Short Stories from the Fire Hunter Universe
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Twenty-seven students were lined up inside the closed classroom, but it was still cold.
Nio breathed on his numb hands and rubbed them together. He should have worn more layers. Winter had come earlier this year than last year.
The teacher spoke in the front of the room. This was a literature class. Literature was Nio’s least favorite subject. For the past two weeks, the class had been studying a fictional story written by someone a long time ago. The story was so old that it predated the world’s last war. The war that destroyed almost everything. The story was about people who were alive during that war.
The lesson was tedious. Nio found it discouraging to discover that people had always fought with one another. He didn’t know why he had to study this story when it had such a stupid theme of the cycle of violence. It seemed pointless to read about fictional people, anyway. None of the stuff in the story had really happened. It was based on the war, but it wasn’t a historical account.
Nio considered the author to be rather shameless. They’d made up a story about a terrible tragedy and they’d written it in a way that was meant to be entertaining. To him, that seemed absolutely insane.
As Nio shrank into himself because of the cold, he allowed his mind to drift beyond the confines of this classroom. He thought about the canals that connected various parts of the city.
Human life was cheap in the capital. People didn’t die in war anymore, but they dropped like flies thanks to industrial pollution. No one seemed to notice or do anything. The wealthy rarely died that way, and only the wealthy were educated. Most people knew what was happening, but they just ignored it.
Nio knew there was something wrong with the world, but he had no idea how to fix it. Perhaps the countless dead simply lacked the strength to survive in this world. He told himself such things when he was trying to affirm his own existence.
“Help me!”
The face of the man who’d reached out to him for aid haunted his thoughts. Nio saw him staring, desperate with his mouth wide open. His row of teeth looked like a wild animal’s.
Someone tapped Nio on the shoulder. He turned and received a scrap of paper from a classmate’s hand. He didn’t take his eyes off his own notebook as he read the passed note. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
After school, meet at the old road.
The note was from Kumiko. She was surely up to some kind of mischief again. Her handwriting was bold and confident. A few other people had already initialed the note as a kind of RSVP, so Nio wasn’t the only intended recipient of this message.
Nio folded up the note and slipped it into his pocket before the teacher could notice anything.
***
Dirty smoke drifted across a silver-gray sky. The Academy’s spire rose sharply upward like it wanted to pierce the heavens.
Nio stepped outside, shivering in the wind. His muscles loosened up a bit as he walked. Moving made him warmer, which made it easier to be outside.
Kumiko had caught him in the hallway and had told him to come to the old road at a specific time. He still had time to kill, so he decided to stop by the Central Archives before heading over there.
Students poured through the main entrance of the Central Archives as Nio approached. One student seemed to be in a particular hurry. He was a young teenager wearing glasses. Nio had seen him before but he didn’t know his name. The teenager didn’t look at anyone as he walked out of the Central Archives and down the hill.
Only poor people lived at the bottom of the hill that the Academy stood upon. Almost all of the children in the Academy came from wealthy families. Being wealthy meant not needing to worry about a lot of things in everyday life. The rich could afford to think about the future because there was a good chance they’d be there to see it. The poor could only think as far ahead as their next meal, if they were lucky enough to have it. They didn’t need an education to get a job.
Being wealthy was a privilege. Children came here to learn how to influence others and build strong friendships with other rich people.
The boy running down the hill was the only student in the Academy who was here on a scholarship at the moment. Nio had heard that he had a sick mother or sister or something at home. He always went straight home after school and rarely spoke to anyone. Nio had no idea if the rumors about his home life were true or not.
Nio knew that the boy ran home after school every day. Maybe he wasn’t allowed to stay after classes ended. Or maybe he had someone waiting for him, anxious to see him come home. The latter case was a luxury that Nio himself had never experienced.
Thinking unpleasant thoughts, Nio turned his steps to the Central Archives.
***
“So, what’s the story this time?”
Nio had joined two others and Kumiko at the old road. Youku spoke first, crossing her arms and tilting her head.
Kumiko sighed dramatically and then let out a sly laugh. She liked to pretend to be mysterious and aloof. She cast a cat-like gaze over her friends. Nio, Youku, Karin and Kumiko faced the large canal on the south side of this residential area. All of their noses were red from the cold.
“The teacher dropped this,” Kumiko said. She took a small notebook and a plain glass bottle out of her bag.
“What is that? A plant?” Karin hopped from foot to foot, trying to warm her feet.
Nio and the girls looked closely at the bottle. There was a piece of wood inside that looked wet. Something green like moss was growing all over it. The bottle was sealed with a metal lid and appeared to be airtight.
“You’re stealing again, Kumiko?” Nio asked. He frowned. The teacher hadn’t dropped this; he would certainly have noticed.
Kumiko had a bad habit of “borrowing” things people had left behind in class. This included the teachers. She called her investigations into other people’s belongings “independent study.” This unsavory hobby had allowed Kumiko to gain a broad range of semi-random, self-taught knowledge.
Caught out for stealing again, Kumiko simply shrugged and then smiled. She handed the bottle to Karin. Then she started flipping through the notebook.
“Yes, this is a plant. But it seems that it’s not just an ordinary plant,” Kumiko said.
Youku stood beside Kumiko, reading over her shoulder. She glanced up at Nio and shrugged. They’d gone along with Kumiko’s mischief just like this plenty of times before. This time was no different.
“A new species, maybe?” Nio asked.
Kumiko laughed again, her voice teasing and light. “No, not at all. If it were something that simple, there wouldn’t be any need to call everyone together. I just happened to see it in Professor Gyoushichi’s desk. I couldn’t help but be curious, so I looked at the notebook that was stored with it, and—well, see for yourself.”
Kumiko declared her theft so brazenly that Nio and the girls exchanged eyerolls.
“This plant is part of a Tree Person’s body,” Kumiko said. She appeared fascinated by the specimen in the bottle. For all her many faults, she possessed genuine intellectual curiosity about a wide range of subjects.
“A Tree Person?” Youku raised an eyebrow.
Tree People lived in the Black Forest. Nio and the others had learned about them when they were elementary school students. Tree People had tough bodies that protected them from Fire Fiend attacks and they helped people from the villages. They also assisted Fire Hunters when they went into the forest to harvest fire fuel. They didn’t look completely human. They served the Guardian Gods much as humans did, though in different ways.
The green lump inside the jar looked like the scale of an enormous green fish.
“But why does the teacher have something like this? I’ve heard that there are Tree People in the city’s quarantine zone, but no one’s allowed to go there.”
Karin raised the jar in her hand. Entering the quarantine zone was prohibited. She had no idea where the quarantine zone even was. People with the right connections might be able to find out, though.
“Is this the skin of the Tree People or something? Or could it possibly be a finger?” Youku asked.
Karin flinched and shrank back, holding the jar away from her as far as possible.
“Don’t be so secretive. What else is written in there?” Nio asked.
Nio and the girls hadn’t joined Kumiko in her hobby until earlier this year. If Kumiko had done things like this before, she never mentioned it. Nio’s and the girls’ grades had improved since they’d started performing these investigations. Knowledge gained themselves in semi-secrecy stuck better than anything they read in textbooks. The teachers praised the four of them for their curiosity.
Gathering around their latest find and asking questions always made Nio feel inspired and free.
“It’s not a finger… maybe it’s a tumor? Why did Professor Gyoushichi have it? It says here that he went to the quarantine zone in secret,” Kumiko said.
Nio’s eyes went wide in surprise.
“It doesn’t say exactly where the quarantine zone is,” Kumiko said. “He wrote that he found something that he needed to report to the Guardian Gods. He took this out of the quarantine zone so that he could show the Guardian Gods evidence of what he found.”
Karin’s eyes darted toward the city’s industrial area. The Guardian Gods’ shrine towered above it. The gray clouds in the sky parted around the shrine like a hole in the world. Above the shrine, the sky was blue and clear.
“Why would he need evidence? Did he think the Guardian Gods wouldn’t do anything unless he showed them? If he harmed a Tree Person to get this, wouldn’t that be a bigger issue? The Tree People serve the Guardian Gods directly, right?” Nio asked. He leaned closer to the bottle Karin held. He’d forgotten all about the cold.
Kumiko shrugged. “Apparently the professor thought what he did was worth removing this from the quarantine zone.” She shut the notebook. “Now we know that people can get into the quarantine zone. I thought that the Tree People were hidden under the shrine, but if that’s not so, then there must be an entrance to the quarantine zone in the industrial area. We can find it and go in.” Her eyes narrowed slyly. She wore no makeup, but the corners of her eyes were tinged red. She looked much older than fifteen at that moment. “Maybe we’ll discover some weakness of the Guardian Gods.”
Nio shivered. Youku and Karin held their breath.
“We shouldn’t talk about this here,” Youku whispered.
The old road ran beside a maze of interconnected buildings, chimneys and metal cables that cris-crossed like fishing nets. The Guardian Gods’ shrine loomed over it all, towering and majestic. The Guardian Gods gathered beneath the tiled roof of the shrine. They were supposed to be wise and powerful, but Nio and the girls doubted both their authority and their power.
There was no question about what they would do now. Only practical considerations remained: when and how.
***
“The days are getting shorter. You need to come home earlier,” Nio’s father said that night at the dinner table.
His voice was strict as usual. He always made Nio feel tired. His eyes roved over his son like an overlord searching for some fault in a vassal. He ate his meat noisily, clinking dishes and chewing loudly.
Nio’s mother put down her utensils briefly, considering some way of breaking the tension at the dinner table.
A house servant stood in the corner, quiet and unobtrusive.
“The capital is far from safe. You’re still a child. You should come home from the Academy earlier. If you want to review your lessons, you can do that at home. We have more than enough books and materials here,” Nio’s father said. There was an undercurrent of disappointment in his tone. Nio’s grades were far from the best in his class. The house had more books than Nio could ever read in it and he hadn’t even opened most of them.
Without Kumiko’s independent study activities, Nio’s grades would be far worse. He relied heavily on what his friends taught him.
The meat and steamed vegetables on the table tasted like nothing to him.
“You spend time with friends after school, don’t you, Nio?” Nio’s mother asked. “I seem to recall two girls from the Shien and Noroshi families.1 Both families own factories that have good reputations. Fostering good relations with important people is a good thing,” she said.
Nio’s father slammed his glass of rice wine on the table. “Those friends should also go straight home. You all must be safe to grow up and take on adult responsibilities like managing the factories. That’s why we’re sending you to the Academy. You shouldn’t have any time to play.”
To play? Nio wanted to tell him that he hadn’t been playing, but the words died in his throat. He always felt like he couldn’t really talk to his parents. They were his family, but they didn’t understand him. His mother pitied him and his father found him irritating.
“If the classes at the Academy are not enough, we can hire a private tutor for you. You could even quit the Academy and study at home.”
Nio stopped eating altogether, staring at his plate as he slowly shook his head.
“Spending time with friends is important, too,” Nio’s mother said. “When he becomes a factory manager, he’ll need to interact with a lot of different kinds of people. Social skills are critical.”
Nio started eating again, minding his table manners. His parents started talking, but he wasn’t paying attention to what they said. Sometimes it sounded like they were speaking a completely different language. The room was brightly lit, but to Nio it felt dim. The servant stood in the corner like a shadow while his parents ate gray, dull-tasting food.
He wondered what the scholarship boy would think of all this. Meals were different in the city’s poorer areas. When the poor boy went straight home every night, he wouldn’t find a formal dining room with fancy china and expensive food. His house wouldn’t be brightly lit; fire fuel was expensive. This lavish extravagance struck Nio as laughable. He would rather gather at a table with friends and people who loved him and eat the cheapest food there was than be here.
About halfway through dinner, Nio wondered if he should go up to his room. It was an impulsive thought. He’d likely get in trouble if he tried it. He kept sitting at the table and ate listlessly. He was hungry, but not for the food in front of him. He chopped meat into pieces with his knife and fork and ate his vegetables roughly, neglecting table manners for the moment. His parents cast glances his way as he ate.
His father seemed quietly satisfied. He took a long sip of rice wine from his glass and kept eating.
***
It took four days to prepare the plan.
The quarantine zone was somewhere in the industrial area. Kumiko and Youku explored the industrial area during their off hours from school. They were fast runners and looked like normal kids, so no one would notice them sneaking around. Karin was the daughter of a factory owner and went around the city in work clothes. She and Youku were both able to blend in with other young factory workers, especially after they smeared oil on their faces. Nio was too tall to explore like his friends did; he would have stuck out like a sore thumb.
Karin and Youku asked people on the street if they’d ever seen a Tree Person before.
“Most people just yelled at us and told us not to interfere with their work,” Kumiko said when she reported back to the others. They’d gathered on the old road again. “If anyone finds out who we really are, we’ll be in trouble. It might not be safe to do this much longer.”
Kumiko, Nio and the others were huddling under a tree to help shield them from the cutting cold of the wind. The old road was in sight, but half-hidden by branches and leaves. Wind whistled through the branches overhead.
“We could ask our parents,” Karin said. “One of them probably knows something about the Tree People.” She shrugged.
Kumiko and Youku absorbed this suggestion silently. They didn’t trust adults; they were unlikely to ask their parents anything. Adults bent and stooped and labored for the Guardian Gods’ sake or for more wealth or power. Even their own flesh and blood weren’t trustworthy.
“I found out about a few places where we might look,” Youku said. “So we don’t need to ask anyone else yet.”
Nio shrank into himself and rubbed his arms. He was freezing.
“Karin, did you and Nio make our disguises?” Kumiko asked.
Karin nodded. She wiped her red nose on her sleeve.
“After school tomorrow, the four of us will search for the quarantine zone,” Kumiko said in a voice filled with solemnity.
***
On the day when Nio and the girls were going to start their search, Nio’s class was dismissed almost an hour earlier than usual. Kumiko had leveraged the bottle she had stolen from the teacher to get the class to end early.
Professor Gyoushichi taught physics. He spent most of the lesson in a state of high dudgeon. It was obvious that he was upset about the theft of the bottle.
Right before class, Kumiko slipped the bottle and the notebook under the professor’s desk. This was dangerous because the professor might assume that a student had taken the bottle, so she’d wrapped it in zigzag-shaped paper streamers that she’d folded by hand with high-quality blessed paper. Fortunately, she’d received a box of this paper from her parents as a gift when she’d advanced to the next grade in the Academy.
Streamers like the ones Kumiko had made were used to show veneration to the Guardian Gods. This planted a seed of reasonable doubt. Professor Gyoushichi had reason to fear the Guardian Gods’ anger for taking a piece of a Tree Person out of the quarantine zone.
Professor Gyoushichi’s face went ashen as he discovered the bottle and the notebook. He ended the class right when it was supposed to begin, causing confusion among the other students.
Kumiko’s pranks could sometimes go too far. Blaming the Guardian Gods for stealing was perhaps her most audacious act.
Nio was excited. He didn’t feel guilty at all for lying to the teacher or covering up Kumiko’s crime. He was so eager that he forgot about the cold and dashed down the Academy stairs.
He beat his friends to the entrance of the building. The scholarship boy was running a few steps ahead of him. Youku called out to him from behind before he could catch up to the boy.
“That guy,” Youku muttered.
“What about him?”
The scholarship boy was running down the hill and was almost out of sight now.
“Do you believe that he really goes home every night to take care of his sick mother or something?”
“I don’t know,” Nio said.
Youku snorted, irritated. “If it’s true, it’s infuriating. To think that someone who hardly has any time to study matches or exceeds our marks in class.”
Nio frowned. The scholarship boy had always been a bit unsettling. No one else wore the plain, cheap uniform that the school sold in a little shop on the grounds. The scholarship boy wore that uniform every day, presumably because the rest of his clothes wouldn’t conform to the Academy’s dress code. He never seemed embarrassed by his obvious poverty. His grades were always good; sometimes he was the best student in the class.
“Maybe his parents bribed the teachers,” Youku said. “If they have influential jobs, that’s possible.”
“Maybe,” Nio said, but he doubted the scholarship boy’s family had money for bribes.
Youku was a talented student who also excelled at sports. Nio’s grades were solid, but not exceptional, and the same was true of his athletic performance.
“I think that has to be it,” Youku said. “His father is a Fire Hunter. Maybe he asked the Guardian Gods to help his kid out in exchange for more fire fuel or something.” Her voice expressed bitter contempt.
One of the rumors about the scholarship boy that was almost certainly true was that his father was a Fire Hunter. Fire Hunters met with Guardian Gods directly sometimes. It wasn’t a stretch of imagination to think that the scholarship boy had secured his spot at the Academy because of his father.
Fire Hunters were solidly working-class as a group, but their labor was necessary to life, so even wealthy factory owners showed them some respect. The clothes and armor that Fire Hunters wore were often stained with blood and filth, but no one considered that rude. Fire Hunters risked their lives against the terrifying Fire Fiends.
Nio didn’t like Fire Hunters. He was terrified of them. He hated that he and his friends relied on the work they did, not just for luxuries but for basic survival. He often felt useless compared to his friends. He was only accepted into the group because of his sincere and strong mistrust toward the Guardian Gods.
“See you soon,” Nio said. He started walking ahead of Youku.
***
Nio and the girls weren’t meeting at the old road today. They’d picked a place in the slums. It was a terrible area, poorer than the one where the city’s lower-class workers lived and crowded with those who had even less. The meeting place was a bridge that led into the industrial area.
Kumiko was there ahead of Nio, wearing trousers that reached down to her shins instead of one of her customary skirts. Her hair was tied back and tucked under a cap. She looked just like a boy from a slight distance away. Close up, the smoothness of her face and hands and the cleanliness of her clothes revealed that she’d never worked in a factory a day in her life.
Kumiko and Nio paired up and so did Youku and Karin, each group going in a different direction. Even disguised, their group of four would stand out. The clothes were itchy and uncomfortable. Nio felt like he was wearing someone else’s skin. His discomfort made him walk faster than usual. The disguises were made of thin fabrics that did little to keep out the cold wind.
Makeshift houses lined the poorly maintained road that Kumiko and Nio walked down. The roar of factory machines was clearly audible. The buildings had exposed pipes and ladders up to the roof. Everything appeared disordered and messy.
A large tree grew in the industrial area. The Guardian Gods had planted it long ago as a memorial to a half-forgotten conflict. The tree stood out amid the metal, smoke and steam of the factories. The Guardian Gods’ shrine was scarcely visible from this part of the city.
The ground rose sharply under their feet as Kumiko and Nio kept walking. After they reached the top of the cliff that connected to this section of the old road, they’d be able to see a lot of the nearby factories from above.
“Kumiko, why did you start doing this?” Nio asked quietly. He didn’t worry too much about being overheard. The industrial noises around him would drown out his voice. “You started alone at first, right?”
Nio had never asked this before. When Youku and Karin were around, this question felt too awkward to voice aloud. He wasn’t sure if Kumiko would answer it even when they were alone. He still wanted to ask it now. He might never get a better chance to ask it.
Kumiko glanced sidelong at him, shadows moving over her pert nose as she turned her head. “I was bored. The capital is such a terrible place, but I was safe at home, living comfortably enough. I couldn’t stand it. I needed to do something.”
“So you started doing this just because you were bored?” Nio asked.
Kumiko’s shoulders tensed up. “I think things should be fair. We should live like the people in this part of the city and vice versa.”
Nio frowned and missed a step, nearly tripping over an iron manhole cover. “That doesn’t make any sense. The people who live on the hill are special. They’ve worked hard to get there and maintain their status. The Guardian Gods rely on them. The people at the bottom of the hill don’t work hard like that, so why should they live the same way we do?”
Nio was repeating what his father had said many times. His father’s anger at the poor bubbled up in him, though it was not his own emotion. It was borrowed from his parents and made him feel terrible.
Kumiko didn’t look at him. She stared straight ahead.
“You’re wrong,” Kumiko said. “The poor work as hard as we do, if not harder. They don’t live at the bottom of the hill by choice. Do you really think the children of the slums asked to be born here?”
Nio felt as if Kumiko was gripping his heart in her hand and squeezing tight. He knew his friend’s opinions, of course, but they hadn’t spoken of them this openly before.
“Our parents say that we’re special,” Kumiko said. “They claim that wealth trickles down—that the wealthier we get, the better off the poor will be. But that’s all a lie. Only the wealthy live decent lives, and they’re still subjugated by the Guardian Gods. We’ve lost so much already. If we don’t fight the status quo, we’ll lose even more.”
“I think you’re right,” Nio said. He was always angry; the feeling boiled under the surface of his skin. But he rarely showed it. He had few outlets for his feelings. That was one of the reasons he participated in Kumiko’s investigations.
There were things that Nio had never told anyone, not even his closest friends. So much had been taken from him on that day—the day he’d never spoken of. The secret was too big to share. Sometimes he wondered if that day had been a dream.
Sharing adventures with his friends allowed him to punch down the horrible memories. He never forgot, but the anger at injustice within him simmered instead of boiling over as long as he was with his friends. It would be easier on him if he could just forget, but he couldn’t. Forgetting would be cowardice. Nio would lose who he was if he did.
“I’ve lost something irreplaceable because of the Guardian Gods,” Nio said. “Someday, I think I’ll be able to talk about it.” It felt easier to confide in Kumiko than any of the others.
Kumiko looked at Nio out of the corner of her eye, then turned to face him. Their steps kicked up dust. “We’ve all lost something,” she said. “I lost my horse.”
“Your horse?”
Nio was so surprised that he forgot to pay attention to his surroundings.
“Yes. My very precious horse. I never had another horse that matched me so well.” Kumiko’s voice was clear and high as if she were singing.
Nio knew that Kumiko was an equestrian. He remembered a sleek, long-legged black horse that he’d seen once or twice.
“At the time, I was too small to take care of the horses, but that one horse would always nuzzle his nose against me when I approached even though I never fed him. He was my favorite, an irreplaceable horse. And yet…”
And yet, she’d lost it.
Nio’s heart beat loudly in his ears. She’s doing all this over a horse? A horse was just a beast. Just livestock.
Help me.
There’d been a terrible crush of people when the city was being evacuated during the Great Fire. People had surged at Nio, begging him and the other children to give up their safe spots in boats. The child next to Nio had been dragged off, weeping and screaming until they vanished into the panicking crowd of adults.
Nio had lost his respect for humanity that day. People who fought for their survival at the expense of children’s lives weren’t worthy of being thought of as people. Kumiko’s loss felt trivial compared to his. He felt unstable on his feet, like Kumiko had pushed him over a cliff or something.
Kumiko kept walking toward their destination, followed by Nio.
***
The entrance to the quarantine zone was just ahead, at the base of the large tree in the industrial area. Youku and Karin weren’t anywhere in sight. Maybe someone had noticed them and they’d had to take a detour. Nio and Kumiko had been stopped briefly by a few people as they’d walked, so they weren’t too concerned about their other friends.
“The teacher called it a garden,” Kumiko said, looking down.
Hidden among fallen, withered branches and leaves there was a pitch-black hole visible at the roots of the tree.
“We should be able to get in through this hole.”
Kumiko crouched down and moved leaves and branches aside. Nio stood behind her, his eyes digging holes in Kumiko’s back. Walking had kept him warm so far. Now that they’d stopped moving, his hands were going numb.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Youku and Karin?” Nio asked.
“They’ll catch up soon. I don’t want anyone to see us here. Let’s go in.”
The disguised Kumiko slipped through the hole into the darkness. Nio took a deep breath before he entered the hole. A foul odor wafted to his nose. He’d never smelled anything like it. He covered his nose and mouth and kept walking until he ran into Kumiko.
As his eyes adjusted, Nio saw a spiral staircase leading down around the inner perimeter of a bottomless vertical shaft. Nio and Kumiko paused at the top of the stairs. There was no handrail. Tangled plant roots grew rampant throughout the well-like space, spreading in all directions.
Small lights fixed to the wall illuminated their surroundings. At the same time, the tiny lights made the darkness at the bottom of the hole appear even deeper.
There was no sign of anything moving at the bottom of the stairs. The darkness at their feet looked like the mouth of a dead monster. It was a hollow pit connected to nowhere—not to the factories and not to the underground tunnels of the industrial area.
“Let’s go down,” Kumiko whispered. She’d brought a lantern with her. She held it up to light the way ahead. The small light didn’t do much to brighten the darkness and had a short range.
“Shouldn’t we wait?” Nio asked.
“We can’t waste time,” Kumiko said, mock-stern like she was imitating one of their teachers. “If they get here, we’ll surprise them when they catch up.”
Kumiko’s confidence made Nio feel a bit braver, but he still hesitated. “What if we fall? I still think we should wait. We have no idea what’s down there.”
“Probably just Tree People,” Kumiko said. “What else would be down there?” Her eyes flashed briefly, expressing disdain or contempt.
Nio’s chest hurt. His mouth went dry. It felt like his tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth.
“If you want to wait, go ahead and stay here. I can’t stand it—I want to uncover the secrets of the Guardian Gods as soon as possible. I can’t wait another minute.” Hatred burned in Kumiko’s eyes as she turned away from Nio and went down the stairs.
Nio couldn’t understand why Kumiko was so determined. She’d lost her horse, yes, but she could always get another one. There were plenty of pastures in the northern part of the city. She couldn’t really want to live like all the poor people or think that poor people should live like rich people; that was just ridiculous.
Kumiko was angry—Nio understood that—but he didn’t really understand why. His friend seemed unfamiliar to him now as she went down the stairs alone.
There was still no sign of Youku or Karin anywhere.
Step by step, Kumiko descended the stone stairs. Her light gradually moved farther away. The lighting originally installed on the walls of the well was not nearly enough to ensure visibility.
Nio inhaled the thick, foul-smelling air. The anger that was always in him rose to the surface. He started going down the stairs before his awful feelings could overwhelm him.
To think that this huge place was a secret—an open secret right in the middle of the industrial area. It reminded him of his history classes. He’d learned a lot about relics from the old world. In the cities of the past, there were buildings that towered into the sky, far larger than the Academy’s spires or the iron towers of the factories.
This place was like the inversion of skyscrapers. It was built deep into the earth, so deep that Nio still couldn’t see the bottom of it. He wasn’t cold anymore. It got warmer the lower he descended. Unfortunately, the air also became nastier with every step he took. He covered his mouth with his sleeve.
Nio stopped and screamed when he saw what looked like a human face embedded in the wall of the well. His scream echoed and reverberated around the pit.
The eyes of the thin face were closed. It almost looked like a stone sculpture, but it was far too realistic. Long hair grew from the top of the skull and swayed slightly as Nio approached. The mouth was open, red lips parted like a fresh wound.
A living person was entombed in the wall… or perhaps a person was being born, very slowly, from the stone? Was this a Tree Person?
Nio’s knees shook. He made himself stand up straighter, suppressing his fear. He’d scraped the back of his hand on the edge of a stone step when he’d stumbled back in shock. The scrape was deep enough to bleed. He shoved his wounded hand in his pocket to conceal the injury from Kumiko. They weren’t in a position to seek out first aid at the moment.
Kumiko soon reached the bottom of the stairs. Nio was close behind her. They looked around together. They stood in a vast hall where grass grew and twisted. There were a few trees around them. It looked like a garden, but not one that was tamed. The whole area looked like it had been struck by some terrible blight. Perhaps this hall had been grand once, but now it was nothing but a ruin.
“Little mice have lost their way.” The low voice made Nio and Kumiko jump in fright. That voice came from the grass growing out of the floor.
Nio held his breath and squinted, trying to see who had spoken to them.
Leaves of grass gently swayed back and forth in the light of Kumiko’s lantern.
“Who’s there?” Kumiko asked.
Something rushed out from behind the grass. It approached, parting the grass at a speed too fast for the eye to track. Tearing through the waves of grass, a gigantic beast charged at them, its murderous intent laid bare.
The beast had a dog’s face, a dog’s eyes, and a dog’s white fangs. But its size was not that of a normal dog. Golden flames erupted from its white-furred coat. The beast lunged at them, mouth open and ready to tear off Kumiko’s head.
A dull thud echoed in the underground space.
The beast made an annoyed whine as a log wedged its jaws open.
Nio blinked in surprise. The log was part of an arm. That arm was part of a person who had tree bark instead of skin. The person’s eyes were a vibrant jade green.
“En, how many times have I told you not to attack the little humans?” the Tree Person asked. Their voice was low and deep.
The giant dog’s ears flattened to its skull. It whined again. Dog drool dripped on the floor.
Kumiko brought her lantern closer to the Tree Person. Her hand wasn’t quite steady. Both she and Nio were a little out of breath.
“You… you’re a Tree Person, right?” Kumiko asked.
Nio wasn’t brave enough to speak yet. The Tree Person looked roughly like a person, but he wouldn’t describe it as human.
“What have you come here for?” the Tree Person asked. They appeared male; his head was shaved and his shoulders were broad. Knobby protrusions densely covered his head, face, shoulders, arms, and back. These scale-like bumps were a pale green. The Tree Person appeared to be more plant than person. The awful odor Nio had smelled at the top of the stairs radiated off of the Tree Person in waves.
“The green bark that our professor brought back—that was yours, wasn’t it?” Kumiko asked.
The Tree Person stared at them, jade-green eyes unblinking. Nio felt like the Tree Person could read his mind or something. He felt terribly vulnerable and exposed.
“Hm… are you acquainted with other humans who have come here?” the Tree Person asked.
Strange laughter echoed in the hall.
Startled, Nio and Kumiko turned toward the new sound. A different Tree Person sat on the ground with their knees drawn in to their chest. Their face was wrinkled and smiling. They wore rags that didn’t cover much; they were completely emaciated. A tree was growing from one side of their head. It was so heavy that their neck tilted to the side.
“A guest. A visitor. Ah, you want Haimatsu’s bark?”2
The emaciated Tree Person laughed again.
“Haimatsu?” Nio asked. Was that the other Tree Person’s name? Had his physics teacher taken a sample of Haimatsu’s knotty skin? Had he sneaked into the quarantine zone to find out more about what the Guardian Gods were doing?
Nio couldn’t imagine anyone willingly coming to a place like this. This hall was strange and felt very dangerous. It was dark and smelled terrible and they’d almost been attacked by a giant dog. Nio’s thoughts were chaotic and jumbled; he couldn’t calm herself.
The gurgling sound of water echoed in Nio’s ears.
Help me.
His loss affected him like the open wound on his hand. Like recent pain. A child who had been right beside Nio had been dragged away from him. A man had taken the child’s place violently. Nio had found this experience repulsive to his core.
He wondered where Youku and Karin were. Surely they should have reached the quarantine zone by now?
“Is Haimatsu your name?” Kumiko asked the knotty Tree Person. “Why are you all here, hidden and underground like this?” She spun in a slow circle, taking in her surroundings. She appeared sad for these poor people. “This place is like a prison.”
The Tree People didn’t react to her questions positively or negatively. They gazed upon their guests impassively. Several insects flew through the air.
“We came here because we want to save you. Tree People serve the Guardian Gods, but do the Guardian Gods truly deserve your service? Or do all the humans just believe their lies? I want to expose the truth and save you all. When you are saved, the other humans will know what’s happening and they’ll be saved, too. We humans have suffered greatly under the Guardian Gods’ rule. I want to correct that injustice for humans and for Tree People.”
The emaciated Tree Person laughed uproariously.
Kumiko flinched.
Nio found it hard to believe that Tree People like this helped the scattered villages in the Black Forest. Haimatsu could move normally and had called off the giant dog, but he seemed to be suffering from some illness. The other Tree Person seemed incapable of moving much at all. Who would think to rely on these Tree People to help them?
Maybe these weren’t normal Tree People. Perhaps they’d been imprisoned here for some crime or other defect. These Tree People didn’t match his knowledge or his expectations at all. The Guardian Gods wouldn’t use these Tree People as servants; they were useless for that. Kumiko’s guess that this was a prison didn’t seem too far off.
“Little mice have no business interfering with the Guardian Gods,” Haimatsu said stiffly. The Tree Person stood up straighter. He was at least twice as tall as Kumiko.
Nio broke into a cold sweat. The huge white dog lurked in the tall grass, growling.
“The other one silently took from us without even greeting anyone. These little mice have manners, at least. But you cannot save us. No one can. Go back. Quickly. While you still can…”
Kumiko gave Nio a look, but Nio had no idea what it meant. If the Tree People here didn’t want to be saved, Nio didn’t think they should risk themselves to try. Nio looked at the Tree People. He’d never told the truth of his loss to Kumiko, Youku or Karin. He wanted to now, but he also didn’t want to. He was afraid.
Nio sensed something strange in the room. A white bird alighted on the stairs behind them. The bird’s plumage glowed.
“You should go home now,” the bird said. Their voice was like a little girl’s.
A moment later, the bird became a child in white robes. The child’s hair was worn in the mizura style, with a bun gathered up on either side of the head. That hairstyle could only be worn by people of high rank.
Nio’s knee’s buckled.
The child looked down their nose at Kumiko and Nio, dispassionate.
This was a Guardian God. Nio was briefly so terrified that his mind went blank. He’d never seen a Guardian God before.
Kumiko had gone pale and was frozen to the spot.
“Wandering in here is dangerous,” the Guardian God said. “You might be caught by the human adults, and then you’d really be in trouble. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to poke your nose into things that you shouldn’t? Or do you distrust Guardian Gods so much that you decided to break all the rules?”
The Guardian God’s voice was like a singing bird’s, but it was shrill, not melodic. “I found two of your other friends. They already went home. I told them not to come near here again.” The Guardian God smiled, narrowing her eyes.
Nio let out an involuntary cry of fear. His knees shook. They’d been discovered. They might be killed. Kumiko grabbed his hand and squeezed it.
“Run,” Kumiko mouthed.
Run? Nio’s eyes widened. It was impossible for them to run. They’d never be able to escape. A Guardian God had caught them! Youku and Karin had also been caught and had gone home… or had they? Nio had no way of knowing if his other two friends were safe.
“They’re just little mice,” Haimatsu said. “They wandered in by accident.”
“That’s right,” the emaciated Tree Person said. “After all, this place isn’t hidden from humans. It’s only natural that some might wander in.”
The Guardian God jumped off the stairs and landed on the floor of the hall with a sharp sound. Her wooden clogs scraped against stone. She was now standing scant steps away from Nio and Kumiko. She looked out of place here in this hall where the air was choked and everything had an air of decay.
Kumiko had set down her lantern long ago; it had burned down most of the way. She and Nio could still see somewhat. The Guardian God radiated a light all her own.
“Occasionally, humans do wander in,” the Guardian God conceded. “I’m just a guard. I usually just drive them out when I find them. If the Wood Clan were on watch, they’d be captured to become experiments.” She frowned. “I don’t like their methods. The humans should be aware that this place is off-limits. That would prevent more people from accidentally stumbling in.” She tapped her chin with one finger. She seemed entirely unaware that the children in front of her were close to passing out in terror.
“The Wood Clan change the people who wander in here into more Tree People,” the Guardian God said. “There are many Tree People already in the Black Forest, but apparently there’s always a need for more. The ones in the forest can reproduce the old-fashioned way, though. Turning curious wanderers into more Tree People seems like an inefficient use of resources.” She shrugged. “But that’s their way of doing things. It’s not really my concern.”
“Turn… humans? Into Tree People?” Kumiko asked.
The Guardian God’s eyes went hard. “Hm. So the Wood Clan keeps that secret? How careless of me. I hope they’ll stop forcing me to do guard duty.” She shrugged. “Plants aren’t really my thing. I prefer paper. And wind.”
The Guardian God appeared to be about the same age as Nio and Kumiko, but the way she spoke made her seem much older.
“Why are you saying all this?” Kumiko asked. “Are you saying that you won’t let us go home now?” Her hand shook in Nio’s.
“That depends on the Wood Clan,” the Guardian God said.
Nio hated the Guardian Gods so much, and now, there was one within easy reach. He remembered his terrible loss and gritted his teeth.
Help me.
Adults had dragged children out of boats in the canal, forcing themselves in. Screaming voices and twisted faces—ugly humans desperate to survive at any cost. The Guardian Gods had watched all this and done nothing.
So many people had been left to die on the shore. For many of the people who’d died, there was not even a body left to grieve over after the fires went out.
The Guardian Gods had never acknowledged this disaster. They needed to understand just how grave their sins were. They should experience the same pain and loss as everyone else. Otherwise nothing would change, and Nio’s loss would mean nothing.
The Guardian God smiled.
Nio wanted to move, but it felt like he was stuck to the spot. Why can’t I lift my feet? Why can’t I strike this Guardian God? he thought. He was weaponless. He couldn’t even speak; he was paralyzed by fear. Are we going to become Tree People? He realized that he and Kumiko had discovered at least one secret. He’d been taught that Tree People served the Guardian Gods. He’d never known that they were made from humans in experiments. He doubted anyone did.
The Tree People didn’t move to interfere with the Guardian God in any way.
Kumiko spoke out of clenched teeth. “Why do you think you can use humans like this?” she asked. Her face twisted with hatred.
The Guardian God’s expression went blank for a moment. “Because there is no shortage of them.”
Kumiko snarled in anger. “We are not your tools!”
The Guardian God remained calm and unruffled. She seemed amused by Kumiko’s outburst.
Nio had never seen Kumiko so emotional before. Usually she was more like the Guardian God, calm and collected.
“I never said that humans were tools,” the Guardian God said. “You are this city’s harvest. The capital is the garden of the Guardian Gods. No matter how we choose to make use of you, that use has purpose and meaning for us as well as you all.”
Nio felt danger in the air: sharp and frightening and getting closer. He tugged at Kumiko’s hand and stumbled toward the stairs with clumsy steps. They had to escape before it was too late.
By the time the Guardian God finished speaking, Nio was almost halfway up the stairs with Kumiko in tow. Kumiko had retrieved her lantern, but it gave them very little light. They tripped over roots growing out of the wall as they ascended, which slowed their progress. Plant roots slithered out from the hall below and pursued the children, slow at first but gaining speed. The roots looked like a snake that had split itself vertically into many slimmer copies of itself.
The Guardian God watched the children run with an expression of vague disgust on her face.
To the surface. We have to escape, Nio thought.
Kumiko grunted and gasped as they kept running. When they reached the place with the face embedded in the wall, she let out a blood-curdling shriek. The closed eyes had opened.
Nio felt himself being shoved forward by Kumiko. The roots chasing them were twining around his friend’s feet. Nio forced himself to run faster.
A black shadow blocked their way. As Nio got closer, he saw that the shadow was a person wearing a mask of white cloth that concealed their entire face. They wore wooden clogs much like the Guardian God’s.
Nio had no idea what he and Kumiko were facing. He glanced between the pit below and the shadowy figure. The Guardian God was still at the bottom of the stairs. She hadn’t moved. When she spoke, Nio could hear her clearly.
“You can’t save any of the Tree People who are here,” she said. “You will only be used by the Wood Clan if you try. You should know your place.”
The roots tugged at Kumiko’s ankle, making her trip. There was no way for them to escape now.
Nio’s hand was still in Kumiko’s. Kumiko held her flickering lantern aloft and mouthed, “Help me.”
Kumiko reached out and grabbed the leg of the shadowy figure. Then she flung herself off the stone steps. She and the shadowy figure fell down into the hole. Kumiko’s hat flew off and her hair fluttered behind her like a streamer as she fell.
Kumiko’s lantern went out. Darkness settled over everything.
Nio screamed, collapsing to his knees on the spot. He thrust his hands blindly out in front of him.
The shadowy figure suddenly vanished. In its place was a small paper doll. Blood from Nio’s scraped hand stained the doll’s foot.
Nio, stood up, confused. He heard screams below him—screams and the grunts of a beast.
Kumiko’s in trouble. I have to save her, Nio thought. She’s my best friend. But Nio was bleeding, and Kumiko had only lost a horse. He had discovered so many important things about the Tree People and blood. Blood had stymied the Guardian God’s power somehow.
The Guardian God chuckled. “If you’re going to run, then run. Go and tell other humans not to come here anymore. I don’t think my older sister would want to see this.”
Nio couldn’t see the Guardian God, but her voice sounded very close. He ran up the remaining stairs desperately. No one chased after him, maybe because he was bleeding. He reached the industrial area and took in deep, gasping breaths of dirty air. He coughed.
Help me.
Nio crawled out of the hole and stood up. The sun was setting. Smoke from the factory chimneys distorted the sunlight. He felt like he’d just awakened from a nightmare. None of what he’d just seen seemed real. He didn’t see Youku or Karin anywhere. He was still bleeding as he walked through the industrial area.
The difference between what he had lost and what Kumiko had lost weighed heavily on Nio as he walked. Kumiko had been born with everything she ever wanted and had only ever lost a favored pet. Nio had been born into nothing. He’d possessed nothing for much of his early life. All of his friends had been born into lives of privilege, but not him.
Nio ran through the industrial area and past the slums until he reached a large bridge spanning a canal. The city was crowded with homes of factory workers that all looked the same. He got turned around more than once.
He couldn’t go home until he changed his clothes. He would shock the servants and his parents if he turned up at the estate in his disguise. He’d certainly be questioned about his activities that day, too. He needed to come up with an excuse for how he’d cut his hand.
Kumiko was another concern. What if she didn’t come home? There would be an uproar. When a child from the slums went missing, no one batted an eye, but when a wealthy child went missing there was always a panic and a thorough search of the city. The life of a wealthy child was more valuable than that of a poor child.
As Nio approached his home, he found himself wondering again if everything he’d seen had been some kind of terrible dream.
The sharp, unpleasant scent of sewage made Nio want to gag as he walked beside a polluted canal. A small child was playing to the side of the canal. It was close to a communal kitchen.
Dinnertime already? Nio had to hurry or his father would scold him again. He pushed past people rudely in his haste.
The bark of a dog made Nio cry out in fear. For a brief moment, he thought that the great white beast had chased him here, but when he looked behind him, he saw an ordinary dog with short black fur. The dog was normal-sized, not huge or very small. Perhaps the dog’s owner was nearby.
“Kodama!” the scholarship boy called out.
The dog’s ears went up, and then the beast trotted to the boy.
Nio recognized the scholarship boy immediately. He was wearing glasses and his Academy uniform, as usual. The dog seemed happy to see him.
“Don’t wander off on your own,” the scholarship boy said.
The dog whined.
“You just got back from hunting! You need to rest,” the boy said sternly. He petted the black dog’s head. He didn’t seem to notice that Nio was staring at him. Perhaps Nio’s disguise was too good.
The door of a shabby row house opened behind the scholarship boy and his dog.
“You’re back? Good grief, I can’t keep up with this mutt’s energy,” a man said gruffly. This was probably the scholarship boy’s father. He wasn’t wearing a Fire Hunter’s uniform, just ordinary day clothes. His arms were partially exposed, revealing countless shining scars. He bent down and patted the black dog’s head.
Then the man, the boy and the dog entered the house. None of them looked Nio’s way.
As the canal flowed past, the sound of the rushing water brought memories of the night of the Great Fire back to Nio. The Great Fire had happened six years ago, but Nio remembered it like it was yesterday.
Nio clenched his fist. The cut on the back of his hand reopened and trickled sticky blood.
Nio’s mother had perished in the Great Fire. That was his true loss, which he’d never spoken of to anyone. She had raised him by herself. She had cleared a path so that he could get to the canals and escape the terrible fire. She had been left behind. She’d died of the human spontaneous combustion pathogen when the fire got too close to her.
Help me.
She had burned along with all the other people stranded on shore.
Kumiko had lost her horse in that same fire. She might be lost now, too, because of the Guardian Gods.
Nio bit his lip and looked down. He was terribly hungry. He wanted to go home and eat meat and forget about the past. These were the only things he wanted now.
***
After Nio got home, he spent several days in the house and didn’t step outside even once. He didn’t go to the Academy for classes. He studied at home, stopping rarely to eat and sleep. His parents were concerned, of course. They were unusually solicitous of him. Even when news came that Kumiko had gone missing, they didn’t ask him any questions.
A few days after that, he asked to be withdrawn from the Academy during dinner. The servants stood by, pretending to hear and see nothing. They cleared dishes off the table without making a sound.
“I want to study with a private tutor.”
Nio’s aged parents exchanged glances. His father slowly nodded.
“Very well. Learn in an environment that suits you.” He placed a hand on Nio’s shoulder. The weight of his touch sent a shock up and down Nio’s spine.
“You have a very strong will to live,” Nio’s father said. “You have nothing to be afraid of anymore. Eat well, learn, and grow up to be a man of power and influence in our city.”
Those words sparked determination in Nio. He nodded. “I… That is, I have one more request. I’d like to change my name.” This was a bold request, but he thought his adoptive parents would honor it. He’d lived under the name his mother had given him at birth, but she was dead now and he was an orphan. He wanted a new name for a new life. “I keep remembering the past. I want to think of the future. You’ve accepted me into your family. I wish to break away from the past and truly become a member of the Okibi family.”
His adoptive father chuckled. “Very well. We can give you a new name. Let’s see…” After a long moment, he lifted his hand from Nio’s shoulder to the top of his head. “You’ll be called Yuoshichi from now on.”3
Nio’s name changed to Yuoshichi, and he forgot his old life and classmates and what had happened in the quarantine zone.
But he could never forget the terrible, gnawing hunger he’d felt after the Great Fire no matter how much synthetic meat he ate.
Translator's Notes
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