recent stops, but he hadn’t realized what they were intended for.
“It looks like you could use some help cutting those,” he observed wryly. As he took a knife and set to work trimming the bamboo into short lengths, each with a sharply angled end, the children began dragging other vegetation out of a sack: pine boughs, red leafless twigs, sprays of bright orange berries that managed to survive the winter’s first snow.
After a few minutes, he felt Mumei’s shadow fall over him. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re making kadomatsu with bamboo and pine branches for New Year’s Day,” Ichinoshin said earnestly, squinting at her. “Haven’t you ever done that?”
Mumei frowned. “I… kinda remember it? …But not really. What are they for?”
Kotaro grinned. “You’re supposed to put them outside your door. They bring good luck and drive away demons.”
“That’s silly,” Mumei muttered. “There are no demons, just Kabane. And people make their own luck…” Catching a reproving glance from Ikoma, she squirmed. “But still, this stuff is pretty. So what do you do with it?”
Soon the children were happily demonstrating to Mumei how to make a kadomatsu: how to group the pieces of bamboo in threes and tie them with rope, how to tuck in several pine branches around them, how to decorate them with the more colorful twigs and berries. Ikoma watched with satisfaction as his fellow Kabaneri lost herself in the creative effort.
Good luck charm or not, the kadomatsu had something to teach her, all the same.
VI. Inclusion
For all the supply limitations aboard the Kotetsujo, the New Year’s holiday was one occasion when it was important to indulge a little, and lighten the hearts of the passengers.
Under the protection of the Kabaneri, the bushi hunted wild boar. Coupled with vegetables foraged before the snow and some station-bought necessities, the people of Aragane managed to assemble a decent Osechi Ryori: the New Year’s feast. Along with traditional ozoni soup, there was konbumaki—neatly tied bows of kelp filled with pork meat—nesting on beds of kinpira gobo made of braised burdock root and carrots. There were kamaboko fish cakes and pickled lotus-root renkon. For dessert there was zenzai, a soup of sweet red beans, and the prerequisite kuri kinton, a dish of mashed sweet potatoes and candied chestnuts that was exclusively for New Year’s celebrations
Seeing Kajika and several townswomen busy cooking, Ikoma volunteered himself and Mumei to help. Mumei grumbled at first, but soon seemed to enjoy it, frowning in concentration as she tried to tie the konbumaki bows without spilling any of the pork.
For his part, Ikoma couldn’t help thinking about how strange it was that he felt no desire for the treats. Even the most delectable normal foods were now unappealing to his Kabaneri body… while the thing he did crave was something too loathsome to bring into the presence of this special meal.
Accordingly, after helping to serve the dishes, Ikoma announced that he and Mumei would excuse themselves to eat; but Miss Ayame kindly corrected him.
“You two helped make this occasion possible,” she said firmly. “You deserve to share it with us.”
Thus the two Kabaneri sat with their feasting friends… and throughout the evening, not a single soul gave their discreet sips from their blood tubes a second glance.
VII. Bell
It all started when Ikoma overheard a conversation between the bushi.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to stop at a station for New Year’s,” Miss Ayame was ruefully announcing to Chief Akoji. “No stations in the region we’re passing through were willing to open their gates to us during the holiday.”
Akoji hissed out a sigh. “That’s unfortunate. The people were looking forward to the celebrations—and especially a temple visit.”
“Our own priest can conduct prayers on the train,” Kurusu noted.
“Yes, but it isn’t the same. No fireworks, no food stalls on the temple grounds, no hearing the Joya-no-Kane…”
Miss Ayame blinked at the mention of the traditional New Year’s Eve bell-ringing at temples. “Surely we can improvise the Joya-no-Kane, as we’ve done with so many other things. …I don’t suppose we have any sort of bells aboard the Kotetsujo?”
Kurusu may have almost snorted. “They would hardly have been viewed as necessary cargo during Aragane’s evacuation.”
“I’ll ask around,” Akoji said gloomily. “But to my knowledge, I’m afraid we don’t.”
And that was when the wheels started turning in Ikoma’s head.
He hurried back to the steamsmiths’ workshop. “Guys, do we still have some of the extra scrap metal we salvaged from the wreck of that derailed train?”
“Yes.” Suzuki squinted at the Kabaneri through his goggles. “What do you need it for?”
“A morale booster,” Ikoma said with a smile, and proceeded to outline his plan.
A few nights later, on New Year’s Eve, the unmistakable sound of a bell rang out through each car of the train one hundred and eight times. Far from massive bronze temple bells, they were only small handbells roughly forged from iron; but if their sound was just a little bit hollow and dull, no one seemed to mind.
VIII. First
Just as a hint of gray light was creeping into the sky on the morning of New Year’s Day, people began emerging onto the outer decks of the Kotetsujo. Bundled in whatever coats and blankets they had, they braved the wind-whipped chill of winter, in order to see the first sunrise of a new year.
The light of that dawn would not fall on a world without monsters, or even the rebuilt walls of Aragane Station. Still, for every soul aboard the train, just being there to see this sunrise was a victory. They had survived not only the Kabane, but a nomadic and uncertain way of life that station-dwellers could never dream of. They had adapted to it, learning to harden against the challenges they faced on the rails, and to soften toward the Kabaneri protectors they had come to trust.
Standing on the prow deck, Ikoma studied the friends surrounding him. Miss Ayame smiling behind a fur coat collar, Kurusu hovering close at her side. The orphans forsaking Kajika to huddle around Mumei’s warmth. Yukina and Sukari bickering, Kibito grinning as he watched them. Suzuki wiping his fogged-up goggles… and Takumi, leaning on the railing beside Ikoma with a smile.
Ikoma was not the person he had been when the sun last rose upon a new year. He was better; but it wasn’t because he had become a Kabaneri.
It was all because of them.
“This year we will reclaim Aragane Station,” Miss Ayame asserted, almost in a whisper, as the sunrise washed over the horizon in streaks of pink and orange.
His heart lighting with a determined glow like the rising sun, Ikoma clenched his fist over the cherished stone in his palm… and smiled fiercely.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make that wish come true.
© 2021 Jordanna Morgan
Author:
jordannamorganArchive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: Mild PG for blood.
Characters: Ensemble, with emphasis on Ikoma.
Setting: General.
Summary: A new year approaches for those aboard the Kotetsujo.
Disclaimer: They belong to Kabaneri Committee and other relevant parties. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: A set of eight triple drabbles about the coming of winter and the New Year holiday, written for
newyearcntdown. The title of each segment is the word prompt it was based on. (Also for the prompt of “Festivals of the Quarter” at genprompt_bingo, and the “Fight” installment was submitted for the prompt of “Spark” at fan_flashworks.)I. First Snow
On December the thirteenth, as the Kotetsujo’s passengers were busy cleaning the train in preparation for the New Year’s holiday, someone looked outside and noticed that the season’s first snow was falling.
For a little while the cleaning was interrupted, as people crowded around windows and rifle slits to watch the snow swirling past. Some hearty souls willing to endure the cold even ventured onto the outer decks. They leaned over the railing to catch snowflakes on their tongues, or drew pictures in the frost that already covered the train’s armored hull.
By the next day, the landscape the Kotetsujo moved through was blanketed with white, and some of the passengers—particularly the children—were visibly growing restless. They gazed out wistfully at the sparkle of fresh snow on open land, yearning to leave the cramped confines of the train and play in it.
Miss Ayame fretted and hesitated, but Ikoma reassured her with a smile.
“It’s okay. If Mumei and I keep watch, it’ll be safe to stop just for a little while, and let everyone enjoy the snow.”
That was how the two Kabaneri came to be perched atop the train that afternoon, still and silent as they listened inwardly for their sense of any approaching Kabane, while below them clamored yells and laughter of townsfolk hurling snowballs at each other.
Breaking his intent concentration, Ikoma cracked one eye open to glance furtively at Mumei beside him. He saw her gazing down at the ruckus with pensive longing.
“Go on,” he said softly, and was rewarded with a tremendous smile before she took off like a shot.
Ikoma didn’t mind keeping watch alone. For him, the burden of being the Kotetsujo’s guardian was more than rewarded by the sight of such rare joy in the people he protected.
II. Cold Hands
“Alright, everyone. It’s time to say goodbye to Mr. Snowman!”
As children groaned in disappointment at Kajika’s announcement, Ikoma withdrew from his concentration on lookout duty. He gazed down from atop the Kotetsujo to see passengers slowly regrouping and climbing back aboard the train—perhaps with a bit of gentle herding from the bushi. They’d all had more than an hour of fun romping in the newfallen snow, but it was time to be on their way. The longer the Kotetsujo stayed in one place, the riskier it was.
Ikoma waited until everyone else was inside before he followed. He was just in time to see Kajika throw off her coat and rub her hands together, blowing on them. “It’s so cold outside!”
“Weren’t you wearing gloves?” he asked in concern.
“I… gave mine to a little girl who didn’t have any.” Kajika pinkened, grinning awkwardly. “It’s okay. I’ll just warm my hands up with some hot tea.”
This girl, I swear… Ikoma sighed and stepped closer to her. “Come here.”
“What—?” Kajika squeaked, her eyes widening as he took her hands in his. He drew a breath and gently lifted them to his chest underneath his cloak, pressing her palms over his heart.
Kajika’s pink turned to full-on red, her fingers twitching against his sternum… but after a moment, she relaxed, letting the warmth of his higher body temperature seep into her hands.
“…Thanks, Ikoma.”
The Kabaneri merely smiled, and made a mental note to buy her some new gloves at the next station they visited. For all she chided him about his self-neglect in favor of caring for others, she wasn’t so innocent of it herself.
And besides that, he really didn’t want to be her hand-warmer again—because her hands on his bare skin were like ice.
III. Long Night
Ikoma was beginning to discover that long winter nights were boring.
Provided he was healthy and well-nourished, his Kabaneri body didn’t crave as much sleep as it had when he was human. It was typical for him to remain awake hours after his friends had nodded off, and rise before anyone else did. Mumei wasn’t like this, he noticed; she could fall asleep practically at will. However, she clearly had a different and rather more problematic relationship with sleep. Besides, she was still a child with a lot of growing yet to do.
In summer, Ikoma’s wakefulness was something of a blessing. It allowed him to concentrate on weapon schematics and research notes when there were no distractions… but now in the twilight of the year, the nights were too long to maintain his focus on work. His mind eventually went numb, in need of stimulation to refresh him. Unfortunately, there was little diversion to be had when everyone else was asleep, bundled in blankets to pass the cold of the nights in warm oblivion. Books may have helped, but he was fairly sure he’d already read every book aboard the Kotetsujo—and when it was hard enough just keeping the passengers fed and the train in proper repair, new books were an unaffordable luxury.
Such was the long night of the solstice, when Ikoma pushed away his notebook after its words blurred into a haze. He flopped back on his bunk with a sigh, still too-awake, his mood dull and gray as the underside of the upper bunk he found himself staring at.
He was surprised when Takumi leaned over the side of that bunk, grinning.
“Wanna play a game of shogi?” his best friend whispered.
Ikoma’s bright smile in return was all the answer he needed to give.
IV. Fight
Metallic sparks burst across Ikoma’s vision as he pulled the trigger of his piercing gun, firing a jet bullet into the heart cage of a Kabane. There was a snarl behind him, and he felt fangs sinking into his left shoulder before he twisted, shaking off another one of the monsters. He kicked it in the knee and it went down, exposing its back to the shot that would destroy it as well… but more of them were all around him.
Not all of the red spattered across the white snow was theirs.
Kurusu… can I ask a favor?
When Ikoma asked for the train to be stopped the next time they sighted a small group of Kabane, to let him go down and kill them, the samurai was baffled at first. Then the Kabaneri explained his reason… and if Kurusu hadn’t been, well, Kurusu, Ikoma thought the man’s eyes might almost have teared up.
With flesh torn and muscles aching, Ikoma was almost regretting his request now. Almost.
Even so, he finished the job. Soon a dozen Kabane corpses lay sprawled in the snow, and he made the rounds among them, carefully cutting out their organic-metal heart cages. (A pity that he had to pierce and damage those cages just to harvest them, he thought.)
He spent the rest of the day in the steamsmiths’ workshop on the train. At evening he came to the locomotive’s map room, bearing something wrapped in silk that he presented to Aragane’s kind and courageous leader.
I want to give Miss Ayame a gift. To thank her for believing in me, and saving me, after I became a Kabaneri.
When Miss Ayame saw the beautifully-made tanto, strengthened by the coating of heart-cage metal on its blade, it was she who wept grateful tears.
V. Trimming the Tree
“Ikoma! Come help us make the kadomatsu for New Year’s!”
Leaving off his endless technical notes, Ikoma smiled and approached Kajika’s orphans as they wrestled with several thick, leafless bamboo poles. He had seen the stalks being cut down during one of the train’s recent stops, but he hadn’t realized what they were intended for.
“It looks like you could use some help cutting those,” he observed wryly. As he took a knife and set to work trimming the bamboo into short lengths, each with a sharply angled end, the children began dragging other vegetation out of a sack: pine boughs, red leafless twigs, sprays of bright orange berries that managed to survive the winter’s first snow.
After a few minutes, he felt Mumei’s shadow fall over him. “What are you guys doing?”
“We’re making kadomatsu with bamboo and pine branches for New Year’s Day,” Ichinoshin said earnestly, squinting at her. “Haven’t you ever done that?”
Mumei frowned. “I… kinda remember it? …But not really. What are they for?”
Kotaro grinned. “You’re supposed to put them outside your door. They bring good luck and drive away demons.”
“That’s silly,” Mumei muttered. “There are no demons, just Kabane. And people make their own luck…” Catching a reproving glance from Ikoma, she squirmed. “But still, this stuff is pretty. So what do you do with it?”
Soon the children were happily demonstrating to Mumei how to make a kadomatsu: how to group the pieces of bamboo in threes and tie them with rope, how to tuck in several pine branches around them, how to decorate them with the more colorful twigs and berries. Ikoma watched with satisfaction as his fellow Kabaneri lost herself in the creative effort.
Good luck charm or not, the kadomatsu had something to teach her, all the same.
VI. Inclusion
For all the supply limitations aboard the Kotetsujo, the New Year’s holiday was one occasion when it was important to indulge a little, and lighten the hearts of the passengers.
Under the protection of the Kabaneri, the bushi hunted wild boar. Coupled with vegetables foraged before the snow and some station-bought necessities, the people of Aragane managed to assemble a decent Osechi Ryori: the New Year’s feast. Along with traditional ozoni soup, there was konbumaki—neatly tied bows of kelp filled with pork meat—nesting on beds of kinpira gobo made of braised burdock root and carrots. There were kamaboko fish cakes and pickled lotus-root renkon. For dessert there was zenzai, a soup of sweet red beans, and the prerequisite kuri kinton, a dish of mashed sweet potatoes and candied chestnuts that was exclusively for New Year’s celebrations
Seeing Kajika and several townswomen busy cooking, Ikoma volunteered himself and Mumei to help. Mumei grumbled at first, but soon seemed to enjoy it, frowning in concentration as she tried to tie the konbumaki bows without spilling any of the pork.
For his part, Ikoma couldn’t help thinking about how strange it was that he felt no desire for the treats. Even the most delectable normal foods were now unappealing to his Kabaneri body… while the thing he did crave was something too loathsome to bring into the presence of this special meal.
Accordingly, after helping to serve the dishes, Ikoma announced that he and Mumei would excuse themselves to eat; but Miss Ayame kindly corrected him.
“You two helped make this occasion possible,” she said firmly. “You deserve to share it with us.”
Thus the two Kabaneri sat with their feasting friends… and throughout the evening, not a single soul gave their discreet sips from their blood tubes a second glance.
VII. Bell
It all started when Ikoma overheard a conversation between the bushi.
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to stop at a station for New Year’s,” Miss Ayame was ruefully announcing to Chief Akoji. “No stations in the region we’re passing through were willing to open their gates to us during the holiday.”
Akoji hissed out a sigh. “That’s unfortunate. The people were looking forward to the celebrations—and especially a temple visit.”
“Our own priest can conduct prayers on the train,” Kurusu noted.
“Yes, but it isn’t the same. No fireworks, no food stalls on the temple grounds, no hearing the Joya-no-Kane…”
Miss Ayame blinked at the mention of the traditional New Year’s Eve bell-ringing at temples. “Surely we can improvise the Joya-no-Kane, as we’ve done with so many other things. …I don’t suppose we have any sort of bells aboard the Kotetsujo?”
Kurusu may have almost snorted. “They would hardly have been viewed as necessary cargo during Aragane’s evacuation.”
“I’ll ask around,” Akoji said gloomily. “But to my knowledge, I’m afraid we don’t.”
And that was when the wheels started turning in Ikoma’s head.
He hurried back to the steamsmiths’ workshop. “Guys, do we still have some of the extra scrap metal we salvaged from the wreck of that derailed train?”
“Yes.” Suzuki squinted at the Kabaneri through his goggles. “What do you need it for?”
“A morale booster,” Ikoma said with a smile, and proceeded to outline his plan.
A few nights later, on New Year’s Eve, the unmistakable sound of a bell rang out through each car of the train one hundred and eight times. Far from massive bronze temple bells, they were only small handbells roughly forged from iron; but if their sound was just a little bit hollow and dull, no one seemed to mind.
VIII. First
Just as a hint of gray light was creeping into the sky on the morning of New Year’s Day, people began emerging onto the outer decks of the Kotetsujo. Bundled in whatever coats and blankets they had, they braved the wind-whipped chill of winter, in order to see the first sunrise of a new year.
The light of that dawn would not fall on a world without monsters, or even the rebuilt walls of Aragane Station. Still, for every soul aboard the train, just being there to see this sunrise was a victory. They had survived not only the Kabane, but a nomadic and uncertain way of life that station-dwellers could never dream of. They had adapted to it, learning to harden against the challenges they faced on the rails, and to soften toward the Kabaneri protectors they had come to trust.
Standing on the prow deck, Ikoma studied the friends surrounding him. Miss Ayame smiling behind a fur coat collar, Kurusu hovering close at her side. The orphans forsaking Kajika to huddle around Mumei’s warmth. Yukina and Sukari bickering, Kibito grinning as he watched them. Suzuki wiping his fogged-up goggles… and Takumi, leaning on the railing beside Ikoma with a smile.
Ikoma was not the person he had been when the sun last rose upon a new year. He was better; but it wasn’t because he had become a Kabaneri.
It was all because of them.
“This year we will reclaim Aragane Station,” Miss Ayame asserted, almost in a whisper, as the sunrise washed over the horizon in streaks of pink and orange.
His heart lighting with a determined glow like the rising sun, Ikoma clenched his fist over the cherished stone in his palm… and smiled fiercely.
I’ll do whatever it takes to make that wish come true.
© 2021 Jordanna Morgan