Title: Finery
Author: jordannamorgan
Fandom: Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress
Characters: Kajika, Takumi, Ikoma.
Setting: Early in episode 7.
Rating: G.
Length: 687 words.
Summary: Kajika’s plans for some leftover clothing are memorably diverted.
Notes: Been sick all week (migraine/headcold) and intermittently crying over a favorite voice actor's cancer diagnosis. I'm too groggy to be at my best, but I needed something light and fluffy to cheer myself up, so here it be.



“What about this one?” Kajika asked hesitantly, holding up a slightly rumpled silk garment.

Takumi rubbed his jaw fretfully, his expression barely short of a cringe.

“…It’s pink.”

The Kotetsujo had just arrived at Shitori Station a short while ago. For many of the women aboard, access to a safe, inhabited town meant the first order of business was attending to some long-overdue washing—and Kajika was no exception. After cleaning the clothes of the orphans she cared for, she took it upon herself to gather up any spare clothing that had belonged to passengers killed by the Kabane in the mountains. It was a somber task that no one had either the heart or the time for until now; but when it was a struggle to obtain enough basic necessities, they couldn’t just let decent goods go to waste forever. Kajika figured that once the clothes were cleaned, most of them could be sold to help buy food and other more urgent supplies.

However, after she had the garments washed and hung up to dry, she was unexpectedly descended upon by townsfolk looking to claim them instead. Not that she could blame anyone: many people had escaped Aragane Station with nothing but the clothes on their backs, which they’d been wearing ever since. Giving up her hopes of adding money to their shopping fund, she reluctantly let them pick through the selection and take one item per person.

By the time Takumi got away from making supply lists with the other steamsmiths and came puffing up to her, there was little left. He’d found a dark gray kimono that suited his stocky frame well enough—but choosing something for his best friend was proving to be another matter.

“Well, it’s… purple and pink?” Kajika corrected him optimistically, pointing to the pale-violet upper half of the delicately shaded silk. “It is a women’s kimono, after all.”

“You can’t give that to a guy!” Takumi objected.

“I’m sorry—but look around! Except for this, all I have left are a couple of really big men’s kimonos that he’d disappear in, because he’s so skinny.”

“It’s not like that’s his fault.”

Kajika looked pointedly at her friend.

“…Okay, so it might be partly his fault for never eating right even before. But come on! Can’t you just take in one of those big ones to make it fit him or something?”

“Maybe later I could, but I don’t have time today! Miss Ayame asked me to handle the shopping for food and medicine.” Kajika shrugged helplessly. “If you really want him to have something new to wear around the station now, I’m afraid this is the only choice.”

Takumi’s shoulders slumped. “Oh, fiiine—but would you give it to him instead? It’ll look less dumb if it comes from you.”

Cracking a smile, Kajika draped the kimono over her arm, and followed Takumi up to the locomotive of the Kotetsujo.

That was where they found Ikoma. He was deep in negotiating a budget for repair parts with Miss Ayame and Kurusu, but he looked up with a smile as his two closest friends entered the map room.

“Hey guys. Almost ready to go into town?”

“We are—but you’re not.” Takumi frowned at the simple gray shirt Ikoma had been wearing in lieu of a full uniform, now unspokenly—but perhaps still just a little painfully—set apart in the people’s minds as something other than just another steamsmith. “This is kind of an occasion, you know. Everybody else is dressing up a little if they can, and… well, I just thought—”

“Here,” Kajika said bluntly with a wincing grin, pushing the bundle of pink-and-violet fabric into Ikoma’s arms.

The Kabaneri blinked behind his one-lensed glasses. He slowly unfurled the kimono and stared in wonder, running his hand across it to feel the softness of the silk and the fine tight stitching. “…This is for me?”

Kajika and Takumi both nodded; and from the abrupt beaming smile that spilled across Ikoma’s face, it was clear that the color of their gift to him had never mattered at all.

---

2022 Jordanna Morgan