Corpse March

Chapter 44 I Guess You Guys Aren't Ready For That Yet

“Excuse me.” 

Tsuki forages through a forest of drinks and elaborate ball gowns. She stares at them with mild envy. She always wanted to try dressing up, but her… ‘condition’… never let her. Fun fact, people don’t typically make clothes for mechanical bodies for good reason.

Still, it's not as though the night is completely ruined, now is a good time to indulge vice or curiosity. And she finds herself in a unique position to indulge both.  Tsuki's eyes drift off elsewhere, to a curious face in a curious crowd  

"Excuse me. Kikimi, was it?" Tsuki’s tone is polite but the way she stops Kikimi with her hand is just a little too forceful to be purely innocent. 

"Wh– what do you want?" Her shivering causes soft clinks to sound as they travel up Tsuki’s arm.

"What anyone else would want on a fine evening such as this. A drink and fine company."

"Sorry, I– um, I don't drink."

"Trust me. The iced water here is sublime." Tsuki smiles, but Kikimi senses something else hiding behind those eyes of hers. Wordlessly, she takes a seat next to Tsuki. The bartender comes over to take their order. 

“For my beautiful partner, a glass of milk.” Tsuki uses the word ‘beautiful’ generously here. Kikimi’s fair complexion is ruined by her poor outfit choice. It’s as though she just picked something she thinks a rich person would wear and called it a day. Which, taking her background into account, makes sense.  “And for me… a martini. Shaken, not stirred."

She can't remember where she heard that phrase but she's always ordered her martinis that way ever since. The bartender gives her a nod and hurriedly sets off preparing their order.

“So, you’re Lady Kentomi’s replacement.”

“...”

“Or would you prefer the term ‘Heiress’?”

“I have no preference towards either.”

“Curious.”

The bartender places their drinks on the counter. Tsuki wastes no time. She swirls her drink once, twice, then downs it all in one go. 

“Ahhhh. That hit the spot.”

“...”

“You know, I don’t actually have a stomach…” Tsuki unbuttons her cloak and brushes the fabric aside, revealing her mechanical insides. Only her head is organic. From the neck down, she’s all clockwork. “...Or a liver, or a heart, or kidneys and I’m beginning to suspect I don’t have a brain either.” 

She laughs at her own joke. “Still, it’s nice to see that I can get drunk.”

“...”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not some kind of barely functioning alcoholic. I just enjoy getting a little buzzed from time to time.” 

“You’re… Tsuki.” 

“Why yes.” She chortles. “Yes I am.” 

“As in… that Tsuki.” 

“Why yes, I am aware of my reputation.”

“You’re supposed to only cross paths with the sinful."

“Supposedly.” Tsuki shrugs. “Though, that only seems natural when it’s my duty to seek out sinners to mete out punishment for sin. I would wager that I could beat anyone to a bloody pulp and people would assume they were in the wrong.” 

“...”

“I kid, of course.” Tsuki grins, knowing full well that she isn’t.  

“Have I done anything wrong?”

“If you have, I will find out and mete out equivalent punishment.” Tsuki’s eyes don’t move from Kikimi’s face. “That is, unless you would like to confess right now. Any information that makes the conduct of my duty easier will not be met with punishment, rather the opposite, it will be met with leniency.”

“...I have nothing to confess.”

“You’re a soldier, aren’t you? That means you’ve most likely killed people before.”

“I’ve killed Monarchs. I don’t know about people.”

“You’ve killed people.” For some reason that escapes Kikimi, Tsuki’s smile grows genuine. “That’s good. That means you’re doing your job.” 

“Is that the sin you’ve come to punish?”

“Not in the slightest. Though, I am rather curious, do you ever feel less than human because of it?”

“...”

“Don’t be shy. Think of this as a confessional.”

“What’s a confessional?”

“...right. Just think of it as an interrogation. A very liberating interrogation.” Tsuki downs another martini. “Anyway, you were saying?” 

“I don’t feel less than human.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“No. Monarchs are our mortal enemies. Killing them protects Takakumo. Why would I be ashamed of that?”

“Well, lucky you. For most others, the propaganda hasn’t sunk nearly as deep and they end up feeling guilt for what they’ve done.”

“Does that make me one of the lucky ones?”

“Yes. And equal parts gullible.”

“Hmph.” Kikimi takes a sip of her milk. “What you said about the other soldiers… is that true?”

“Of course.” Tsuki sighs as she downs another martini. “Most people say that wisdom comes with age… maybe… maybe… But in my experience, wisdom comes from distance. After all, it is only with distance can one see the full picture.” 

“It’s an interesting thought.”

“It’s ironic, no? Only by being inhuman can one come to truly understand humanity. And you would be amazed at what kinds of things these soldiers who have lost all semblance of humanity would tell you about being human.” 

“And what is it exactly that you have learned?”

“That I am human after all. I am… human.” She says it twice, as though she’s trying to reassure herself. “So long as you have one thing that ties yourself to being human, then you are human. Even despite all of…” Tsuki brushes her cloak aside to emphasize her machine body. “...This.” 

“And what about me? Am I human?”

“Your grief ties you to your humanity, just as family ties me to mine.” 

“You know nothing of grief.” 

“And neither do you.” Tsuki starts swirling her martini. “If I had to guess, there’s something that’s still keeping you from being able to truly grieve. Some distraction. Maybe some kind of duty or mission?”

“...”

Tsuki stares at Kikimi for a long, long time. “You’re conspiring with Florence to take the throne of Takakumo, are you not?”

Kikimi turns to Tsuki, eyes widened. Her heart stops beating as she stares death in the face. 

“That’s enough, Tsuki.” Like a ray of light in the suffocating darkness, Florence’s voice lifts an unimaginably heavy weight off of Kikimi’s chest. He protectively places his hand on her shoulder. “You may go, Kikimi. Tsuki and I have much to discuss.” 

“Yes, go ahead and run along now.” Tsuki doesn’t even look at Kikimi as she waves her off. Her eyes, sharpened like a tiger’s, are focused entirely on Florence. “Good luck with your speech later.” 

Kikimi says nothing. In the distance, A shy “Heyyy everyone” suddenly blares through the gala. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“H-Heyyyy everyone.” 

Haru hears a few ‘Hey’s from the crowd. Sweat dots her brow. She looks to her left– nothing. To her right– no one. To her front, a crowd of Takakumo’s elite. They poke holes into her flimsy smile. To her back, she senses Tsumugi silently cheering her on from backstage. She swallows. 

Read the script, Haru, read the script. 

…

Where is it?

She pats herself down, desperately feeling around for a crinkle. 

WHERE IS IT?!

“Um.”

Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t–

It’s not here. 

… 

… 

…

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

If she didn’t have everyone’s attention before, she most definitely has it now. 

“I… um…”

Okay, okay, okay, okayokayokayokay. Don’t panic, Haru, don’t panic. Just go off of what you remember. She takes a shallow breath. 

“So, my name is Haru… Haru um…” She snaps her fingers, trying to remember her name. “Hamamoto. Right, um, that’s my name. Haha.”

“...”

“Just a little something funny that I like to start with.” She deflects.

“...” It doesn’t work.

What else do you remember?

“Is everyone enjoying themselves?”

A few yes’s from the crowd but most just stare in apprehension. 

“That’s nice to hear. Yep.”

What else?

“My name’s Haru.”

You already said that.

“A– and I’m the security chief this evening. So… you can rest assured you’re all in good hands, y– yeah?”

What else? 

“...”

What else?

“Um…”

What el– ah, fuck it.

Haru lowers her head and walks over to where the band is.  “Okay guys, this is a blues riff from B. Watch me for the changes and try to keep up, okay?”

She walks back over to the podium, twirling KANNIBAL in her hand. “Okay, so, uh, this is KANNIBAL.” Haru raises her guitar to muted applause “And with her, I’m going to play you all a little song. It’s a bit of an oldie. I mean… it’s a bit of an oldie where I come from.” 

She strums out a rapid-fire series of wavering chords. “Here we go.”