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prose_alchemistTitle: Beyond the Walls
Author:jordannamorgan
Archive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: G.
Characters: Ikoma.
Setting: General.
Summary: The view from the Kotetsujo was a different world.
Disclaimer: They belong to Kabaneri Committee and other relevant parties. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: Written for the prompt words “Scenery” atfan_flashworks, and “Wilderness” at genprompt_bingo.
As Ikoma opened the hatch leading to the Kotetsujo’s prow deck, he was greeted by an excited babble of young voices.
“Ah, lookit all the flowers!”
“I’ve never seen so many! It’s like they go on forever!”
“What kind are they?”
“It’s hard to tell from here.” That familiar voice belonged to Kajika. “Maybe they’re creeping lettuce… or buttercups? Or even something else that never grew at Aragane Station!”
Stepping out onto the deck, Ikoma saw his friend with her recently-acquired orphan foundlings gathered around her; and beyond them, blazing beneath a midday sun, there stretched a vast open field of yellow flowers which the train was currently passing through. It was such a striking landscape that the Kabaneri himself had to pause and marvel for a brief moment.
Even for him, as for most of the survivors of Aragane Station, the view from the Kotetsujo was a different world.
Apart from brave train crews who made their living crossing the no-man’s-land between stations, travel beyond one’s hometown was rare in Hinomoto. It was natural for people to fear leaving familiar and presumed-safe environments within solid walls; while trains minimized the danger of Kabane attacks by being fast-moving, heavily armored targets, accidents and breakdowns were still a deadly risk. Moreover, many stations bordered on overpopulation as it was, causing them to grow ever more insular. Migrants were almost never welcome, unless they were wealthy nobles or very highly skilled at a trade that was in demand.
For all these reasons, few people who survived the rise of the Kabane ever left the stations where they ended up—and few of their children had ever set foot outside the same station’s walls even once. Even getting a glimpse beyond them was a privilege mainly reserved for bushi atop the watchtowers, and some nobles like the Yomogawa clan, who had been able to claim and build their homes on hills high enough to see something of the surrounding mountains. For everyone else, their worlds were comprised solely of close-quartered towns, limited crop fields and gardens, and the occasional small park or grove of trees, all bound within towering borders of stone. To the young it did not feel claustrophobic because they had never known anything else… and for those old enough to remember the fate of their past unwalled homes, there was comfort in the confining sense of separation from what lurked out there.
In some cases, perhaps too much comfort. Over a week after the fall of Aragane Station, some passengers still cowered in their bunks, afraid to even look through the rifle slits at the fields and forests the Kotetsujo traversed. The chief steamsmith Suzuki, a well-read and well-traveled foreigner, had described this reaction by the strange word kenophobia: a fear of open spaces.
Of course, the thought of the monsters roaming freely in those spaces had much to do with it too, even if the Kotetsujo had passed only a few straggling hordes since their deadly diversion through the mountains. After the loss and terror the people had suffered in three short days, Ikoma couldn’t blame anyone for fearing the very sight of the Kabane.
At least Kajika’s little friends apparently had no such reservations. Ikoma smiled fondly as he stepped forward to greet them. “Hey guys! Enjoying the view?”
The children turned to him, all clamoring gleefully in the affirmative. Kajika simply gave him a knowing smile as he reached her side.
“All done with the repairs you were helping with?”
“At least for today. I’m just taking a break before I start working with some of that metal from the Kabane heart cages. It seems to be stronger than our steel, but I need to perform a few more tests to be sure.”
Kajika grinned. “Well, at least try to relax for a few minutes before you dive back into that stuff. Your timing is great—this area we’re passing through is the prettiest one I’ve seen yet!”
Looking past Kajika’s shoulder, Ikoma saw what she meant. The yellow flowers stretched on seemingly without end, and now he realized that in the distance beyond them, a violet-colored mountain rose against the brighter blue of the sky. A flock of birds glided far overhead, almost as if they would touch the feathery white clouds. All of these were things he recognized individually, from pictures in old books or from more limited examples within station walls, but the full assemblage of them on such a grand scale was still a new experience that took his breath away.
“It’s beautiful,” Ikoma agreed, leaning his arms on the railing.
“We’ve never seen anything like it,” piped up Ichinoshin, the oldest orphan. “Have you?”
“No, I never have.”
Mischievous little Kotaro wrinkled his nose in confusion. “But I heard you weren’t born at Aragane. Didn’t you see stuff like this on the train that took you there from your home?”
Kajika winced in sympathy at Ikoma’s side, but he merely gave the boy a sad and gentle smile. “I’m afraid not. The train that took survivors from my home station was smaller and even more crowded than the Kotetsujo. Since the crew was afraid someone might be carrying the Kabane infection, we all spent the trip locked up in the cargo holds. I remember light coming from outside through rifle slits… but at the time I wasn’t much bigger than you, so I couldn’t really see past the adults, even if I’d tried.”
He could feel Kajika’s soft, pained smile on him. She knew or could at least imagine what he kindly omitted: on that miserable journey, he’d been far too grief-stricken by the loss of his sister to even think about the scenery. All he had really done was sit huddled in a corner, hating himself and hating the Kabane, even hating that some stranger put him aboard that train at all. Wishing instead that he had remained behind to die with Hatsune.
Truthfully, not wishing that on some deeply-ingrained level was an even newer feeling to him than being a Kabaneri. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere in the delicate equation of blood and trust he had forged with people who wanted him to live, he’d come to terms with the simple fact of being alive. Instead of continuing to fuel himself with nothing more than bitter dreams of revenge, he had grasped the realization that he truly could help others this time—and that made all the difference.
Oblivious to the somber memories he’d stumbled into, Kotaro grinned toothily. “But you did get to see mountains close up when you climbed on top of the train!”
“Are you kidding?” Ikoma retorted with a wan smile, welcoming the change of subject. “I was too busy then fighting the Kabane and trying to keep my head from getting taken off by the tunnels!”
“Well, if the pretty scenery is new to you too, you should get to enjoy it for a while!” Ichinoshin asserted brightly. “Come sit with us and watch it go by.”
And that, Ikoma reflected happily, was an offer he couldn’t refuse.
© 2023 Jordanna Morgan
Author:
jordannamorganArchive Rights: Please request the author’s consent.
Rating/Warnings: G.
Characters: Ikoma.
Setting: General.
Summary: The view from the Kotetsujo was a different world.
Disclaimer: They belong to Kabaneri Committee and other relevant parties. I’m just playing with them.
Notes: Written for the prompt words “Scenery” at
fan_flashworks, and “Wilderness” at genprompt_bingo.As Ikoma opened the hatch leading to the Kotetsujo’s prow deck, he was greeted by an excited babble of young voices.
“Ah, lookit all the flowers!”
“I’ve never seen so many! It’s like they go on forever!”
“What kind are they?”
“It’s hard to tell from here.” That familiar voice belonged to Kajika. “Maybe they’re creeping lettuce… or buttercups? Or even something else that never grew at Aragane Station!”
Stepping out onto the deck, Ikoma saw his friend with her recently-acquired orphan foundlings gathered around her; and beyond them, blazing beneath a midday sun, there stretched a vast open field of yellow flowers which the train was currently passing through. It was such a striking landscape that the Kabaneri himself had to pause and marvel for a brief moment.
Even for him, as for most of the survivors of Aragane Station, the view from the Kotetsujo was a different world.
Apart from brave train crews who made their living crossing the no-man’s-land between stations, travel beyond one’s hometown was rare in Hinomoto. It was natural for people to fear leaving familiar and presumed-safe environments within solid walls; while trains minimized the danger of Kabane attacks by being fast-moving, heavily armored targets, accidents and breakdowns were still a deadly risk. Moreover, many stations bordered on overpopulation as it was, causing them to grow ever more insular. Migrants were almost never welcome, unless they were wealthy nobles or very highly skilled at a trade that was in demand.
For all these reasons, few people who survived the rise of the Kabane ever left the stations where they ended up—and few of their children had ever set foot outside the same station’s walls even once. Even getting a glimpse beyond them was a privilege mainly reserved for bushi atop the watchtowers, and some nobles like the Yomogawa clan, who had been able to claim and build their homes on hills high enough to see something of the surrounding mountains. For everyone else, their worlds were comprised solely of close-quartered towns, limited crop fields and gardens, and the occasional small park or grove of trees, all bound within towering borders of stone. To the young it did not feel claustrophobic because they had never known anything else… and for those old enough to remember the fate of their past unwalled homes, there was comfort in the confining sense of separation from what lurked out there.
In some cases, perhaps too much comfort. Over a week after the fall of Aragane Station, some passengers still cowered in their bunks, afraid to even look through the rifle slits at the fields and forests the Kotetsujo traversed. The chief steamsmith Suzuki, a well-read and well-traveled foreigner, had described this reaction by the strange word kenophobia: a fear of open spaces.
Of course, the thought of the monsters roaming freely in those spaces had much to do with it too, even if the Kotetsujo had passed only a few straggling hordes since their deadly diversion through the mountains. After the loss and terror the people had suffered in three short days, Ikoma couldn’t blame anyone for fearing the very sight of the Kabane.
At least Kajika’s little friends apparently had no such reservations. Ikoma smiled fondly as he stepped forward to greet them. “Hey guys! Enjoying the view?”
The children turned to him, all clamoring gleefully in the affirmative. Kajika simply gave him a knowing smile as he reached her side.
“All done with the repairs you were helping with?”
“At least for today. I’m just taking a break before I start working with some of that metal from the Kabane heart cages. It seems to be stronger than our steel, but I need to perform a few more tests to be sure.”
Kajika grinned. “Well, at least try to relax for a few minutes before you dive back into that stuff. Your timing is great—this area we’re passing through is the prettiest one I’ve seen yet!”
Looking past Kajika’s shoulder, Ikoma saw what she meant. The yellow flowers stretched on seemingly without end, and now he realized that in the distance beyond them, a violet-colored mountain rose against the brighter blue of the sky. A flock of birds glided far overhead, almost as if they would touch the feathery white clouds. All of these were things he recognized individually, from pictures in old books or from more limited examples within station walls, but the full assemblage of them on such a grand scale was still a new experience that took his breath away.
“It’s beautiful,” Ikoma agreed, leaning his arms on the railing.
“We’ve never seen anything like it,” piped up Ichinoshin, the oldest orphan. “Have you?”
“No, I never have.”
Mischievous little Kotaro wrinkled his nose in confusion. “But I heard you weren’t born at Aragane. Didn’t you see stuff like this on the train that took you there from your home?”
Kajika winced in sympathy at Ikoma’s side, but he merely gave the boy a sad and gentle smile. “I’m afraid not. The train that took survivors from my home station was smaller and even more crowded than the Kotetsujo. Since the crew was afraid someone might be carrying the Kabane infection, we all spent the trip locked up in the cargo holds. I remember light coming from outside through rifle slits… but at the time I wasn’t much bigger than you, so I couldn’t really see past the adults, even if I’d tried.”
He could feel Kajika’s soft, pained smile on him. She knew or could at least imagine what he kindly omitted: on that miserable journey, he’d been far too grief-stricken by the loss of his sister to even think about the scenery. All he had really done was sit huddled in a corner, hating himself and hating the Kabane, even hating that some stranger put him aboard that train at all. Wishing instead that he had remained behind to die with Hatsune.
Truthfully, not wishing that on some deeply-ingrained level was an even newer feeling to him than being a Kabaneri. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere in the delicate equation of blood and trust he had forged with people who wanted him to live, he’d come to terms with the simple fact of being alive. Instead of continuing to fuel himself with nothing more than bitter dreams of revenge, he had grasped the realization that he truly could help others this time—and that made all the difference.
Oblivious to the somber memories he’d stumbled into, Kotaro grinned toothily. “But you did get to see mountains close up when you climbed on top of the train!”
“Are you kidding?” Ikoma retorted with a wan smile, welcoming the change of subject. “I was too busy then fighting the Kabane and trying to keep my head from getting taken off by the tunnels!”
“Well, if the pretty scenery is new to you too, you should get to enjoy it for a while!” Ichinoshin asserted brightly. “Come sit with us and watch it go by.”
And that, Ikoma reflected happily, was an offer he couldn’t refuse.
© 2023 Jordanna Morgan