In the opening hour of the trip, Koretsune suggested twice that the party make a detour to Hiroshima. There, they could inform Tomokore of where they were going, and take a helicopter or airship from Hiroshima directly to Edo. It would save on travel time, and keep their master in the loop.

  Koromi however was fairly certain that if she were to appear before her husband in Hiroshima, unannounced and uninvited, in the halls of his family, he would not be as understanding as Koretsune hoped. She would surely be shepherded about the Hiroshima castle halls under armed guard to ensure she met all of her many in-laws and partial cousins, while being told her mission was foolhardy and ill-advised.

  Thus it was to Kyoto first, to the east, bypassing Hiroshima altogether.

  Japan’s landscape had shifted drastically over the last century, as industrialization hit new peaks and technology began to develop at a frankly obscene rate. Signs of this were present in how many cities had popped up for one use or another, and how littered the countryside was with signs of this industrialization.

  VTOL airships carrying building materials from one city or another pockmarked the heavens, splitting open the cloud layer with huge bundles of steel sling-loaded beneath them. They were barely visible in the dark of night, silhouetted by a full moon that roared through the cloud layer once the rain had ended.

  Bureau constructs – humanoid machines so large they made a normal human look like an ant – wandered the lowlands, assembling structures like building blocks, moving segments of roadway and infrastructure by hand. They travelled huge, flattened corridors, so their heavy footfalls would not obliterate all that fell beneath them.

  Farms and ranches they passed by were largely standardized, set into blocks of land and carefully maintained by the families who had owned them for decades. Winding wasabi farms, rolling hills of tea plants, dense fruit orchards, waterlogged rice fields and tall fields of wheat. Towering vertical farms for mass growth and gathering. Slowly rotating wind power plants atop great hills.

  Few cars travelled these roads, for while the concrete paths did exist solely for them, ground travel was generally reserved for cargo or worker transit, and at this late hour few were working. Some vehicles did pass by, logistical trucks and the occasional transportation bus, but for most of the early journey the car passed through the landscape undisturbed and alone.

  Within its interior, Koromi slowly got more comfortable with her new companions. Kesa was huge, to be sure, but she was also quiet. Rarely did she speak, even when given permission, though Koromi did not know if that was from a truly silent personality or fear of offending one of the two nobles in the car.

  Akimo spoke sparingly, careful not to overshare but eager to engage. He and Koretsune had an idle chat in the front seat, after Koretsune commented on an apple orchard.

  “Imagine toiling in those shadows all day.” He said, “The air must smell sweet, at least.”

  Akimo, hands on the steering wheel and eyes on the road, smiled as if reminiscing, “My family owns a peach orchard, my Lord. Near Masuda.”

  Koretsune didn’t immediately reply, perhaps surprised the commoner had dared speak aloud, though after some silence in which Koromi nearly spoke up, he finally asked, “And your eyes did not suffer from hiding in the dark beneath the branches?”

  “No, my Lord. In fact, Lady Sun has a habit of peaking through the leaves at just the right angle to frequently and effectively strike a farmer in the eyes.” He chuckled, and it tripped an amused snort from Koretsune. Koromi smiled softly, having never seen her assigned protector enjoy himself in any similar capacity. In fact, she had thought him incapable of joy until that point.

  Three hours into the trip, the twinkling lights of Tsuyama came into view as the car rolled up and over a hill. While it may have once been a town the same as any other, in the modern Shogunate most major cities had some sort of designated ‘purpose’ bestowed upon them by the Shogun. Tsuyama was no exception, and its glorious purpose was that of storage.

  Skyscraper-sized blocks of shipping containers in steel rigging towered over the city, with blinking hazard lights atop them so aircraft didn’t collide with them. No less than six of the Bureau constructs sat lifeless at the city’s edge, curled up with their knees against their chests, hugging their legs, heads bowed. Even at night, even in the aftermath of harsh rains, Shinto priests wandered the mud beneath their feet, issuing prayers and blessings to the mighty metal men.

  Vault towers suspended spherical safe vaults a hundred meters wide over X-shaped support stilts, which held valuables of various noble families. Trains ran in and out of Tsuyama at all hours of the day, billowing white smoke into the air over them as they entered or departed vast railyards. Their cars loaded down with cargo containers, open boxes of ore, and grain crates. Flatbeds with raw materials stacked high and secured tightly down rattled uncomfortably as the car passed them on the trackside road.

  There was a certain inherent fear Koromi had of ‘huge’ things. It was an unfortunate fear to have, given how frequently the Shogunate liked to build tall. Towering skyscrapers, the Bureau’s constructs, huge vehicles and even people taller than her like Kesa. She felt so puny compared to them. Insignificant.

  Hardly the emotions of a brave Samurai warrior, setting out into the world to see the sights and save her sister.

  “We could take a passenger train.” Kesa suggested, breaking the car’s silence, “That would be faster?”

  There wasn’t much confidence in her voice, and so Koromi did not object quite as strongly as she might have if Koretsune had made the suggestion. “Faster per segment,” She explained, “But we’d spend much longer at each station, waiting for the trains to be ready. The car will do fine.”

  Kesa nodded with understanding, and returned her gaze to the window. Koromi stole a few glances at her as she did. In the dim light of the car, illuminated only by the front seat’s cabin light and street lamps beyond the vehicle, there weren’t many clear pictures of her companions. She still found her eyes wandering over the Oni woman’s defined muscles, striking red hair, and exotic horns. Were all of the Oni like that? So monstrously strong, yet so oddly… handsome?

  At some point after Tsuyama, the excitement of the day had suitably waned, for four hours trapped in the car was taking its toll on the group’s legs. It was still night time, and there was still a good distance to Kyoto, but Koromi asked to pull to the roadside for a brief rest.

  They stopped near a town called Fukusaki, not far from the coastal city of Himeji. As Koromi stepped out of the vehicle to stretch her legs, she took in a deep breath of the night air. All around them, dense foliage rustled and swayed in the midnight breeze. Dark green bushes and trees, which maintained their leaves despite the frigid air.

  Slipping from the heated interior of the car into the cold night air was a bit of a shock to the bones, but it was a wake-up call Koromi had desperately needed, as her eyes had become half-lidded passing through featureless forest terrain the past half-hour.

  “How much longer to Kyoto?” Koromi asked no one specifically, though Akimo leaned his head back into the car to check the GPS. “Just under two hours, my Lady.” He said when he stood upright again.

  “Have you ever been to the library-city, Lady Oda?” Koretsune asked, and Koromi shrugged, “I have not, though I have read about it. Have you?”

  The man nodded in reply, “Only once, and only in passing. It is a maze-like place, though we should have no trouble finding a few hours of lodging to wait out the night. I can see already you tire.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Koromi scoffed, though he was right. She would normally have been asleep some time ago, and being awake at night was a peculiar thing to her. “Indeed.” She admitted, “A few hours of rest before we head for Edo would be in order.”

  They lingered by the roadside for a time, but while Koromi did desire to run and stretch her legs, the frigid year’s end air drove her back into the vehicle’s heated interior rather swiftly.

  It was back on the road then, and Koromi kept herself awake by watching distant lights on the eastern horizon. As they pushed ever onward, those lights got brighter, and each hill they passed over or mountain they rounded allowed the group to see more and more of distant Kyoto.

  Koretsune had called it the ‘Library-city’, and that was an apt description. Kyoto was charged by the Shogun with collecting, cataloguing, storing and safeguarding the Shogunate’s vast knowledge database. Not simply collecting books and digital archives, but making copies of them, copies of the copies. Learning and researching every facet of life, both in Japan and abroad, on Earth and beyond. Library after library, vast expanses of golden bookshelves and towering data centers.

  Those raised in Kyoto were often called ‘Living Encyclopedias’, for their education was often the most extensive, varied and granular in all of Japan. Generally you could ask someone from Kyoto a random bit of trivia, and they’d snap off the reply with ease, even into the obscure and strange.

  Kyoto was similar to Edo in that it was a ‘Walled City’. Strict population control ensured that only approved individuals could enter and leave, though Kyoto’s control was not as intensely strict as the capital’s.

  The closer they got, the bigger the city they got. Kyoto sat in two layers, a city atop a city, with skyscrapers acting as mere structural supports. Every brick and every tile of every building inlaid with dimly glowing, intricate carvings of written language. Murals of great people, events and battles, immortalized in stone, and backlit by golden light.

  The closer the city got, the smaller Koromi felt. “Is Edo much bigger?” She asked, almost sheepishly, as she watched the moon slowly being blotted out by the towering heights of Kyoto.

  “Edo is also a layered city.” Koretsune idly commented, unbothered by the place’s sheer scale. “But it is five layers as opposed to two. So more than double the size of Kyoto.”

  A little pang of fear rolled down Koromi’s spine, and she tried to snuff it out beneath her ideals of courage. The sky vanished as the city loomed overhead, and the car stopped at the outermost perimeter wall. An enormous wall, styled like a very steep gray slope, encompassed the winding city perimeter. Kyoto’s verticality was partially for function, and partially so as not to make the city too wide, so it might remain in its walled edges.

  The wall lacked any visible gatehouse. The road simply terminated at its edge.

  An Ashigaru in Tachibana Clan colors, white and purple, approached the driver’s side window of the car. The Ashigaru of Kyoto wore full face masks, which were featureless and white, dehumanizing them rather significantly. Various talismans of protection clung to their armor. The higher their rank, the more talismans they had. Warding off evil spirits and protecting them from harm, supposedly.

  “Identification.” The Ashigaru said once Akimo had rolled down the window. In response, Koretsune stepped out of the vehicle, affixing his swords into his sash.

  “I am Minamoto Koretsune.” He said, plucking an ID badge from a discrete pouch in his sash, tossing it across the hood of the car to the Ashigaru, who caught it deftly. Koromi wondered how he could see so well out of that mask, which had no holes for his eyes.

  The Ashigaru looked over the ID. Usually, merely seeing a Samurai’s matched swords and hearing their family name was enough to get them anywhere they pleased. Access to walled cities like Kyoto and Edo however was much harder.

  The Ashigaru rounded the car to bow to Koretsune, “Apologies for the misunderstanding, my Lord. We do not usually receive Samurai by car.” He handed the ID back, and Koretsune tucked it away.

  “We will be here for no more than ten hours.” Koretsune said, though Koromi hoped it would be far less than that, given the urgency of her quest. “A stop on the journey. We have need of lodgings, food and fuel.”

  The Ashigaru slowly rose to stand straight again, and turned to wave toward the wall. The perimeter wall abruptly segmented along a seam, and slowly parted from there, revealing the actual way in. A trio of Ashigaru soldiers came jogging out, and exchanged brief glances with their unit leader, who was the one Koretsune had spoken to.

  Though they did not audibly speak, Koromi surmised they were likely communicating in some fashion. Perhaps the masks muffled their voices to the outside world when desired enough that they could speak over a radio built within? Or they had such a mastery of body language understanding that no words were needed. A mystery for another time.

  When the unit leader returned his focus to Koretsune, he bowed again. “These men shall guide you to the traveler’s inn and inform Lord Tachibana of your arrival.”

  “Good.” Koretsune said flatly, and got back in the car. Cold air from the rolled down window and opened door had seeped into the vehicle, chilling Koromi’s bones in a strange sickly-sweet mix with the car’s heater.

  That feeling blessedly began to dissipate as both entrances were sealed, and Akimo slowly rolled the car forth to follow the three Ashigaru guides, who jogged at the roadside.

  Beyond the perimeter wall gateway, which steadily sealed itself shut behind them, a few other checkpoints were present. Likely for ground vehicle shipments, cargo and other forms of freight. The samurai skipped them all, taking a side path the Ashigaru led them down.

  The sky vanished above them, swallowed up by the underside of Kyoto’s second layer. The huge city-plate containing untold millions of people. Curious onlookers watched as the Samurai sports car passed them by, and Koromi hazarded a small wave to a group of children dressed in light violet robes that waved at the passing car.

  It was easy to see that those lower areas of Kyoto weren’t strictly made for Samurai. Ordinarily, Samurai would arrive in Kyoto by train, helicopter or airship. Driving through those industrial areas, packed with curious workers and toiling automatons, standing in the shadows of gigantic machines of unknown use that never slept. It was enough to fill the heart with wonder for their lives and purpose. How much simpler and care-free they must be.

  The car stopped on a broad elevator off the main road some distance away. The Ashigaru outside raised fences around the platform’s edges, then secured the car’s tires to the steel floor. Once the process was complete, they threw a lever, and the platform began to ascend.

  As it did so, Koromi looked out across the undercity. It was lit, sparingly, by those glowing ornate carvings set into every building’s edge, as well as huge sun lamps on the underside of the second layer’s plate. Though since it was night, the lamps were very dim, providing only basic lighting to the masses below, to ‘simulate’ night.

  Vertical farms would leech off that artificial light, providing food to the city. They rose above statues of great Samurai from history, cube-shaped data centers packed with digital knowledge, and ornate vaults of traditional books, scrolls and other tomes.

  The view ended as the elevator’s chains pulled it up into a closed-off shaft, and finally stopped on a new raised section of the city. Not quite the upper plate, but well above the commoners below. The tires were unsecured from the elevator and the fences lowered so the car could roll on, where it finally stopped before the traveler’s inn.

  That area of the city was entirely enclosed, and Koromi could see no signs of true nature or the world beyond in any direction. Kilometer-high bookshelves tended to by balcony platforms and hovering automatons formed walls, that same golden backlight behind each.

  The traveler’s inn took the form of a broad, elevated wooden structure with a tile sloped rooftop. At its crest, a gnarled bonsai tree many meters tall was growing out of an affixed garden plot set into the structure’s roof. The deep orange leaves on it caught the golden light from its surroundings beautifully, and bathed the entire area, which seemed dedicated to the inn, in that same golden light.

  Dismounting the car at last as it stopped in front of the inn, the small party of four at last took some minutes to stretch.

  Kesa leaned back, her back popping with a series of distinct cracks, the loud noise making her blush in embarrassment, though Koromi matched them by bending forward to arch her back, a dull pop in her lower back sounding off. The car was comfortable, but there was only so much the nice seats could do after hours of sitting.

  “Separate rooms?” One of the attending Ashigaru asked. “Yes,” Koromi replied, offering the soldier a polite bow, “Ensure our Ashigaru receive every nicety which you would provide me.” Koromi requested, but could read no puzzlement or awe in the soldier’s face thanks to that featureless mask.

  Casting her gaze to Koretsune, Koromi clarified their stay, “I will bathe and then rest. We will leave within six hours.” She commanded, stressing the ‘within’ part.

  Koretsune made no move to acknowledge the command besides an idle hum, and gestured for Koromi to go ahead.

  Furrowing her brow, Koromi considered the idea of trying to ditch him… Leaving earlier than she planned, sneaking out with Kesa and Akimo. But he’d just follow them, and do so angrily. The rest would help her mind at least.

  Just a few hours, and they’d be back on the road.