Smells good. Sitting on one corner of his bunk, shifting his feet so various small chattering groups didn't step on them, Ikoma breathed in the warmth of stewed meat, sweet potato, and whatever strange herbs people had found. A little odd, but good.

Close enough on the bunk to bump him, Kajika's foundlings settled down a little; as if they finally believed they'd get seconds. Though Kajika hadn't waved for another serving yet, busy trying to convince baby Ikko not to chew spilled stew out of his shirt. Kibito was seated across the way, gesturing with a spoon to some of the other bushi as they went over the more dramatic parts of pulling out, trying not to laugh as the kids gave Kajika and dark-haired Tsuta wide, pleading eyes.

A shimmer like rose petals caught his eye. Ikoma smiled as Ayame stopped by yet another small group to exchange a few words on how were their neighbors, what ideas did they have for the salvage, and how had the spices in the stew come out here, every car seemed to have found a different blend...

They made something she can fight in, Ikoma thought, watching the way silks and linen flowed with her steps, never binding where it mattered. I wish I could have seen Kurusu's face.

He hadn't yet seen the samurai's legendary incandescent blush when dealing with their lady and heir. But he'd heard enough from Kibito... and Takumi, with the bamboo wishes...

Well. He was kind of looking forward to watching those two. Just because he'd never had time for anything besides being friends, between learning about Kabane, secret experiments on monstrous heart tissue, and trying not to blow himself up-

Kurusu didn't just keep Ayame safe. He kept her stronger. Hopeful. Happy. And Ayame gave Kurusu a reason to fight when the whole world went crazy. The Koutetsujou needed all of that they could get.

Hope someone saves a little extra stew for Kurusu.

The samurai had eaten his bowl even more quickly than the children, before he'd headed back to the second car to help the Hunters wheel their bikes back to the security of their beehive. Not because they needed the muscle, Ikoma knew. Because even with good food taking the edge off hunger and grief, the Hunters weren't safe. They needed the confident presence of a bushi the Hayajiro trusted. So long as Kurusu was there, people would believe there was no problem... and so hopefully, there would be no problem.

I'd get the bikes out of reach, too, Ikoma had to admit. They're sturdy, but it'd be so easy for some idiot to tamper with them.

There were somewhere around two hundred Kongokaku on the Koutetsujou. Odds were there were at least five idiots. Possibly more, given the whole guns and torches mess.

Not that we haven't had a few reckless people of our own, Ikoma knew, watching Tsuta pat her bun back into shape, then fuss over the other three orphans with suspiciously shiny eyes. The young widow might have slapped Uryuu with intent to bruise, but he didn't think she'd sabotage the bikes. Even if she had lost her son. She was sensible. Practical. Grieving, yes, like all of them; but throwing herself into things that needed to be done on the Koutetsujou.

The kids on the bunk with Kajika, now... they were old enough to know the Hunters had done something horrible, and not old enough to understand why the adults on the Koutetsujou hadn't done something even more horrible right back. Even with Tsuta's help, Kajika couldn't watch them every minute. And speaking as someone who might have had his own little-idiot-kid moments many years ago... it didn't take more than a second to throw a rock into the right place. Or the wrong one.

At least food's a good distraction.

For everyone else, anyway. One of the most annoying things about being Kabaneri was he could smell what he couldn't eat. Whatever strange things had ended up in those pots, his mouth still watered at the thought.

You ate already, Ikoma reminded himself firmly, taking another resolute pull at his water bottle. You can get another treat tomorrow.

Suzuki's little contraption couldn't make that much ice yet; what there was had gone to keeping some of the more perishable meat and greens fresh, and cool drinks for the elderly and very young in the summer heat. Right now Hozumi was probably hovering over the steamsmith's shoulder to get her own chilled water. Good for her.

"So!" A brunette townswoman Ikoma had seen go bargaining with Kajika raised her ladle, purple cord tying back the sleeves of her short brown robe. "Are your young apprentices ready for seconds?"

The orphans grinned at apprentices. Ikoma tried not to quail in terror at the thought. If anyone ever figured out a way to bargain Kabane dead, Kajika would clear the whole of Hi-no-moto in a month. A year, tops.

"Are you sure, Aguri?" From across the way, Ayame looked up hopefully. "Rationing-"

"Won't do a bit of good with this, my lady." Aguri patted one handle of the pot. "I know steamsmiths live on black tea and jerky, and bushi love fish as much as cats. But this is innards, and they don't keep. Better for everyone to eat all they can stuff down."

The kids didn't need any more of an invitation, bouncing off the bunk to get their bowls filled again. Kibito wasn't too far behind, steadying little Ikko when the toddler did his best to hold his mug up straight.

Ikoma breathed out a sigh of relief, watching some of the shadows ease around people's eyes. Though Kajika wasn't the only one squinting at the reddish, lemony-smelling tea Aguri offered along with it. "No, you need to drink that," Ikoma put in, when Kajika hesitated. "I was talking to Suzuki about traveling on a Hayajiro. He says it's like being on a ship; you can come down with scurvy if you're not careful. So... he can't get limes, but this works just as well."

"What's scurvy?" One of the kids wondered.

"You get sick and lose all your teeth," Aguri said with evil relish. "And you don't even get to say Hozumi beat you up. Eww."

"Eww!"

I will never understand kids, Ikoma decided, as the youngsters swarmed Aguri for the tea. "Kajika..."

"I know, I know, but - pine needles? You first," Kajika muttered. Jumped, and looked abashed. "I mean-"

"You probably could." Taking her own second bowl, Ayame brightened. "It's tea."

Biba could drink tea, Ikoma realized, as Kajika brightened and Aguri frowned. Right, she doesn't know about Biba. Cover for that. "It is mostly hot water. So... maybe just a little?"

Looking doubtful, Aguri poured him half a cup. Ikoma breathed in the steam, and carefully sipped.

Sharp. Bright.

Not a bad sharpness. Like a lemon he'd gotten once, tasting his fingers after he'd squeezed it over a bowl of moat carp. Sour in a way that woke him up, with a hint of forests and boiler heat.

One sip. And wait.

Staring eyes. A lot of them.

"So far, okay," Ikoma shrugged, uncomfortable with the heavy silence. "I'll just drink it slowly." In case it's suddenly not okay.

That seemed to get the party back on its feet, even if Kibito did glance at him now and again. Ikoma tried another slow sip, and relaxed back against the car wall.

Not bad. Sharp, but - it's not water, and it's not blood. I could get used to it.

He didn't rush. Just because Biba had drunk tea - they didn't know how long he'd been doing that, if it was a specific tea, if he'd had to build up to it.

So many variables, the steamsmith thought. So much we don't know. It's been almost three weeks since I had anything different. Take it slow.

He finished the cup about the same time as everyone else was scraping their bowls. Sighed, though he tried to keep it low. If this works, I'm going to lay in a whole pile of teas for both of us.

And he'd definitely keep drinking the pine needles. If Suzuki said they needed this to keep off scurvy, and scurvy made people think worse - Hozumi said Kabaneri still had human minds. Better safe than sorry.

Slurping out her own bowl, Aguri grinned. Worked her ladle around inside the pot, and cast a look up and down the car. "Still a bit more, if anyone wants it!"

The kids flopped back against bunks and Kajika, groaning. Ayame dabbed at her lips, and shook her head. "I couldn't eat another bite," she said ruefully, glancing at Kibito. "Please, don't let me stop you."

"Haven't eaten this well since Shitori." The bushi held out his bowl. "Maybe half, eh? It is good."

Ikoma watched the rest of the car go for a bit more or join the kids in flaking out and enjoying some quiet time with nothing trying to kill them and the promise of plenty to eat tomorrow, too. Conversations rose and fell; Tsuta was poking at an old gardening tract with Ayame and discussing how she thought the writer had missed some of the most important steps in planting berries. One of the townsmen had broken out a tiny carved wooden shogi board, even if some of the pieces had been improvised with bits of pebble and a bent screw, and he and Keisuke were currently engaged in a battle of wits to the death, with a half-dozen kibitzers on either side.

It really does smell good, Ikoma thought wistfully, cradling his cup in his hand. And the tea stayed down...

Hozumi didn't know everything about Kabaneri, after all. Could Biba have hidden what he was around all his Hunters if he couldn't eat?

And we don't have the doctors' tools from the Kokujou. Ikoma was careful, very careful, not to grip the cup too hard. Every time someone from the Koutetsujou gives blood, that's another open wound. Another chance for the Kabane to infect them. If we could eat even sometimes, instead of drinking blood...

Decided, Ikoma stood up, and made his way over to the dregs of the pot. "If there's really enough... maybe half a spoonful?"

That spread a hush around him, and no few frank and furtive glances for any strangers who might have somehow snuck into the locomotive.

And we're going to have to watch that, too, Ikoma thought, trying not to let his temper boil at the thought. For as long as Hozumi and I have to hide what we are - all of us are going to be looking over our shoulders. It's not right!

Well. There were a lot of things not right with the world. One step at a time.

"Chew it slowly," Aguri advised, tipping just a little into his empty cup. "This is the bottom of the pot, and you never know when some idiot not used to butchering might leave in a bone bit."

Ikoma winced at the thought, and retreated back to his bunk for a tentative sniff. It still smelled good. If strange.

I wonder what they put in it?

Couldn't be anything too bad; the kids certainly weren't complaining. And Kajika hadn't wrinkled her nose, either, even a little bit. So she must think it was okay.

I haven't chewed anything in... ack. Way too long.

His jaw actually felt a little sore working through the stew, though the meat wasn't that tough. Ow.

If my jaw aches this much, Hozumi's going to have an awful time trying to eat. Maybe we should look for chewing resin at the next station, so she can get used to-

Twisting. Burning. A lurch inside, that made the whole world spin.

Hand clapped over his mouth, Ikoma bolted for the latrine.

Even through a closed door, the faint sounds of retching made Kajika want to cringe.

Putting down his bowl, Kibito winced. "That doesn't sound good."

"What do we do?" Tsuta hugged one of the youngsters close. "If there's something wrong with the stew - or people think there is..."

Panic could spread even faster than the Kabane. Kajika squared her shoulders, and headed for the door. "Just say it's been so long since we had them, we forgot Ikoma can't have mushrooms."

"You think they'll believe that?" Aguri muttered.

"Of course they will," Ayame said with bright determination. "Everyone knows steamsmiths don't eat refined foods." Pink shifted, more hesitant. "Do you think he's all right?"

"Ikoma's tough," Kajika replied. And hoped she was right. Closer to the door, Ikoma sounded even worse. "But... maybe someone could go get Hozumi?"

Just in case he's not fine... no, he will be. It's just an upset stomach. Idiot. Weeks since he's eaten anything; we should have started with clear soup! And I'm going to tell him that. Right now.

Braced with indignation, Kajika yanked open the door and went in.

Ikoma was clinging to one of the wall-grips meant so people didn't slide off on a turn, pale as a dead fish. He didn't look up.

Never letting him at scissors again, he needs his hair to grow out if he wants to hide what he's... thinking...

Kajika gulped, and backed up against the door, seeing that hot-steel glow of veins lacing Ikoma's skin. Oh no. It's like the mountains, with the Wazatori. He must have been really sick.

But she'd seen this then, and with Hozumi, and it wasn't anything to be scared of. She knew what to do. "You can't go out there like that," Kajika said firmly, crossing the small space between them. "You have a vial on you; you always do." So why hasn't he- oh, you're an idiot, he doesn't have a hand free, now does he?

And if Ikoma had been throwing up - well, she knew what that was like. Even when you were on solid ground, you felt like you might fall over with just a sneeze. Not to mention it left you dizzy and miserable and not really thinking straight for a minute.

Poor Ikoma. "Just hang on," Kajika patted his shirt, feeling the long shape of bamboo tucked out of sight. "I can get it-"

Pale fingers let go.

"Oof! You're heavy," Kajika said crossly, standing up under the weight of muscle and bone as her friend leaned into her shoulder. "Ikoma. Help me out. Just let me find your lunch..."

A long breath tickled her neck and hair. In, and out, and in.

And I thought it was just Hozumi who fell over after a fight. Kajika huffed. "Don't go to sleep on me-"

Another slow inhalation. Ikoma's head bumped her shoulder.

That didn't seem sleepy. Exactly. Kajika frowned, ducking her head to look her sick friend in the eye.

Red eyes.

Still brown, but glowing red, like deeply banked embers. Which... was almost as heart-stopping as the veins, but she'd seen that with Hozumi too. What worried her more was the dazed look on Ikoma's face. Like he wasn't quite awake.

Stay calm, Kajika told herself. He's there. He's not biting anyone, right? So that's Ikoma. "When you wake up all the way I am going to let you have it about trying that stew. You idiot. Now come on, let me find that vial..."

Familiar scent, young-things and plant-things and a bit of soap. Familiar voice, rising and falling in an unhurried rhythm.

Kajika. That's Kajika. Can't hurt her. Won't!

But not feeling right. Sick. Tired. Hungry. Where was food?

I'm not going to hurt Kajika!

Silly. Known-scent brought food. Sooner or later. Just needed to be reminded.

"Hozumi's here," Kibito's voice came through the door. "Everything all right in there?"

"I think so?" Kajika tried not to squeak, as Ikoma went from a gentle but determined bump at her shoulder to a determined lean. With odd, light pats; like an oversized cat wondering why bits of fish were still in a human's bowl and not dropped yet. "I could use another hand, he's heavy. And a little out of it." Or maybe a lot out of it. Given the soft grumpy noises along with the patting, like Ikko being too hungry to sleep and too sleepy to really eat. "Just you two, be careful..."

"Not like more than us are going to fit," Kibito chuckled, opening the door just enough to squeeze in. Halting, just for a second, as Ikoma's head jerked up, and Hozumi stifled a gasp.

She's white, Kajika thought, as Kibito made sure no one looked through the door past them. Why? They've been hungry before.

Kibito eased all the way in, moving slow and harmless. "Ah. We have a problem?"

Grim, Hozumi reached slowly down for coated bayonets.

"He'll be okay," Kajika said firmly; as if she could make it so just by telling the world that. "I just need to get - got it!"

She slipped out the red-banded bamboo tube, watching Ikoma's gaze switch between sleepy blinks at Kibito, a head-tilt at Hozumi, and definite perk at the sight of the familiar meal. "Here we are," Kajika breathed. "You know what this is, let me get the lid off..."

He blinked at her like a wary cat, but drank when she held it to his lips. Kept drinking, veins slowly vanishing, until the blood ran dry.

Slowly, red faded out of brown eyes. "...Kajika?"

Hozumi slumped against Kibito, trembling. "You're you?"

"I'm still a Kabaneri." Ikoma took a deep breath. "I'm just... really tired. What happened?"

"Oh, now that's going to be a story," Kibito said wryly, covering the tiny space in one stride. "No, don't try to walk, you scared us enough already." He crouched, and heaved.

"What are you- Door!" Ikoma sputtered, as Kibito hefted him over his shoulder like a bundle of rails. "Not going to fit-!"

"So duck," Kibito grinned. "Come on. Let's show everybody you just got the wrong mushroom."

Waiting for the explanation was a nightmare.

I didn't hurt anybody, Ikoma told himself firmly, sticking to water as he huddled in his bunk, waiting for enough people to go to bed so they could talk. They would have said if I had.

Not to mention there would have been panic, riots, and gunfire. But there was a fuzzy spot in his memory between the stew and blinking at Kajika, and what he did remember was unnerving.

Scents. Trust, but - being annoyed. Waiting for... food.

Maybe as unnerving as Sukari's sudden smile, the blond steamsmith listening intently as Lady Ayame and Kurusu got a few murmured details out of Kibito and Hozumi. Ikoma grimaced. He'd made himself sick, worried Kajika, and frightened Hozumi. What was there to smile about?

Ikoma tensed, seeing Kurusu go samurai-straight. They've made a decision. They didn't even ask me, they just-

Sukari murmured a few words.

Hozumi stared at him. Kurusu glared. Ayame... covered a giggle.

Kibito grinned. Slipped Ikoma a wink, and murmured something to Keisuke. Who blinked, startled, and shook his head.

But Ayame and Kurusu both looked relieved, so Ikoma set himself to wait.

Not that I really want to get up, the steamsmith admitted to himself, exhausted. Bad idea.

Every inch the lady of Aragane, Ayame stopped by his bunk, and touched his hand. "It's all right. Everything's fine now. Get some rest."

"I'm not fine," Ikoma insisted. Switched his stare to Kurusu; the samurai was practical enough to protect Ayame, no matter what had to be done. "I still don't know what happened, but if it happens again-!"

Kurusu's lips twitched. "Don't touch any stew with mushrooms."

Easy for him to say. The way Hozumi kept glancing at him, like she wasn't sure he was still himself...

Kurusu caught the direction of his glance, and scowled. "Lady Ayame is correct. You are fine now. And while this was not an opportune event - I think, once you hear their account, you will see we have cause to be much less worried than we had thought."

Ikoma watched the three of them head for the conference room, then aimed what he hoped was a determined glare at Kibito. From the way Kajika was still fussing with his sheets, nobody was impressed. "What did I do?"

"Asked her to feed you." Kibito grinned, though it had a serious edge. "Good thing you keep a tube on you. We'd better make that an everyday thing. One good bokken hit to your skull and we might need to use it."

"I what?" Ikoma turned toward Kajika, shaken. Because he had attacked Ayame, once, and this time Kurusu hadn't been around to smack him out of it.

"You just sniffed me." Kajika patted at his shoulder. "And bumped me. Like this. You didn't even grab me. You just didn't want me to leave."

That made no sense. "Hozumi thinks if Kabaneri get too hungry, they might..." Ikoma shook his head. "Why... if I was that hungry... I didn't hurt anyone?"

"No." Kajika poked him, right by the ribbon. "Like you ever would."

"Hozumi might not know it could be safe," Sukari said thoughtfully. "Didn't you say you have a hard time getting her to drink enough?"

Kajika nodded sharply. "She even left her lunch behind in Shitori!"

"That's what I was thinking of," the blond agreed. "If you're always hungry, it's hard to believe people aren't your enemies."

"And if your head's already muddled... huh," Kibito mused.

We need to take better care of her, Ikoma thought. Because he knew exactly what Sukari was talking about. The first year after the fall of his home station had been a hungry one. After that, when his skills as a steamsmith had been enough to keep food in his bowl every day - then an odd missed meal wasn't the end of the world.

Hozumi thought it was, in Yashiro Station.

Ikoma grimaced just thinking about it. The girl who could take down bushi one-handed and carve her way through an entire Kabane horde in minutes had gone from mulish stubbornness to outright panic, seeing the veins appear on her skin. She hadn't thought to carry blood, she hadn't even considered asking if he was - she'd just panicked, desperate not to turn into a Kabane.

Damn it. He was going to have to sit on her and make sure she drank regularly, because that mess had been absolutely ridiculous. He'd fought just as long and hard as she had, and he hadn't been anywhere near thirsty. That Hozumi had hit her limit so soon... one way or another, they had to convince her that shorting herself on blood was not just risky, but stupid.

"We need to get her to take care of herself," Ikoma muttered. "But how?"

"Well, I know what works on steamsmiths," Kajika declared. "You tell them they won't do their best work if they don't get something besides black tea and old jerky. Hozumi might not want to do it for herself, but she would for the Koutetsujou." She gave Ikoma a satisfied nod. "Like you will. We just need to be more careful. No more stew! You stick to tea. And then, in a few days, if you feel better, maybe we'll try a very weak clear soup."

Ikoma swallowed. "Do you think we should? That was... scary."

"This time we'll know what to do if you can't keep it down," Kibito said firmly. "We'll be prepared."

"Very prepared." Sukari had a small, wry smile. "I wonder if someone in the next station keeps geese?"

"Geese?" Ikoma asked warily.

Sukari nodded, arms crossed in amusement. "Ever had a persistent cat?"

Somehow, I know I'm going to regret this, Ikoma thought. "I fed some of the cats in Aragane..."

"They must not have thought you were their human, or you'd know," Sukari declared. "Your explosions probably made them think twice, cats are smarter than most people... a persistent cat cannot be ignored. Try to work? Try to read? You have a cat on your lap. Or on your hands. Or perched on your shoulder. Oh, whenever you pick it up and move it, the cat goes. And two seconds later you have a cat on your head."

Kajika was pink. Keisuke looked slightly dubious. Kibito...

The bushi wasn't even trying to hide his grin. "Damn. Looks like Kurusu was right."

"He'll never let us hear the end of it," Keisuke mused.

Kibito looked at him askance. "Oh, now, he wouldn't..."

"Say anything? Gloat? No," Keisuke agreed. "Those eyebrows say it all."

He might still be a bit muzzy-headed, but Ikoma was adding two and two and coming up with a number he didn't like at all. "Wait. Are you saying, when I was out of it...?"

Kajika had a faint smile on her face, as she rested a hand on his shoulder. "You were sleepy, grumpy, and very persistent."

Oh no.

"So, geese," Sukari explained. "I need to find you a feather."

...I am never going to live this down.

"He didn't hurt anyone." Hozumi shivered, arms wrapped around herself; as if she were somehow lost in the dark, not in the lamp-lit conference room so they could talk freely. "That wasn't just Ikoma sleepwalking. That was the Kabane, I felt it!"

Kurusu frowned, even as his lady hugged the young Kabaneri. "It's fortunate he didn't experiment while there were any of Kongokaku in the car. That could have gone badly."

Not that he thought Ikoma would have been reckless enough to try eating if he hadn't been surrounded by friendly faces. The steamsmith could be obsessed, but he wasn't stupid.

"You really think his Kabane knows us," Ayame said softly.

Kurusu let out a slow breath, considering his words carefully. "What I know," he stated, "is that from the first night it existed, other Kabane have tried to kill it. When we walked through Kongokaku, the hordes turned away from humans they were about to feed on to attack Ikoma. They recognized him as an enemy." He sought Hozumi's frightened gaze. "He said he found you by scent. If our scents are familiar, if Ikoma's Kabane is aware enough to realize we are those who provide food without the risk of battle..."

"You can't trust it!" Hozumi insisted. "We can't let it take over. Ever."

"I do not trust it," Kurusu stated. "But I do not fear it." He glanced at Lady Ayame. "As an eagle on the fist. It is dangerous to the unwary. Yet I do not think it is hostile."

"We'll all just have to remember to be careful, if something goes wrong." Ayame smiled then, impish. "It won't be hard to remind Ikoma not to be reckless. All we'll need to do... is wave a feather."

Help me. Help me...

Hatsune, skin gray, eyes glowing, staring at him as if the Kabane couldn't decide if he were prey or... something else.

Help. Me.

Dream, Ikoma told himself fiercely, fighting to move, to wake up, as glowing eyes drew nearer. As Hatsune's form wavered, living sister to Kabane twisting to Hozumi with lava-hot veins across her face. Just a dream...

Help. Me?

Gray fingers reached out, a blue butterfly clinging with prickles of black feet.

That's... new.

Help. Wavering from flesh to gray to veins, fingers pointed at him. Help?

Not a scream. A question.

Who are you? Ikoma tried to ask. What are you?

But he couldn't hear any words. Just a soft flutter of wings, as another blue butterfly clung to his hand.

It tickles.

The girl's butterfly was patient, waiting, wings barely moving. His was climbing over fingers and knuckles, exploring every dip of skin, as if it were bent on mapping every hair of his hand. And tugging.

How a butterfly could tug him closer to a maybe-Kabane made no sense. But it was a dream.

Fingers. Almost close enough to touch. The girl's butterfly... took flight, flicking wings like snapped fingers.

His own took off, swooping in turning circles around hers. Hovering, then circling around her flightpath again, as if inviting company.

Burning eyes glanced at him, and the butterflies. Help?

Ikoma would have sworn, if he could. I'm trying, I'm trying, why can't I say anything-

Red, pouring across his vision in a flurry of wings from the east. The blue butterflies fled, fighting headwinds back to them, feet prickling as his own found refuge above his heart-

Help me!

"Kabane!"

The hilt of Kurusu's sword hit the support for the bunk above him, jarring down his arm to wake him up before his hair could get caught. He blinked, sweeping the night-dark car for any trace of that deadly glow. Nothing, nothing-

A familiar shadow in the shadows; Kajika, trying to soothe their fevered Kabaneri back to sleep. "It's okay, Ikoma, you're having a nightmare..."

Hozumi's guns clicked; a hint of light gleamed off her headgear. "No. He's not." She craned her head toward the window-slits. "They're out there. Not close, but... I can hear them."

Kurusu located a candle-lantern by touch; decided to avoid the light, for now. "Can they hear you?"

Hozumi's eyes widened; then creased in a frown. "I don't know. But the Koutetsujou's not quiet."

Waking up beside him, Kibito rubbed bleary eyes and snorted. "Isn't that the truth. I'll rouse the men. You tell Yukina's second he'd better get ready to speed up."

Kurusu nodded, and hurried forward. Curtains, steps...

Nidai glanced back at him in surprise, glasses flashing against the steamsmith's dark hair. "We need to stop?"

"No," Kurusu said bluntly, heading for the periscope. "Hozumi says there's a horde."

"Out here?" Nidai sounded rightfully incredulous, even as he scanned gauges and tapped the pressure dial for luck. "There's no station, no fallen towns..."

No prey, Kurusu finished that thought silently, swinging the scope around away from the arc of the Koutetsujou's lamps down the track, into the empty night.

...Not empty.

The samurai stared at yellow-red glows in the night, and forced himself to estimate numbers. Besides just a lot.

It's... not that many, Kurusu concluded, surprised. A few hundred. No more.

More than enough to overwhelm a Hayajiro, if they'd been caught off-guard, especially if the Kabane used the tactic they'd met in the mountains: leap from high ground, above the arc of most rifle fire, and surge through a door or beat in the very walls with inhuman fists. Still enough of a swarm to kill the Koutetsujou if they were forced to stop and luck went horribly against them. But compared to the forces of Kabane they'd met recently, the horde was small.

Why?

Reasons later. "Keep an eye on the tracks," Kurusu ordered. "Prepare to increase speed-"

"We can't!" Nidai shoved back hair with frustrated fingers. "There's a curve just ahead. Any faster than this, and - you'll never wake everyone up in time!"

We can't risk derailing. "Then get someone on the cannon," Kurusu ordered, watching the flow of lava-light as the horde angled their direction. "This will be close."

It's a horde, not a Fused Colony. They can't run faster than humans.

...Well. Not much.

But some of them were closer to the tracks than others, and they'd be even closer as the Koutetsujou powered around the curve-

Kurusu blinked, cursing the late hour. "Why do the tracks curve?"

"There's a granite hill on the left-" Nidai blanched.

High ground. Kurusu bit back a curse, grabbed for a speaking tube instead. "Ridgeline left! Be ready to repel."

Back to the scope, firing would go so much better if they knew exactly which angles the Kabane would jump from-

Lights flashed off twisted metal.

Kurusu blinked, and swung the scope around to focus on a long, torn rectangle of steel smashed against the glittery gray of blast-cut granite. It can't be...

"Kurusu!" Lady Ayame's voice; from that rustle, still donning her outer jacket. "Kabane? From where?"

"A derailed car," the samurai declared.

"What?"

Not looking, he stepped away from the scope, so Lady Ayame could see tattered steel while Miyako tugged sleep-wrinkled cloth into proper lines. "Nidai. We need to watch for more wreckage. Either a Hayajiro shed a car as a last resort, or..."

Or the Fusojou wasn't the first Hayajiro Kabane tried to steer.

"Is there enough room to get past?" Ayame stepped back, letting another steamsmith at the scope; Sukari; Kurusu noted with relief. "It looks so close."

"It's close," Sukari agreed. "I think we can make it." He paused. "If they don't push the damn wreck into the tracks." He glanced at Kurusu. "We're too close for the cannon."

"Then use your best judgment on speed, Nidai," Ayame decreed.

"Right," the apprentice engineer breathed. "Here we go..."

Light gleamed again on torn and rusted steel. Barely rusted, Kurusu noted, as the Koutetsujou entered the curve. The car couldn't have been lost long. A year, perhaps. Maybe less.

"Kurusu." Ayame had her hands folded; steady, if not exactly calm. "In the future we need to review the maps more carefully."

"Yes, my lady."

"It might be wise to ask Hunter Uryuu to speak in our planning sessions." Ayame's voice barely trembled, as the force of the train's turn shoved at them all. "And station one of his men with our night watch, so we can ask questions on... the likelihood of certain Kabane behavior."

"That may be more difficult," Kurusu allowed, listening to a scatter of shots from above. Aiming left, both up and down. Measured shots; no flurry of panic that would demand he leave Ayame's side. "Uryuu does not yet trust his men's safety with all those on the train. We can offer our own escort, but he may be difficult to convince..."

Twisted steel seemed to rush at them, as Nidai kept his gaze on critical dials, leaving Sukari to call out their estimated clearance in a low, even voice.

It's going to be close.

Ayame started, as if a thought had suddenly struck her. "Ikoma's not-?"

"Kajika has him in hand," Kurusu reassured her. I hope. The steamsmith could be reckless when others' safety was at stake. And being sick didn't help anyone's judgment.

Damn Biba. If only we knew what Kabaneri medicine was!

"Three feet!" Sukari gripped the scope, white-knuckled. "If our passage doesn't shift it-!"

It shouldn't, from what effects Kurusu had seen of train-draft on passing cars... but then, he'd guess the steamsmith was worried less about the car than random pieces blown about into the undercarriage. Sukari had seen enough of the Koutetsujou's linkage bar in motion to stop any man's heart.

Lights flashed past steel, and the locomotive was through the curve.

Sukari kept the scope moving as Nidai inched their speed up, keeping eyes on the high ground. Nidai took one hand off the controls just long enough to wipe sweat away from his glasses.

More shots. Still measured; tapering off from the front, though the rear cars seemed to be firing at almost the same rate as the Koutetsujou eeled back onto straight tracks-

No, Kurusu realized. They're slowing too.

Another two volleys. Silence.

Ayame took a long, shuddering breath. Straightened her shoulders, and stepped over to the speaking tubes. "All cars, report in."

Kurusu listened to the tinny all-clears coming in, from the locomotive back. First car through the fifth...

"Car six." Uryuu's voice, not blurred with sleep at all. "All clear."

Ayame's smile rang through her voice. "Well done, everyone. We will soon slow to normal cruising speed. Return to your watches. Or your bunks, if we interrupted your night. According to the map, the rails should be clear until late morning." Her tone lightened. "And then we just might get to try everyone's plans to fish!"

Elder Dogen leaned back against the wall of the car above his bunk, not at all ready to close his eyes.

Return to your watches? Go back to bed?

Naokata wasn't the only one of his bushi who looked absolutely daunted, as those few of Aragane Station in view determinedly pulled sheets or stray clothing over their heads against any flickers of light, and quickly dropped back off to sleep.

As if the gunfire had been nothing. As if another horde of Kabane - was nothing to worry about, once the cars had been declared cleared.

"How can they be this calm, Elder?" Naokata said under his breath. "If anyone fought the Kabane, even if the blood only blew on the wind..."

Someone might be infected, Dogen finished silently. It was a terror he'd known himself, in the years before Kongokaku had perfected its inspections. There were reasons the city had quarantined everyone, wounds or not. Those of Aragane should know that better than anyone!

Yet they were asleep. As if they were utterly certain none of their defenders would carry the virus into the Hayajiro.

Ayame believes the Kabaneri can sense the Kabane.

If that were so... if those of the Koutetsujou truly knew who was and was not at risk...

They've destroyed that fear, Dogen realized. But at what cost?

He was no expert on the Kabane, but he knew enough. If Mumei claimed they had the bodies of Kabane, likely they had the virus as well. One slip, one bite, and the Kabaneri themselves could start an outbreak.

It's a demon's bargain. Ayame has to know that.

Yet he could see no way to extricate his niece from her own honor. Ikoma had been a steamsmith of Aragane; Mumei, from what he'd learned, had cleared the path to the Koutetsujou so Aragane's survivors could escape. Were they human, Ayame would owe them her protection. A noble's duties demanded no less.

But they are not.

"Elder?" Naokata frowned.

There is nothing I can do now, Dogen told himself. Get to a living station, and then... then we may have options. "Those of Koutetsujou are likely more exhausted than we are," the elder said dryly. "This will be their nineteenth day on the rails. I can't remember the last time I heard of passengers on a Hayajiro that long." He rolled a shoulder at a time, deliberately working out battle-tension. "And if they were going to have sleepless nights, they'd save them for a few days. If the map is right, one of the possible routes might take us past Keishi."

That chilled his bushi, and no few of his listening people. "The Lost City?" Doshun dared. "But... that's..."

"Quite possibly one of the safest routes we could take," Dogen admitted, grudging the truth of it. "It's been twenty years since the Kabane swallowed it. That long with no prey? They'll have moved on."

Or slept. We don't know how long they can sleep.

But bringing that up would only frighten his people further. "We may as well trust that my niece's men know what they're doing," Dogen stated. "Get some rest. Even on the shortest route, we have long days ahead of us."

Determined, he leaned back into a threadbare pillow, and closed his eyes.

It was a very long time before he slept.

Kajika breathed in morning-cool river air, gripping the railing with dozens of others as the Koutetsujou coasted to a stop. A deep river under them, the strong steel of the bridge rising around them - as long as they kept a watch on both directions, they should be safe.

Like the moat at Aragane. Kajika looked up, as the crane swung over the side with someone's first attempt at a net. Kabane can't swim...

Oh. And an eep that for once didn't have to do with how Hozumi had silently appeared at her elbow. "Can you swim?"

"Yes." Hozumi tilted her head, quizzical. "Why?"

"I guess I was wondering why Kabane can't," Kajika confessed. "Before Kongokaku, Ikoma fell into the water..." And she couldn't say more about that, not when she couldn't see every listening ear.

"Kabane are heavy. And clumsy." The Kabaneri girl frowned. "Ikoma might know. If we can get his fever down."

Ikoma might know more than the Hunters about Kabane? That was kind of scary.

Though the fever was scarier. Oh, Ikoma wasn't out of his head, wasn't raving; wasn't even absent, the way he'd been before a good drink of blood had woken him back up. He was just... sick. Like a bad cold, without the sniffles.

Or like someone who got bad food and couldn't stop throwing up for a whole day, Kajika told herself firmly, pushing away from the rail to head back into the locomotive. Ice water's helping. Blood helps. Maybe something else will. "I have an idea for that. If you could help me try it?"

That won her Hozumi's bounce, eager as gearing up for a fight. "What are we going to do?"

"Something a little bit risky," Kajika admitted, stepping into their almost-empty sleeping quarters; outside of a skeleton engine crew, anyone who could get out in the sun, was. "But not as risky as that idiot and stew!"

"I still don't know why that happened." Hozumi frowned at Ikoma, curled up in his bunk with one of the snoring kids; shivering, now and again. "If food doesn't work, why didn't he just throw up?"

"Just throwing up can make you this sick, if you can't get enough salt and water back in." Kajika frowned. "Some of the old grannies told me about it, back in Aragane. Stories about long before the stations were built, when Suzuki's people first came over the sea; sometimes people would catch something from bad water, and they could throw up so much they'd die."

Hozumi paled. "Did the stories say how to fix it?"

"Salt and sweet water," Kajika nodded, bringing out the little pot of honey she'd taken from the stores to mix a spoonful in a cup of water, with a few careful dashes of salt. "The problem is, I don't want to make Ikoma any worse. So... would you try just a little of it?" She hesitated. "It might make you sick, just like the stew did to Ikoma."

"But you don't think so." Hozumi peered at the pale gold liquid, curious. "Why?"

"Lady Ayame said Biba had tea with her. If he could have honey and tea, then maybe the two of you can, too. Ikoma drank Suzuki's tea, and nothing happened; not until he tried stew." Kajika tried not to hold her breath, as Hozumi took the cup. "Just take a little sip. And wait."

The Kabaneri girl nodded, fierce as facing down a horde. Raised the cup to her lips, and took one careful swallow.

Brown eyes widened.

Oh no - oh no, I made them both sick, what are we going to do-?

"...You know how to make the medicine?"

Kajika leaned against an empty bunk, startled by the hope in Hozumi's voice. "It's just honey-water-"

"No! This is the medicine!" Hozumi bounded up onto Ikoma's bunk, careful not to spill a drop as she lifted little Ikko out of the way. "Ikoma! Wake up. You need to have this. Now!"

It was like color sweeping back into the world.

Ikoma swallowed down another mouthful of flower-dusted sweet rust-water, and blinked at all the eyes around him. Kajika, the kids, Lady Ayame, Kurusu and half a dozen other bushi, Hozumi looking relieved as he'd ever seen her - even Suzuki and Sukari, crowding in as if they were checking over a patched pressure cylinder.

And hanging in the back, Uryuu. Looking like someone'd hit him hard with a board.

"Is everyone okay?" Ikoma wondered. "What is this, anyway?" Besides something that wasn't trying to escape his stomach the hard way. Which was an utter relief.

"It's... honey-water." Kajika sounded dazed. "With a little salt. That's all."

She had to be joking. Only Kajika wouldn't play a prank on him; not like this. "It doesn't taste like honey."

"It's medicine." Hozumi crossed her arms, as if they were all being ridiculous. "That's what it always tastes like. Flower petals. Water. A little mucky."

"Rusty," Ikoma clarified, peering at a few drops left to see if he could spot any of the orange oxides he tasted. "Like rainwater from an old cistern pipe. It is sweet, but... this is honey?"

"I saw her mix it," Hozumi nodded. "Maybe it's like blood?"

Oh. Oh. He'd never wanted to bring that up, ever, but... it made sense. Damn. He could have asked her about the medicine forever, and they wouldn't have known how to find it right under their nose-

Kurusu's gaze was sharp as his blade. "How is it like blood?"

"Blood... doesn't taste the same," Ikoma said reluctantly. "You know how it's supposed to be. Bitter. Like rust, only brighter."

"You would know what rust tastes like." Kajika seemed to finally relax a little, a bittersweet smile on her face. "You and Takumi, honestly..."

Kurusu said nothing. Only arched that sharp brow.

"It's different since that night," Ikoma admitted. "Warm. Even when it's not warm. Like... I don't know, spiced barley broth? The kind someone cooked a bone in for days." The kind that made his mouth water even now, thinking of that filling richness. He hunched on his bunk, reluctant to meet any eyes. "I tried not to think about it. Even water tasted weird. I thought it was the shock, but then it didn't stop. I - got used to it."

Ayame took a half-step forward. "Hozumi thinks this is the medicine for Kabaneri."

"It is," Hozumi insisted. "I can feel it. It's quiet in my head."

"It's helping." Ikoma tried not to shiver. "I didn't realize how hard it was getting to think. Blood made it go away for a while, but... everything's back. Clear." Now he was going to look up, no matter what it took. "I almost feel normal."

Like a gray shadow, Uryuu whirled and headed for the hatch stairs.

Who bit him? Ikoma wanted to ask. But that would have been a very bad joke. "Is everyone okay?" Because with his head so oddly clear, all the exhaustion panic had staved off was crashing in. "I know I should be up, there's so much to do-"

"Sleep." Kajika pushed him back down against the bunk. "Hozumi told us if this was the right medicine, you'd need it."

"Okay..."

Sleep. Without the slow-gnawing ache in his head, the constant gray despair creeping in on his soul. Without that ache in his arm he'd almost gotten used to, flesh and bone twinging as they tried to heal. Without the fear that those he cared about would be torn away by the Kabane. Just... sleep.

Cotton. Soft. Must be the pillow...

Uryuu gripped the railing around the top of the locomotive's prow, and wished he could tear it to pieces with his bare hands.

Why, Biba? Maybe I'm no noble. Maybe I'm just a stupid station brat too stubborn to die. But I don't get it. Why? We were loyal. Willing to die for you. Willing to live for you, and kami know that was harder. So... why?

Because if all the medicine did was keep the Kabane at bay - he'd heard nobles and their weird ideas about keeping hunting hawks and hounds a little hungry so they'd be sharp. If the Kabaneri needed that heart inside awake to sense the Kabane... well, then just enough rations of anything that swatted it down would make sense. Nasty sense, but sense. But if the Kabaneri needed their medicine to think-!

And Biba knew it. We all saw what he was like without enough sweet tea. He'd get tired. Sarcastic. Need time to think things through. Nobody wanted that. We diced with death every time we went out with the Kabane. Anybody sleepy, injured - heck, even hay fever, we kept 'em off the front lines until they could think again. If the Kabaneri couldn't...

They'd lost Hunters when Kabaneri slipped. And that... that'd meant the Kabaneri got shot, put down like screaming animals, when what they should have done was grabbed the poor girls and drowned them in honey-water-

Gripping the railing, Uryuu banged his head against cold steel. Just once.

There. If he was crying, it was just the pain.

The river was quiet, at least. Soothing, if you ignored the splash of makeshift nets and the laughter of would-be fishermen around the crane. Farther down the train were other splashes, people hauling up small kegs of water to boil and drink. Like Hunters would, when they stopped on a bridge; seizing fresh water and the chance for sunlight without fear.

That was probably what was driving him so crazy. Being on the Koutetsujou... they weren't Hunters. But a lot of the things they did were the same. If he didn't think, he might forget that there were any enemies on this Hayajiro.

What the hell do I tell my men?

Because the seven survivors with him might be a lot of things but they were not stupid. They'd already known Mumei thought Biba was Kabaneri. They knew how much honey he'd drunk. They knew Ikoma was sick. And now they'd hear that he was better; kami, so much better, even in the bad light in the locomotive there'd actually been a little color in ghostly cheeks.

Hunters weren't stupid. They'd figure it out.

What the hell do I do?

Ayame let Kurusu go before her up onto the prow. Uryuu had ostentatiously swaggered through the length of the Koutetsujou without a man to guard his back, keeping trouble at bay by the sheer nerve of acting as if all the bushi swords on the Koutetsujou wouldn't keep him from where he wanted to go.

She approved; it meant he could quietly leave his combat-worthy Hunters to guard those still in shock along with their bikes. But even if Uryuu had ordered them to stay, they had to be getting worried by now.

If he's still up here, he's upset, Ayame knew. Why? He almost seems to like Hozumi, as much as he likes any of us. He should be glad she'll be safe. And Ikoma... well, he might not like Ikoma, but he's practical. Another Kabaneri in fighting condition will make his men safer. So what's wrong?

Uryuu glanced back at them both, then gripped the rail tighter.

Very upset, Ayame concluded, as Kurusu gauged the threat level, then fell in behind her. I'll have to tread carefully. "Ikoma's asleep. Mumei says that's normal when a wounded Kabaneri gets medicine. Something about it feeding the mind, so the body can finally relax?"

Half-gloved hands tightened; deliberately eased off a hair. "...Wouldn't know."

"It's very odd to watch," Ayame mused. "If you look at his arm... well, they don't look much like fingers now, but Mumei's sure they'll grow."

"Good," came the gritted reply. "Way he keeps throwing himself into trouble, he needs two hands."

Kurusu frowned. "Is there something amiss that threatens the Koutetsujou?"

"...No."

Ayame considered closing the distance between them, then dismissed the idea. They'd been enemies mere days before. Honest enemies, Uryuu had never hidden his ruthless streak, but enemies. He wouldn't want to take kindness.

So I won't be kind. "You and your men are a part of the Koutetsujou's fighting forces," Ayame stated. "As the holder of the master key, I must be aware of anything that threatens our combat readiness. I know there is something wrong. Do you want to tell me, or do I ask Mumei to bring the children down to your car to see the bees?"

That drew a frozen blink. And a look filled with more dread than a bushi facing a whole horde of Kabane. "Are you crazy? The bees are cranky enough just going all day. At least right now they can get some water... don't you dare send kids in to bang on the hive. We need it."

He flinched even as he said it. Ayame weighed that, considering her next move. "Yes, we do," she agreed. "Does that bother you? You told us information about the Kabaneri was held close by the scientists. You couldn't have known."

"I should have."

This isn't good, Ayame thought. But... that's guilt. The guilt of a leader, who's realized he was lacking. There's an opening here. If I tread carefully. "What do you need?"

Hazel glanced at her, and away again. "Biba... Biba saved most of us. Some of us out of starving to death near the tracks. A lot of us right out of the wrecks of stations. Tomio - I don't even know what his name was. He's one of the few guys we pulled out of what was left of Tomio Station, after it was swallowed. Won't answer to anything else, not anymore. Oh, Biba always said he only saved us 'cause we fought to live - but damn it, he saved us."

"You owed him your loyalty," Ayame said softly.

"It wasn't just that!" A jerky breath; the Hunter's collar fluttered in the river breeze. "He led us. Took the same risks as anyone. Got his hands dirty like everyone. Dragged up town brats and yanked down bushi noses and made sure we all. Knew. Everything, about the guns and the bikes and even the little repairs on the Hayajiro. Just in case. Because we were all Hunters together, and if something goes wrong with the Kabane you don't have time to go hunt down a steamsmith. I learned how to read because of him."

No wonder Uryuu seemed rough around the edges. He was. But if he'd come far enough to lead, then he was a stronger man than even he knew. "It's hard to change the ways you were taught," Ayame allowed. "My own uncle doesn't understand what we've done here on the Koutetsujou." She bent her head, letting some of her pain show. "My people have kept his alive, and all he can see is that they're tainted."

"Stings, huh?" A wry, bitter smile. "But you... you're just hurting. This is going to kill my men."

Beside her, Kurusu stiffened. "You need a suicide watch?"

Ayame stifled a gasp, chilled. "But - we've fought so hard against the Kabane! Why would anyone want to die when we can still fight?"

"Because he lied to us." Uryuu hissed it, eyes damp. "He swore he was taking care of us, swore we were doing it all right, swore the Kabaneri fighting with us had everything his scientists could do to help!"

Ayame flinched, the depths of that treachery starting to become clear. "If the Kabaneri need medicine to think..."

"You don't throw muddle-headed fighters at the Kabane!" Uryuu gritted out. "It's a death warrant; for them, and everybody else around! And if he was willing to do that, to just use them up like sword-wiping rags, and throw them away-!"

"Then you were all disposable," Kurusu finished, steel-eyed. "Hunters. Scientists. Kabaneri. None of you were truly his. Only... convenient tools to achieve his revenge." He paused. "As the Koutetsujou was, to gain entry to Kongokaku."

Uryuu touched his cheekguards, as if he wanted to bury his face in his hands. "This is going to kill my men."

It might. It very well might. The shame, the dishonor, the loss of all the good they thought they'd done in the world... The Hunters faced the Kabane. They knew how to suicide.

I can't let this happen. We need them! And... they're hard, but they're not evil. I won't let Biba kill them now! "You weren't the only ones he betrayed."

"Yeah." Hazel blinked at her, exhausted as if he'd fought the night through. "That's the point."

"So you've become the monsters all should fear." Kurusu's tone was cool. Unhurried. "I dealt with a man like that. I shot him off the Koutetsujou myself." The samurai stared the Hunter down. "And then Ikoma walked through the Kabane and saved us all."

Uryuu stared back, unwilling to yield. "The hell are you saying? He was one of yours, of course he would-"

"He was a monster," Kurusu cut him off. "A Kabane. That's all we knew. That's all he knew. We saw the heart. I shot him off the Hayajiro to protect us all. And despite that he followed us. All the way to the drawbridge. When it jammed... he dragged himself through the horde, and threw the manual switch. Not because he loved Aragane. Because he hated the Kabane, and hated us, and he wanted us to live knowing a monster had saved us all."

Ayame swallowed dryly, even as Uryuu started. If Ikoma had felt like that - if he still felt as betrayed as the Hunters did-

"He's had time to heal," Kurusu went on, more quietly. "And we... discovered Mumei was correct. Kabaneri are not monsters. Dangerous, and in need of care as fine as any blade. But not monsters." He eyed the Hunter. "Yet I will never forget that night. If honor and loyalty are not enough to keep your men clinging to this life - then tell them to live for spite."

Uryuu twitched. Straightened, as if standing between them and his wounded men.

He's thinking of them, not his own hurts. Good! Ayame nodded fiercely. "You've already begun. Your men are alive. You have allies. You slay the Kabane. You are the Hunters you wished to be. If Biba betrayed you, then defeat him! Make the dream real."

"Allies?" Uryuu gave her a narrow look. "You forget, Princess. You're just taking us to the next station."

"I forget nothing." Ayame stood straight as the steel of the bridge about them. "I offered you my protection so long as you are aboard the Koutetsujou." She paused, then drove the words home. "I will not withdraw it. On the Koutetsujou, in Aragane - station or Hayajiro, we will treat your men as our own. They've earned it. You all have."

For a moment she thought she'd offered too much. Uryuu was stiff and pale, not daring to believe...

A splash caught their attention, one of the crane operators swearing as three men tried to manhandle a catfish almost as tall as they were out of the net.

"Oi!" Uryuu cupped his fingers around his mouth so they'd hear. "Put some gloves on, you morons! The fins have spines!"

The yell he got back made Ayame blush, even as Kurusu scowled fierce enough to set soaked ropes on fire, fish and all. But their fishermen were handling the net more carefully.

Uryuu dropped his hands, shoulders a little less tense. "I need to talk to my men." He looked them both up and down, as if he wasn't sure what to say next, either. "...We'll think about it."

Kibito leaned against the conference room wall, watching Kurusu and their lady confer and scribble on scraps of paper. "That looks like a long list."

"It's just a start," Ayame admitted, putting her brush down. "We spoke to Uryuu, and I mentioned that the Hunters would have our protection in Aragane. And then I started thinking about that. Reopening the station... we'll need so much."

"We will," Kibito agreed. He'd thought about it, a little, after hearing Ayame proclaim that as her Tanabata wish. But only a little. Surviving here and now took almost everything they had. Focus too much on the future, and the weight of everything they didn't have might crush them. "I think the hardest part might be finding enough people."

Kurusu gave him a mild scowl; the kind most saw as bushi ferocity.

Heh. That's just, "so what else is the world throwing at us this time?" Kibito knew. "Well, think about it. Food, weapons, gunpowder, steel and concrete to repair breaches in the walls - we'll need all of those. They won't be easy to get, but with enough time and funds, we might be able to do it. But people? Men and women willing to risk their necks to fight the Kabane, to drive them out of a swallowed station and take it back... and willing to live with Kabaneri?"

Because sooner or later that secret would get out. Hopefully later. But there were over three hundred of Aragane and Yashiro on this Hayajiro who knew damn well what Ikoma and Hozumi were. Even if a slip was more likely to be pride than fear - somebody would slip. Eventually.

"I know," Ayame nodded. "That's why I want the Hunters. If they'll join us."

Urk. "That won't be easy," Kibito warned. Though damned if it didn't make sense. "I know they're trained, and they don't mind Kabaneri..."

"They're more than trained. They're experienced," Ayame said firmly. "They know they can fight the Kabane and live. They know how to survive between stations. They know how to teach other people to do the same. They're a treasure. If all Biba could think to do was throw them away - well, I won't!"

"No one's going to forgive them soon," Kurusu stated. "They know it. We know it. But they've shown they are acting in good faith... and word about the honey is spreading." A twitch of a smile. "Hozumi bouncing around with the children is the best evidence in the Hunters' favor."

It was definitely a good start, Kibito had to admit. "They were working to take our world back, with just a Hayajiro and Biba's name to lean on," he observed. "Think they could do more with a live station to back them?"

"So much more," Ayame agreed softly. "With a station to come back to, they could let their wounded heal between battles. They could train new Hunters safely, before their first fight. They could rearm, have their weapons maintained, restock on ammunition. They could work with us to develop new weapons. Better weapons! And they wouldn't be alone, because when I reopen Aragane, we won't stay behind the walls. We'll go out and hunt the Kabane down! Again and again, as long as it takes. If we can do that, if we can keep doing that... we won't just reopen Aragane. We'll reopen Yashiro, and Hayatani, and even Tomio Station! Biba lied; we'll make it the truth! We'll take our whole world back."

Kurusu cast Kibito a glance he could read like a book: So who sounds like Ikoma now?

Heh. Well, they needed that dream, but they also needed to focus on the next moment. "It'll be hard to keep the Hunters with us that long," Kibito reflected. "They're used to living in a Hayajiro. Made sense, for them; it may be harder to get supplies, but it was a lot easier to hide the Kabaneri when they were just visiting stations."

"They wish they didn't need the stations," Ayame mused. "I wish we didn't, either. But even if we had enough food and supplies, there's just not enough room-"

She stopped, eyes wide. Set the list carefully down, and rushed out the door.

Kibito followed hard on Kurusu's heels. He didn't think there was an emergency, their lady was responsible about warning them if she saw trouble they didn't, but if not, why the hurry?

"Yukina!" Ayame stopped just at the top of the stairs, dodging a piece of shiny steel some enterprising steamsmith had angled to beam sunlight down into the locomotive's darker nooks and crannies. "Yukina, how many cars could the Koutetsujou add?"

Going over a logbook with Nidai, their conductor looked up, bemused. "How many...?" The redhead cast a glance at her second-watch apprentice. "Based on the wyes we've seen... two?"

"Maybe a third, if we could find one of the half-length cars the nobles used to use years ago," the dark-haired steamsmith agreed. "More than that and turning in an emergency would be," he coughed into a fist, "difficult."

Kibito watched Kurusu's eye twitch, and tried not to smirk at that understatement. Yes, by now they all had a fairly good idea of how much space there was to turn at a wye, and what would and wouldn't make the Koutetsujou derail if they had to push things to the limit. Difficult. Indeed.

"Two cars," Ayame mused, one hand near her lips as if she wanted to shield unseemly excitement. "Even one would be cheaper than trying to rebuild part of Aragane. Yes?"

"Unless we come up with incredible salvage, or someone at the next station has cargo they have to have moved, we won't be able to afford a new car." Yukina put a fist on her hip. "Lady Ayame-"

"We do have a cargo." Violet eyes were incredibly fierce. "It may not be a great deal, not yet. But we have salvage, and raw skins, and blueprints. And a fresh beehive; anyone cropping the fields inside a station will be glad to see that! We should be able to trade those for enough supplies for our people. And if we can deliver my uncle's people and whoever wants to leave the Hayajiro to the safety of the next station, then..."

Ayame trailed off, as every eye in earshot turned toward her, wide with shock.

Kurusu broke the stunned silence. "Whoever wants to leave?"

Their lady took a long, deep breath. "I have an idea."

"The stations have two difficulties." Ayame swept her hand over a map of Hi-no-moto, marked with stations they knew were alive or dead. "They need to trade with each other to survive, and they need to be able to hold off the Kabane hordes."

Gathered around the conference room table, Aragane's Elders and Mura from Yashiro nodded. "That is what the Hayajiro are for," graying Shimizu pointed out gravely. "To bring cargo and passengers between stations, and... if our lady will permit the honesty, to draw the hordes away from the walls by their passage."

"Not that it helps when Kabane smash Hayajiro through the walls," bare-chested Fuyuki growled.

"We can help with both of those," Ayame stated. "If we spread the design of jet bullets to every station we visit, each station lord and every Hayajiro crew can start killing the Kabane beyond the walls. Killing them, not just driving them off. The Kabane are many, but they are not infinite. If every station can kill the Kabane that approach their walls, the walls will hold. If every Hayajiro can kill the Kabane that attack it, they will survive. Travel will become easier. Trade will be easier. If we make that happen - then we will be able to gain the resources and supplies to reopen Aragane."

"Lady Ayame." Kurusu, silent and steady behind her. "The stations hold many who are brave. But as many or more who are frightened, to the point of abandoning all honor. Simply trading the design for jet bullets will not be enough."

"No, it won't be," Ayame agreed. "Not without an example." This. This was the moment that might break everything. "What if the folk of the Koutetsujou became that example? What if we - all of us who are willing to live beyond walls - keep traveling?"

"Lady Ayame?" Shimizu started, as the other Elders muttered. "Those of Kongokaku would never agree to this."

Which, as Ayame was sure everyone could guess, was exactly why none of them were here. "Elder Dogen Makino has expressed to me his doubts of some of our fighters," Ayame said neutrally. "He wishes to remove his folk from the Koutetsujou at the next station that will harbor them. Given his rank in the shogun's court, it is likely any station lord would agree to take them in. I intend that we honor his request." She gifted them all with a smile. "We could use the room!"

That drew a few chuckles, even as the men looked thoughtfully at each other. "Food will still be a problem." Mura frowned, and crossed his arms, obviously remembering three horrible days in Yashiro Station, hoping beyond hope that a Hayajiro would arrive to rescue them in time. "What we've gathered so far helps, but... land foraging is risky. And odds are, bridges won't always be safe."

"We need more of the bikes," Kurusu stated. "And their fuel. If we can send out enough outriders to screen hunting and foraging parties, the Kabane will be less of a threat." The samurai gave them all a milder look. "That would also give us more options for evacuations and rail repairs, if they are needed. A cautious rider can travel between stations on a bike alone."

Mura nodded, and glanced at his fellow Elders.

Bikes and fuel, Ayame wrote down, and waited.

"There are many trades that can't be done on a Hayajiro, Lady Ayame," Shimizu observed. "Dyeing cloth. Forging anything larger than the locomotive's furnaces allow." He waved a hand at his nose, as if wafting away a horrible stink. "I won't even begin to mention leatherwork."

"Hides won't do us much good if we can't get them to a station to work. Though a little more room might let us weave," Fuyuki mused. "It'd make the women happier, that's for sure. Anything that gave us more quiet would. You grow up thinking a station's crowded? Around here you can't get from one end of town to the other without bumping into everyone else. And there are things that... well. Women need privacy for some things. You know that, Lady Ayame."

Yes, she did. Her rank and the locomotive had allowed her more privacy than most, yet Ayame still felt the loss of moments to just be alone. "We could use some of the salvaged cloth for curtains," she offered, making another note. "It doesn't have to be strong for that."

"If we could obtain another car, we could arrange it for those practicing crafts that require intense concentration," Kurusu stated. "In the meantime, while we must keep the sortie car reasonably clear in case of emergencies, there is no reason we could not set up a schedule for its use. Even the most fierce bushi cannot practice the rifle, bow, or sword all day and all night."

Which was a heart-clenching concession, and everyone knew it. Oh, of course combat training would have priority, the Koutetsujou couldn't afford anything less. But to allow everyone else time in that car was a sacrifice of the bushi's own privacy. One her Elders accepted with bowed heads, and renewed glances at each other, full of determination.

Shimizu lifted his head. "This will require some thought, Lady Ayame."

"From all of us," Ayame said honestly. "If the maps are true, including those from the Hunters... there is a little-known route, not used by anyone else for years, that could take us back to Shitori Station." She traced the rail markings with a finger. "It would break the Koutetsujou's normal schedule, but with Kongokaku gone the schedules will be broken in any case. Shitori knows us, and they might be able to use accurate news to their advantage." And they'd be able to reunite with those they'd had to leave behind, ill and wounded. She knew everyone wanted that.

Fuyuki frowned, and studied the map again. "That route will take at least five days?"

"But Shitori has jet bullets," Mura noted, leaning over to look himself. "So they're probably still in one piece. Even if the Kabane are getting smarter."

"And there aren't many shorter routes," Shimizu muttered. "None that we know there will be a station alive at the end." He looked up again, and nodded at her. "We will use that time well, Lady Ayame. Once we see Shitori's walls again, we should know if we can make a life on the Koutetsujou."

I'm not going to swear, Ikoma told himself, braced against the side of the sortie car as strong fingers poked and prodded like hot iron rods. I'm not going to swear. I'm not going to- "Damn it, Kurusu!"

"You need the use of this hand back." The samurai didn't sound a bit sorry, as he kept working on stubby flesh and bones. Concerned, maybe, but not sorry. "We don't know enough about Kabaneri; we have to give you the best treatment for a human. Injured hands need to be strengthened as they recover. These are the best exercises we know."

Breathe in. Breathe out. "You do this all the time?"

"Since we were old enough to start on blades," Kibito put in, glancing over from where he was checking the main rifles, while Keisuke and other bushi went over beginning lessons on aim with Aragane townsmen. And one or two determined women. "You're older; it's going to hurt a lot. Kurusu's the best to show you how to keep it up anyway. He's not as tender-hearted as I am." Kibito grinned. "Well, not where it shows."

That earned him Kurusu's glare. Ikoma bit back a laugh, pain or no pain.

"Show me how to do that?" Hozumi leaned her elbows on a stack of stray supplies, watching intently. "If there's a way to hold onto weapons more strongly, I want to know."

Ikoma grimaced, thinking of how the Wazatori had disarmed her in Yashiro Station. "It might not matter as much with a rifle, but... that would be good."

"It's nothing as simple as strength." Kurusu went back to his painful kneading. "There is flexibility. Knowing the angle you need, so an enemy's force has to fight not only your fingers' grip, but the leverage of your bones and body. It is..." He paused, thinking. "Focusing only on your hands is similar to having only a short wrench."

Ikoma started, following that through. "You can get in close, but if the bolt's really stubborn - you need lubricant. And a longer wrench, so you can get your whole body into it."

Kurusu raised a brow at lubricant, but nodded. "Leverage. Steel, flesh and bone - it is the same."

Steel didn't bleed. But he'd have to think about the rest of it. If fighting was like engineering, if there were underlying principles that made sense - maybe he could figure out how to fight better.

Quiet murmurs rippled through the car. Ikoma looked up as Kurusu let go, watching Uryuu and Eishun walk down the car toward them.

A little less swagger, Ikoma thought. Maybe they're starting to believe that we're not going to kill them.

Uryuu scanned the car to double-check who was and wasn't there, then nodded at Kurusu. "You're going to get trouble from Kongokaku in a few days."

Oh, that's not ominous, Ikoma thought, straightening away from the wall.

But that was Uryuu being blunt, not threatening. And apparently Kurusu was willing to take it that way. "Why?" the samurai asked calmly.

"'Cause in about two days this track's going to take us through Keishi," Uryuu stated. "And maybe border stations like Aragane don't know that name, but I guarantee you some of those bastard nobles from Kongokaku do."

"Keishi..." Kibito frowned. "The old temple city?"

Ikoma let out a slow breath. "It's one of the first places the Kabane appeared in Hi-no-moto. I don't know if it's the first. There weren't a lot of survivors." At Uryuu's startled look, he shrugged. "I've looked for everything I could find on the Kabane. Where they came from. What they're vulnerable to. What we don't know. Some of the oldest reports I could find came from crazy Keishi survivors. They're... not easy to read."

Uryuu still looked startled, if thoughtful. Eishun chewed his lip, then nodded, as if that only made sense. "Should be safe," the scarfed Hunter offered. "No prey for almost twenty years? Kabane should have moved out. But..."

"But the Kongokaku will consider the land accursed," Kurusu finished for him. "We will inform Lady Ayame." He paused. "Though she would not look unkindly on a visit. You lead the Hunters. It is your right."

"We'll think about it." Uryuu frowned at Ikoma. "And what are you thinking?"

Besides trying not to think about some of the panicked accounts from people who had no idea what Kabane were, only that the dead wouldn't stay dead? "I think we can use this," Ikoma said honestly. "People ran away from Keishi in a panic. Worse than evacuating a station. They didn't know what was happening. How fast they had to run. How much they should leave behind. How to defend themselves, when the Kabane caught them." He faced Uryuu straight on, knowing the Hunter understood hard-edged need. "I don't know what we'll find for salvage, but odds are we can find enough to supply the Koutetsujou, if we trade it at a station."

"Take what the dead left behind?" Uryuu's mouth curved in a wry smile. "Careful. I might get to like you."

Kibito whistled. "Dogen's people won't be happy."

"They aren't happy now," Hozumi hmphed. "I want to live. I want to see if we can bring Aragane back. I want to eat rice!"

That last one might take a while, Ikoma thought. I don't know why solid food makes us sick. I don't know if anybody would know, besides Biba's doctors, and they're all dead.

Which made him angry at Biba all over again. There weren't enough doctors already, and he'd tangled up some of the few that were left in crazy murderous plots. And all the medical texts they would have had would have been on the Kokujou-

Hozumi poked him. "What?"

"People in Keishi would have run, and left a lot of heavy things behind," Ikoma said slowly, feeling the idea out. "I used to have anatomy books, to design the piercing gun..." And the hanging rig. And it'd worked. "Books are heavy. And the reports say a lot of doctors got bitten first."

"Their work might have been left behind," Kurusu nodded. "Does it matter? We know how to kill the Kabane."

"It matters," Ikoma said fiercely. "Yes, we can kill them. But where did they come from?"

-End.

A/N: Honey and Kabaneri: It's canon they have human brains. (Well, mostly human - they're picking up Kabane somehow that isn't through normal senses. See TV Tropes' WMG on Kabane and mass minds.) Active brains need glucose. Heck, some of Mumei's bad decisions in ep 5 and 6 could easily be low blood sugar. Granted, you can get by on just protein for a while, your body can strip that down for calories, but any time you use a lot of concentration (such as, say, trying to control inhuman strength and reflexes in the middle of a life-or-death fight) your brain is going to demand sugar. This seemed like the simplest way to provide the Kabaneri "medicine" that exists in canon and have it be something that would actually work.

Also, given this is something that Biba as a Kabaneri needs himself - well, frankly, it had to be something simple. Or he'd never have figured it out in time to keep from going mindless.

Allergies were first named and identified in 1906. But food intolerance has probably been known in one form or another since the dawn of human history, and mushrooms are a pretty safe bet as "we don't have this every day."