Corpse March

Chapter 17

Haru stares out the window, watching miles and miles of farmland pass in the blink of an eye. Every so often, a group of people wave at them from dinky homesteads. Haru waves back from behind the car window. Well, “Car”. She isn’t sure what to really call this thing. On the exterior, its rounded chassis and bulky armor gives it a sort of hunched appearance. On the interior, there are benches hanging from either side of the car’s walls. Not to mention that it doesn’t even have wheels, instead it’s kept aloft by some kind of invisible force. It sort of reminds her of those trains in the Monarchian base. She sees the improvised welding marks keeping this whole thing together. Sitting in the front, driving the car, is Asuka herself. She steers with one hand and pushes the pedals with a long stick she picked up. Is this safe? Absolutely not. Is Haru wearing her seatbelt? Also absolutely not. 

It’s quiet moments like this that Haru has to ask herself “Does Tsumugi actually know what she’s doing?” what with Asuka being the best help she could find, and all. And it is at this juncture in time that it really dawns on her that the answer is probably no. She looks down at her hands and then at Asuka, and then the farmland outside. Just what exactly is it that she’s gotten herself into? It’s exciting, sure, but she gets the impression that she’s only just starting to scrape the tip of the iceberg. And who knows what lies in wait for her under the glacial waters of the Neo Magical Academy? 

Ah, right. She can’t be saying ‘Neo Magical Academy’ anymore. If she’s to fit in, it’s ‘Takakumo City’ now. Blending in, it’s the most important part of this whole plan. She’s supposed to be just like anyone else right now. People are already going to be wary of her as an outsider, the least she can do is ensure that she doesn’t remind them that she is.

Outside, the farmland comes to an abrupt stop and is replaced by a mass of sheet metal and rust. Slums. Even the mysterious, mystical, magical Takakumo has these, it seems. Miles and miles of them. Grimy marketplaces, greasy peddlers, thin dirt roads, children playing on the street, and the faint smell of food being grilled. It reminds Haru of home.

That little lean-to with a roof that couldn’t keep the rain or cold out of the house. There was never a night she didn’t fall asleep shivering. During the winters, she’d spend her time inside a nearby convenience store, just soaking up the heat. Every so often, she’d treat herself and steal a raunchy magazine from the rack. Surprisingly, her intentions weren’t lecherous, but rather educational, learning from the best of the best if you will. It was her childhood dream to become a pinup model. It always seemed easy to her. What do pinups even do? Look pretty, smile in front of a camera, get paid. Bish bash bosh. Easy money. Then maybe her mom could buy enough of her white powder  Though, her mom never approved of her ambitions. Which was rich coming from someone who works at night and gets brought home by different men every day. For better or for worse Haru’s dreams never did come true. Too many days spent starving stunted her growth and dashed her hopes. Well, on the bright side, she’s never had to buy bigger underwear. And hey, she’s making a killing being part of the mercenary club so it all worked out, she supposes. It’s a little poetic. The mother selling her body and the daughter selling bodies. They made quite the pair. 

“We’re almost there.”

“Already?”

The sun’s only starting to set, casting the changing landscape in a fresh light. Orange glow sweeps over swathes of buildings. Some of them seem inhabited, others seem only half-built. The architectural style makes her feel as though she’s stepped about a hundred or so years into the past. Strange. For all the distaste Takakumo has for the outside world, it seems that they’ve adopted a traditionally Japanese architectural style. The roads are now wide enough that two cars can fit side by side, which is almost never relevant since small crowds of people still force them to drive slowly anyway.Asuka brakes right before a motorcycle cuts them off, or at least something that resembles a floating motorcycle. Again, that seemingly precognitive instinct kicking in. She isn’t surprised though. She understands how it works now.

The scenery changes yet again. They leave the Taisho era behind as they drive in front of what appears to be an Italian villa that’s as luxurious as it is gigantic. The garden by itself seems to cover more than a square mile. And every square foot is either dominated by well-trimmed hedges, spacious marble pavilions, or meticulously arranged flower patches. All of these miniature wonders stowed away behind iron fencing. Fine china hidden away behind a locked cupboard. Haru isn’t even sure some of these are indigenous to Japan. Driving some more, they come to a full stop in front of an enormous gate. There are two deathless standing in front. One raps her knuckles on the driver’s window. Her voice is barely audible through the windows. 

“State your name and purpose.”

“Asuka Katame and this is Haru Hamamoto. She’s here to represent Lady Tsumugi.”

“Papers?”

Asuka looks at Haru, who scrambles to retrieve a piece of paper Tsumugi gave to her before handing it over to the Deathless. She gives it a read. Once, twice.

“You’re clear.”

Asuka nods and pulls on a cord. There’s a tangible thud as the car falls to the ground rather abruptly. Both girls step out of the car and stretch. The warmth of the sun feels good as it seeps into Haru’s skin. She takes a deep, deep breath, letting all the stale air out and all the fresh air in. And because it might have gotten a little carsick, she gives KANNIBAL a good spin. 

“Excuse me, miss. You’ll have to leave that here.”

“...oh, sorry, did you mean me?”

“Weapons are strictly prohibited from entering the Curia.”

“Oh c’mon, what’s a musician to do without her instrument.”

Haru strokes the flat of KANNIBAL’s blade and plucks out a few notes. 

“He don’t bite.”

“Weapons are strictly prohibited from entering the Curia.”

“Fine, fine. Have it your way.”

She makes a sour face as she shoves KANNIBAL into the Deathless’s hands. Her knees buckle and nearly crumple from its sheer weight. Haru rolls her shoulder. KANNIBAL’s not that heavy to her, not in the slightest, but she has to admit it does feel good to give her arms a little rest from carrying it around all day everyday. 

The Deathless opens the gate for Asuka and Haru to enter. A dirt path flanked by stretches of luscious green grass leads to a wide, two-storied building, the beating heart of the villa, the place they called the “Curia”. Through the building’s little windows, Haru sees maids scurry to and fro holding feather dusters, clothes, and platters of steaming food. It all towers over them in its majesty, Haru can almost feel it forcing her head to bow.  

“The meeting’s already begun.”

“R-Right. We should probably hurry then.”

Asuka suddenly breaks into a full sprint, leaving Haru to awkwardly scamper along behind her. Two maids on stand-by push open the front doors and extend open arms to welcome them inside. Asuka gives them a thankful nod as she passes. Haru does not. Hot on her guide’s trail, she follows her through a seemingly endless maze of staircases, doors, maids, portraits, suits of armor, and lush carpeting. It’s all terribly luxurious, and yet, Haru can’t help but feel some strange force repelling her from it all. She’s tempted to call it disgust but it’s not that strong. It all feels… ‘off’ to her. The feeling is only minor, but it’s one that she can’t shake off. After the fourth consecutive flight of stairs, she finally finds Asuka standing in front of a pair of double doors. 

“So… this is it?”

“After you.”

“So do I just…”

Haru makes a strutting motion.

“...let myself in?”

“Yes.”

“Um… alright…”

“...”

“...Will you, uh, hold my hand?”

“Soldiers are forbidden from entering the Curia.”

“O-okay.”