Mumei—Hozumi

Seeing Kurumi walking barefoot on the steel floor, Ayame hurriedly instructed an attendant to bring a spare pair of geta.

The girl's petite feet barely filled half the standard-size geta, making soft, shuffling sounds as she walked, a bit endearingly clumsy.

Since they'd been warned ahead of time about forcing their way through Haruhiko Station, the civilians didn't dare sleep, fearing they might not wake up if they did.

As they passed through Haruhiko, the repeated bangs on the car roofs and the gunshots ringing out in other cars left the civilians clutching at their chests in worry.

When a strange gust of wind passed by and everything fell silent, their hearts pounded as they waited for the outcome.

Would the samurai emerge victorious, or would the defense line break?

Finally, through the intercom pipes, Ayame's voice echoed firmly, delivering news of their victory, and only then did their hearts calm down.

Lady Tokisaki, was it?

Hearing that heavily praised name, though unrecognized, they imagined it belonged to some grand and mighty samurai.

"Rokkon Shojo!" Ayame raised her arm in triumphant salute.

And those who had barely clung to life, after the initial shock and fear faded, also cheered.

"Rokkon Shojo!" (Peace be with you)

But all this meant little to Kurumi now, who lay in the makeshift hammock with Mumei nestled in her arms.

In fact, the triumphant shouts outside only annoyed her somewhat.

As the train moved, the hammock swayed gently from side to side.

Kurumi curled up a bit, pulling Mumei closer.

In the small space, only their soft breathing could be heard.

"Kurumi-nee," Mumei whispered, looking up at Kurumi as she lay in her arms.

Though once hesitant about sharing a sleeping space, Mumei had become more eager since that night when she'd tasted Kurumi's blood.

Kurumi's blood was unlike anything Mumei had ever tasted. It had none of the metallic tang, nor that thick, choking consistency—it was clean, almost sweet. And, as she drank it, Mumei could feel the dark spots of her Kabane nature slow in their spread.

It even seemed to increase her physical strength.

It didn't feel like human blood at all.

Even the scent of Kurumi herself stirred something irresistible within Mumei, making her long for another taste.

It was like catnip, tugging at her heart.

But no matter how hard she tried to act cute or beg, Kurumi refused to let her drink again.

Maybe it was due to being part Kabane, but Mumei's body was light and soft, warm as she lay against Kurumi, sniffing lightly. Her unique gaze glimmered warmly in the night.

In every way, Mumei suited Kurumi's tastes.

Like a little cat, without the habit of bringing back odd things in the middle of the night.

"Kurumi-nee…" she whispered, tilting her head up.

In the darkness, Kurumi slowly opened her eyes.

Even though all the train's lights had been switched off, and everything was pitch black, as a Kabane, Mumei could still see the beautiful wine-red eye gazing back at her.

And the other eye, usually hidden beneath her bangs—the one that was golden, mechanical, like a clock.

It was the first time Mumei was this close, carefully looking into Kurumi's eyes.

She stared in amazement.

In that clock-like eye, twelve precise marks could be seen, along with hands of varying lengths.

The hands even seemed to tremble slightly.

A bit taken aback, she lifted her right hand, reaching out, only for Kurumi to gently catch it.

"What's wrong?"

Whatever she'd been thinking before was gone, her mind left with only one question.

"Kurumi-nee… are you human?"

Maybe it was because she herself wasn't fully human, or maybe it was because children's minds viewed the world as mysterious and wondrous.

Mumei wasn't frightened; she was just overwhelmingly curious.

Kurumi remained silent, then finally replied.

"No."

Rather than fear, Mumei felt her excitement grow. She wriggled closer, eyes gleaming.

"Then… Kurumi-nee, are you a Kabaneri?"

"No."

Kurumi answered again.

Deep down, Mumei already had her answer. Taking a deep breath, she asked one more question.

"Then… Kurumi-nee, are you a deity?"

"Nope," Kurumi replied with a smile, ruffling Mumei's hair.

"Tell me, Mumei—what's with all the questions today?"

"Aren't you, though?" Mumei asked in confusion. "The other day, Shino-san acted so grateful and reverent toward you, like she was worshiping a goddess."

Shino, huh?

Kurumi thought back to the pregnant woman. Surely anyone who faced someone who had both killed and saved them would react like that, as if before a goddess.

"Well… I'm a spirit, you see."

"Spirit?" Mumei repeated with a puzzled look.

So it was something like a goddess.

But Mumei had prepared herself; everything from Kurumi's mysterious food to her ability to reverse Shino's Kabane infection seemed almost miraculous.

"Then… Kurumi-nee, what's your purpose in this world?" Mumei snuggled against her, still somewhat in disbelief.

"Did you come because you heard the cries of this world's suffering?"

"Oh, my… I told you before." Kurumi looked down at Mumei. "I heard a child's wish and came here."

"I wanted to see what that child was like, so I stayed."

Kurumi's answer was the same as it had been in Yashiro Station.

"So, can you tell me what Mumei's real name is?" Kurumi asked gently, cradling her.

Her tone was so soft, reminding Mumei of a long-forgotten, gentle embrace from long ago.

"Mumei is Mumei. Mumei is my name," Mumei mumbled into Kurumi's chest. "My brother gave it to me."

"Well… what about before you met your brother?"

Mumei stiffened, her body tensing up as memories flooded back—of her mother, who'd been shot with a steam rifle by a crazed stranger while trying to protect her.

It was all because of her weakness… that they'd been slaughtered.

Kurumi gently stroked her back, soothing her tense body until Mumei slowly relaxed.

She whispered gently into Mumei's ear, luring out her response.

"What was your name before you were 'Mumei'?"

"… Hozumi."

She answered quietly.

Hearing her answer, Kurumi's lips curled into a slight smile.

As I thought… that was Mumei's wish.

"Hozumi," Kurumi murmured.

"Huh?"

"Your mother… she wanted you to have your fill of food; that's what your name means."

"Hozumi…" Mumei's expression darkened.

"Rice… can't be grown anymore. And besides… my food now is blood."

Kurumi didn't answer, only held her tighter.

"If it's Mumei's wish… it'll come true, you know."

Compared to "Mumei," Kurumi much preferred the name "Hozumi."

Yet despite her sweet words, Kurumi didn't have a single idea of how to fulfill Mumei's wish.

If Mumei died as a Kabaneri, she would only resurrect again as a Kabaneri.

Kurumi mused over this as she held Mumei even closer.

The girl's breathing slowly grew steadier, and the small hand gripping Kurumi's collar gradually relaxed.

After all, she was just a girl of about twelve or thirteen.

The rhythmic sounds of the train's machinery set the hammock swaying slightly.

As the night deepened, two glowing lines—fiery red like molten lava—gradually appeared across Mumei's cheeks, glowing in sync with her breaths, warm but not intense.

Since drinking Kurumi's blood, Mumei transformed into this state each night, as if evolving.

Kurumi gently pinched Mumei's soft, delicate-like cheeks, reminding her of cherry blossom petals in early spring.

"Hozumi…"

The Koutetsujou made its way toward Nagimine Ridge.

The nearest station, Yashiro Station, was nearly a week's journey away.

Supplies were running low, and they had to account for the possibility that Yashiro had fallen, rationing enough provisions for the next leg of the journey.

Yet everything continued to move forward, at least in appearance.

Ikoma's skills as a Kabaneri were quickly developing, as he trained under Mumei and Kurusu's guidance.

Mumei herself noticed a few new quirks with her body. For example… she seemed to be hitting a bit harder than usual, enough to knock Ikoma straight into the floor, leaving him unconscious.

Probably nothing to worry about, Mumei thought, though she eyed the dent in the metal floor beneath Ikoma's head.

Maybe… but better call Kurumi-nee to check, just in case.

Mumei had also become closer to the women and children on board. In fact, given her naturally lively personality, it was only natural they'd take a liking to her.

The children even had a nickname for her: "Big Bodyguard."

"Kurumi~~~ Nee~~~!" Mumei sneaked up behind Kurumi, who was leaning against the guardrail, enjoying the scenery. She stretched up on her toes and covered Kurumi's eyes. "Guess who~~~?"

"Hozumi."

"Ugh, Kurumi-nee, stop saying that name!" Mumei pouted, slumping beside her.

"Why?" Kurumi's lips curved into a smile. "Isn't Hozumi a lovely name?"

"Eh—!?" Mumei's face turned bright red. "B-but, Mumei… Mumei's already Mumei."

For a moment, the girl could barely speak, stumbling over her words.

"Oh? But I still prefer Hozumi."

"L-like? What's there to like?" Mumei buried her head deep in her hands.

"Hozumi… was weak. It was because she was so weak that everything happened the way it did…"

Her voice trailed off.

Mumei hadn't become a Kabaneri by infection, like Ikoma, but rather… she'd been made into one. Her "brother," as she called him, had forcibly transformed her.

But whenever she mentioned that brother of hers, Mumei's mood would shift to something odd.

It made it hard for Kurumi to get information out of her.

"Hmm… so, the Hunters?" Kurumi's wine-red eyes flashed with a touch of distaste.

"Then the Hunters' leader… Mumei's 'brother'... should be—"

"Son of the Shogun, Amatori… Biba."

Kurumi's clones had been spreading out across this island nation, gathering intel to report back to her.

"He's dead meat."

Everything was proceeding according to plan; the rail line stretched far into the distance, with Yashiro Station lying ahead.

With the lesson of Haruhiko Station fresh in their minds, the Koutetsujou stopped early, pausing atop a hill near Yashiro.

Originally, they'd planned to restock supplies and provisions at Yashiro, but there was no response to the Koutetsujou's whistle, and the drawbridge remained lowered.

Clearly, Yashiro had fallen to the Kabane as well.

The Koutetsujou's atmosphere was heavy.

But then, through the binoculars, a column of smoke rose within Yashiro.

"Confirmed smoke signal ahead! Looks like there are survivors," a samurai shouted.

There were survivors in this fallen station.

Ayame looked to Kurusu.

"Proceed immediately with the rescue!" she ordered the engineer.

"We can barely keep ourselves safe, and now we're risking ourselves to save others?" Kurumi's gaze softened, looking down. But, it was this very disposition of Ayame's that earned Kurumi's respect.

But… they had to go to Yashiro.

The Koutetsujou's supplies would barely get them back to Nagimine Ridge, let alone reroute to Ishikoori Station.

One way or another, they had to take the risk.

Slowly, the Koutetsujou entered Yashiro Station.

With its high walls, Yashiro was a stronghold—yet, despite this, it had still fallen to the Kabane.

The walls showed no damage whatsoever… almost as if the Kabane had slipped inside by some cunning means.

But was that even possible?

Could the Kabane… have developed intelligence?

The Koutetsujou pulled into the station platform without encountering a single Kabane.

Samurai disembarked, patrolling and standing guard as another group moved to assist the survivors who had set off the smoke signal.

Discontented murmurs echoed through the Koutetsujou, but these were quickly silenced.

One could already see the beginning of Ayame's authority shining through.

The survivors boarded the Koutetsujou, where women in charge of logistics provided them with food and water.

Mumei played with the children, making silly faces and quickly establishing herself as their ringleader.

Kurumi, meanwhile, stood deep in thought, gazing toward another distant exit.

There… lay something ominous.

A shadow drifted from her feet, slipping forward to investigate.

Among the survivors waiting for rations was a one-eyed, one-legged man with the sharp gaze of a hawk. He watched Mumei as she played with the children, slipping out under the pretense of using the restroom.

"I'll wait for you outside."

···

"It's been a while," he said, leaning against a wall when Mumei appeared.

"The Shogunate has purchased a vast arsenal, not to use against the Kabane, but against the people. Go inform the young lord." he instructed.

"I refuse to betray the Shogunate or Lord Biba," Mumei replied coldly.

The man scoffed. "Hah?"

Mumei tilted her head mockingly. "Even so, you won't be able to return to Brother-sama's side."

She turned to leave. "Goodbye."

But just then, the man flicked his wrist, sending a hidden blade flying toward her.

Without even looking, Mumei raised her kunai, deflecting it.

"What's this?"

"You didn't give me an answer," the man said, a twisted smile on his face.

"Even if you're Brother-sama's informant, if you overstep, I'll kill you," Mumei said, turning her head slightly.

"And just who's killing whom?" the man laughed, holding his sword ready as he closed in on her.

"Oh?" Mumei swiped her right arm, knocking his blade aside, then twisted and delivered a crushing downward kick, sending him flying backward.

The man crashed into the wall, his broken blade spinning to the ground as he struggled to rise.

"Yes, let's see… just who's going to kill whom?"

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