Corpse March

Chapter 11

“Not here. Bear with me for a moment.”

Tsumugi ducks from the prying eyes of the soldiers still milling about and sets off into the forest. She’s careful to avoid dragging Haru along the ground. They must have gone a full minute deep into the forest before Tsumugi finally sets her down on a small bed of grass. A sound like a shiver of a bell toll rings out as she taps her staff hilt against the ground. Soft blue light begins to emanate from the crystal like smoke from a censer.

“Geburah.”

The sound of a sword being drawn. A black scythe blade manifests from the center of the crystal, as though an invisible cloth was just pulled off of it and it was there all along. With a single strike, she reaps the links holding Haru’s arms and legs together. Along with a piece of her skirt’s hem but she doesn’t care. The refreshing feeling of her suddenly free wrists is reward enough. 

“Thank fuck.”

Well, she knows what she would have done. She would have burned the shit out of as many sons-of-bitches as possible before her body fills to the brim with lead. Haru massages her wrists while Tsumugi brushes the grass down, creating a little padding to cushion herself with as she sits down. Tsumugi gently rests her hand on Haru shoulder, trying to give her some semblance of comfort.

“Are you feeling alright?

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“I’m really sorry about… that. About everything. About Kagami the most.”

“Kagami…”

Her lifeless eyes flash in her mind. She tries to shake them off but they stay glued there. 

“She’s really… gone?”

“Yeah...”

“You checked?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?”

Tsumugi looks down on the ground. She isn’t sure if it’s to avoid the pain in Haru’s eyes or to hide her own pain. 

“Yes. Without a shadow of a doubt.”

Silence reigns for a moment. 

“I never even got to know her.”

Haru’s voice is vacant. Like all the pomp, pretense, and sing-song energy just suddenly vanished. 

“Ah well. It’s a waste but it can’t be helped.”

Then they’re back again. Haru springs back up onto her feet. 

“Aight. I’m done grieving.”

“Wh– that fast?”

“I knew her for like, eight hours. Of course I’m over it.”

“I see…”

Tsumugi lifts up her glasses and wipes a tear from her cheek. For an instant, Haru thinks she catches a tiny whisper of her eye.

“You seem… sad. I thought that you and Kagami weren’t on good terms?”

“We aren’t… weren’t. We weren’t. She was an idiot who loved danger and hated thinking things through. But she was my friend. Even Gleam she got along with. I… I never thought it would come to– to– to this!”

“Gleam…”

Something clicks inside of Haru’s head. 

“Do you think… that girl you mentioned, Gleam, might have something to do with this?”

“Gleam? No… No! It’s impossible! They were friends! Gleam wouldn’t–”

She stops. ‘Gleam wouldn’t kill one of her friends’ is what she wants to say but the words don’t come out. Would she? If it meant seizing the throne for herself, would she? 

“From what you told me, Gleam’s poised to take the throne now that her main rival is out of the way. No matter how you look at it, she’s definitely the one who benefits the most from this–”

“Enough. Please.”

Tsumugi’s voice suddenly takes on a whimper.

“I cannot bear to listen to you speak ill about my friend any longer. ”

“...oh.”

Haru falls silent. 

“Were you guys… like… close?”

“There’s no one I trusted more.”

“What happened? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Tsumugi shakes her head. 

“Once upon a time, we saw eye-to-eye. She rose up in the world. Then we stopped seeing eye-to-eye. That’s all there is to that story.”

Haru nods to herself as she lies back on the ground. She can’t see the stars from behind the thick canopy. The sound of rustling grass reaches her ears as Tsumugi sits by her side, cross-legged. 

“I’m sorry. This is unsightly to watch.”

“It’s okay. Your friend just died, so yeah.”

“Yes, and I enjoy being reminded of that fact.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for snapping. I’m not myself right now. I’m just…not doing so well. My friend just died, and my best friend might be the one who killed her. I… what do I even do? What am I supposed to do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?”

She pinches the bridge of her nose and falls silent for a long, long, time. 

“So… what are you going to do?”

“I… I think… I’d like to go home.”

“What’ll you do once you get back to the Neo Magical Academy?”

“I dunno. I’ll talk to Gleam. She’ll know what to do.”

“Gleam?! But she–”

“Yes, I get it, I get it. But I just… I just don’t know, alright? I don’t know what to do next. Plus, it’s not like we can definitively prove that she did it, right? I’m sure everything will go smoothly if I just… just act like nothing happened. Yeah… everything can go back to normal if I just put this all behind me–”

Haru nearly smacks herself before actually smacking Tsumugi. 

“Ack–! That hurt!”

“Did it now?”

“Yes!”

“Well good. Remember that pain.”

“What? Why?”

Haru takes a deep, deep, deep exasperated sigh.

“Are you hearing yourself right now? Your friend just died. And you’re suggesting making buddy-buddy with the person who probably just killed her. What kind of bullshit is that?”

She’s on the verge of stamping her foot in a tantrum. 

“Well. When you put it like that…”

“I’m not putting it any way, that’s what it is, that’s what you’re doing.”

“Then what do you propose I do?”

“Fight, dammit! Your friend just died! And your home is in danger of being taken over by Gleam! Do something about it! Now’s the time to get mad! Get really mad! Get pissed the fuck off! LIKE THIS!”

Haru brings her ax around in a wicked arc. There’s the sound of harsh creaking closely followed by a snapping sound as KANNIBAL breaks a tree in half. It doesn’t cut, no, it’s not sharp enough for that. All that propels it is Haru’s brute strength. 

“RAAAAGH! NOTHING’S GOING MY FUCKING WAY!”

Haru clears her throat and smooths the wrinkles out of her blouse. 

“Yes, sorry. I have a bad habit of getting spirited away but yes, I find that yelling has therapeutic properties.”

“O-okay? Like… this?”

Tsumugi takes her conjured scythe blade and raps it against the side of the fallen tree trunk. She does it a few more times for good measure. 

“I feel a little bit better now… I guess…”

“Good, good. You’ll need that brave face back on. The others can’t see you being all weak and what not.”

“Yeah… you’re right, you’re right. Was it that obvious?”

“Nah, not really, I’ve just got an eye for these sorts of things. I’m not supposed to tell you this but mercenary work is partially bodyguarding for the elite. Either way, it was only a matter of time until I got an idea of what a brave face looks like.”

“I see… you seem more storied a veteran than I thought.”

“Nah. I’m like top 70th percentile at best, though I do have a few stories under my belt.”

“You’ll have to tell me more about those stories sometime. For now, it’s about time we start heading back.”

“Can do, chief.”

“I hope Kikimi and the others aren’t in too bad of a mood.”

The two return to a scene and a half at the camp. All the recently turned widows are gathered around the flame. Their shadows grow longer and longer while the firelight dances on their faces. Different shades of anger and sorrow smear their brows, but their eyes are untouched. Their eyes are crystal clear. Haru feels a miasma envelop her as she walks into the almost mystic beauty of the scene. She wonders if Tsumugi feels the same. 

“Report.”

Gone is any trace of the vulnerability Tsumugi showed Haru earlier. It’s like she’s suddenly been replaced by the Muse of the Student Council. One of the widows, a tall one with thin shoulders stands up to greet them. She has this expression on her face like someone just died. Oh right, Haru almost forgot. The widow reminds Haru a little of Kuroko. 2/10 just for that and minus extra points for the smell. Pass. 

“Sniper missing, ma’am. Investigation yielded minor traces of suspect activity.”

She raises her hand and points to a nearby grove. 

“The shot originated from around that area. We also found this.”

The girl reaches into her pocket and takes out a silken red handkerchief. It seems to be of particularly expensive make. It has no pattern on it save for a single black stripe running down its side. Haru looks it up and down for maybe a pair of initials like you see in the movies but nothing.

“Do you know anyone who might own this?”

“Not a clue, ma’am.”

A chill travels up and down Haru’s spine. She gets the feeling that whatever she’s gotten into, there’s no way out now.