Corpse March

Chapter 30

A solid strike to the flat of Kuroko’s forearm paralyzes it, forcing her to drop the girl to the floor. A nerve strike. The first time Kuroko’s seen it done in actual combat. Electricity spreads from her wrist all the way to her shoulder and her thumb. By the time she can move it again, it’s just in time for her to block the next attack. But the girl seems to have taken that into her calculations as she merely nerve strikes the blocking arm. Again, that electricity spreads through her arm, forcing it to drop, leaving her completely open. The girl gets a solid kick into her stomach. Even with the difference in their physical enhancements, the hit still stings. Not to mention she kicks right where those bullets hit her earlier, driving them even deeper. It’s becoming harder and harder to keep herself standing upright with all the damage she’s taking to her abdomen. 

The girl’s assault is relentless. Again and again, Kuroko’s guard is broken and her abdomen takes more and more damage. She feels the bullets slowly but surely worming their way out the back of her stomach. Stinging digestive fluid and warm blood leak out of her wounds with every kick. Little by little, David beats back the Goliath. Little by little, Kuroko is worn down. Little by little, victory slips from her grasp. And finally, with a final decisive strike directly to her solar plexus, Kuroko feels her feet lift off the ground as she slams against the train’s far wall. Her limp body slides down onto the floor. Above her, completely unhurt, is the twelve-year old girl that bested the beast that just killed upwards of forty people. 

The girl begins to walk away but stops dead in her tracks. She hears danger. And it comes in the form of flesh being ripped apart. It’s not hers. A pool of blood spreads to her heels. She turns just in time to behold Kuroko  ripping out her right arm. Blood spurts wildly from the stump in her shoulder as the last tendon connecting the arm to her body is snapped in two. Her eyes are filled with a kind of grim determination. Just what is her game here? 

Kuroko shakily forms a symbol with her left hand. As she does, strings begin to worm their way out of her open wound. The strings twine themselves into twine, and the twine twines itself into ropes and the ropes twine themselves to form something resembling muscle fibers. She’s crafting herself a new arm. White strings turn blood red from the blood seeping into them. It’s closer to a crude tentacle than an arm but it’s good enough, and more importantly, it’s completely nerveless. 

Kuroko stands up, kicks away her old arm, and advances on the girl in a boxing stance. Kuroko makes the first swing. A full power downwards strike. The girl dodges backwards. Before Kuroko can fully recover, she launches a counterattack in the form of another nerve strike to her knee. But this time, Kuroko’s ready. Bending her string tentacle in an angle that would break an arm limited by its bones in half, she intercepts, wrapping the girl’s neck in string. 

She struggles in her absolute grip. 

“I’ll ask again.”

Kuroko turns to the girl cowering in the cockpit. 

“Stop this train, or the girl dies.”

The mass of string suddenly whips around and slams the girl into the wall. Kuroko feels some of the girl’s ribs break. 

“Alright! Alright! Just don’t hurt Asuka.”

Kuroko turns to the captive girl. So that’s her name… Asuka.

With shaking hands and tears in her eyes, the other girl pulls on a series of levers. There’s a chittering sound as the levitation keeping the train moving forwards suddenly reverses direction. Kuroko nearly falls over from the shift in momentum, but just barely manages to stay on her feet. It is finally done. Her new fingers tremble as she lets go of the girl, walks over to one of the nearby seats and sits down, exhausted. In the distance, she hears the rev of motorcycle engines as the Deathless approach.

Finally… it’s over. She closes her eyes. 

“Doing well?”

“...?”

Kuroko painstakingly opens her eyes to meet the voice. She’s not sure why she’s surprised to see that it’s the girl, Asuka, talking to her when there are only two other people on this train. 

“Are you talking to me?”

“We already lost. There’s nothing left to do but talk.”

“Hm…”

She supposes she’s never thought of it like that before. 

“So?”

“I’m doing alright… You?”

“I think my ribs are broken.”

Something about the deadpan way Asuka says it makes the corners of Kuroko’s mouth turn upwards. Asuka smiles too but not before wincing. 

“Oh. There goes a lung.”

“Let me get that for you.”

Wound Curing

Kuroko holds her hand out and points it where Asuka lays slumped over. Immediately, the other girl jolts, like a puppet with a single taut string. 

“Sorry for the discomfort.”

“I can understand.”

“...”

“...”

The two sit in silence for a while. Every so often, their lips tremble as a thought comes to them, but inevitably, they decide it’s best to not bring it up. 

“You’ve been through a lot.”

“Hm?”

Kuroko raises an eyebrow at Asuka.

“I see it in your eyes.”

“Is your vision telling you that?”

“No. I can tell from experience.”

“Hm…”

“What did you lose?”

“Everything. And you?”

“Everyone.”

Kuroko nods, waiting for the sinking feeling in her stomach to pass. 

“It’s easier to not think about it.”

Just let yourself sink into the soft sand at the bottom of your mind, where nothing can ever reach you, and neither will you reach anything. You’ll be safe there. 

“You can’t run from yourself.”

“Perhaps.”

‘Bury yourself underneath your orders’, ‘Hide from yourself behind a mask of indifference’, ‘Become the invisible warrior– the wind of destruction’. Those are the rules that she lives by. In truth, the girl named Kuroko died a long time ago. In her place is a faceless soldier, born from the heat of a red sun. How long has she been playing pretend? Not even she knows anymore.

“And you?”

“I have a dream.”

“I suppose in spite of everything, you really still are a child, huh?”

“A world without people like you and me.”

She ignores her comment. 

“I dream of a place like that.”

What a childish notion. Cruel, yes, but those are the first words that come to her mind when she hears Asuka talk. Still, in some ways, she does envy her. After all, between them both, only one of them is still truly alive. 

“Will I live to see that promised land?”

“No.”

“Will you?”

“No.”

She speaks without pain, without remorse, but not without grief. That is the role of a soldier. Mercenaries kill. Soldiers die. Little more than pawns on a chessboard. More fleeting than a passing thought. If a human life is cheap, then a soldier’s is worthless.