Title: A Taste of Something Sweet
Author: jordannamorgan
Fandom: Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress
Characters: Ikoma and Kajika.
Setting: General.
Rating: G.
Length: 1,207 words.
Summary: Ikoma opens up to Kajika about one of the quirks of the Kabaneri.



“You really don’t have to do that,” Ikoma murmured awkwardly, watching Kajika’s nimble fingers as she sewed up a small tear in his only spare pants.

For once, Kajika wasn’t surrounded by her cluster of orphan hangers-on. One of the townsfolk was tending to them, and Mumei had gone off to amuse herself with them too. That left Ikoma and Kajika alone on the prow deck of the Kotetsujo, where the girl had come to take full advantage of the bright morning sun for her mending.

“I’m happy to do it,” she replied, glancing up at him with a warm smile. “You do so much for the rest of us, but you never take care of yourself. The least we can all do is make sure you have what you need.”

The words provoked thoughts of far more weighty and crucial needs, causing a blush to struggle its way into Ikoma’s ashen cheeks. “People already do more of that than I could ever ask for.”

She must have detected the faint note of guilt in his voice, because she looked up once more, with a mildly reproving frown. “There’s nothing for you to be ashamed of, Ikoma. The way you keep the Kotetsujo and all of us safe is more than worth—”

Her words cut off with a small stifled noise as she flinched and dropped the bundle of blue-violet fabric in her grasp. She turned her left hand over, revealing a drop of crimson that began to well up from the tip of her index finger; and Ikoma glanced away with a sudden squirm of unease.

“Oh, silly me,” Kajika muttered, half to herself. “I should have been watching what I was doing.”

“Are you okay?” the Kabaneri asked carefully, his gaze still averted.

“Of course. It’s just a tiny little jab from the needle.”

From the corner of his eye, Ikoma saw Kajika raise the finger toward her lips, as if to suck at the twinging needle-prick. In hindsight he would realize the impulse wasn’t really uncommon or abnormal for humans; but in the moment, with his own monstrous compulsions already weighing heavily on his mind, the act caused him to turn and stare at her with eyes wide behind his glasses.

Kajika must have realized what she was doing as well, because she froze abruptly, her cheeks coloring as her eyes met his.

“Oh… I’m sorry.” Quickly she lowered her finger, hiding it beneath her other hand. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to… to make you uncomfortable. Or make you worry about…”

Ikoma winced internally. It wasn’t as if the sight of one little drop of blood (or even a lot of it, given the hazardous duties he carried out) was going to make him lose his senses and hurt someone. Not as long as he remained healthy and properly nourished by donor blood. By now he had survived long enough, grown experienced enough in his needs as a Kabaneri to know that. Kajika knew it too—but she seemed unsure that he was so convinced of his own stability. Which he supposed he had only himself to blame for, after all the self-doubts he’d had occasion to struggle with, but it really wasn’t that way now.

“It’s fine,” he said quickly, forcing a smile as he fumbled for words. “After all, I just had breakfast a little while ago, so…”

That reassurance certainly came out all wrong, but Kajika seemed to understand it anyway. Her expression warmed, and she nodded.

Her gaze fell to the hand cupped over her wounded finger. After a hesitation, she slowly uncovered her fingertip with the drop of blood still resting upon it, and raised it between them.

“…You can have it if you want to?”

Ikoma’s breath caught, his eyes quickly shifting away again in spite of himself. Still, his keen vision caught the self-recriminating slump of her shoulders as she concluded she had said the wrong thing again.

“I’m sorry—”

“No.” Ikoma shook his head firmly, and met her eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You’re only being kind, showing how much you trust me like that. It’s just… the offer is a little more personal than you know.”

Her head tilted curiously. He sighed and relaxed beside her, staring at his hands where they dangled between his knees.

“I guess we haven’t talked about it. The donor blood we’re given anonymously is all the same, but if we know whose blood we’re having, it tastes… different. Depending on who it is. The way Mumei explained it, it’s what you’d call a psychosomatic response—like a kind of mental suggestion based on our image of the person.” He smiled painfully, without looking at Kajika. “I wouldn’t want you to feel weird about… well, me tasting who you are to me.”

At his side, there was silence for a long moment. Then he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and turned to see Kajika once again holding out the drop of blood on her fingertip. The smile on her lips was somber but confident.

The Kabaneri inhaled a quivering breath. Very carefully, he grasped her wrist in his left hand. The index finger of his right hand brushed lightly across the blood droplet, collecting it from her—for by no means would he dare to touch her skin with his mouth. Even if she wouldn’t mind, for him it was far too close to the thought of how the Kabane preyed on their victims.

He turned away slightly, but not enough to really hide his movements from her. Lifting his finger with the transferred blood drop, he hesitated for a moment, and at last he touched it to his tongue.

A mere flicker of salt and savor first; but then his eyes closed as he tasted the way Kajika felt to him, a curious mingling of sensation and emotion.

She tasted like caring and warmth and a little spice of stubbornness. She tasted like home.

He couldn’t have put those impressions into words for her. However, his mind did conjure a whispered memory of flavor that he could describe, woven delicately through the more tangible richness of the blood.

“I taste… something sweet.” He opened his eyes and glanced at her from beneath demurely lowered lashes, his cheeks heated to a soft pinkness. “I’m not sure I remember it exactly anymore, but maybe it’s something like the tea you used to serve all of us back in the depot at Aragane Station.”

Kajika’s nose wrinkled as she grinned at him, looking surprisingly pleased. “I could never make that tea as sweet as I wanted to, with the supply shortages and all. But still… I’m glad if I taste sweet to you.”

Somewhat ruefully, Ikoma returned the smile. “Well, maybe it’s not surprising my mind brought that up. You and Takumi were really the only good thing about my five years there.”

Gently she rubbed his shoulder, her eyes full of sympathetic fondness. “I’m glad you’ve finally found the place where you belong.”

Ikoma never would have put it together in those words himself; but now, thinking about the close-knit survivors aboard the Kotetsujo who gave of themselves for his sake, he realized it was true.

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2021 Jordanna Morgan