Author's Note: I originally wrote this as a non fandom fiction for my Honors English class…it just seemed so Kino-esque that I had to post it. I hope you all love it…but it's probably way OOC. Review pleasies! Oh, and I apologize if it's crap. It hasn't been beta-ed with revisions…Well, it'd probably be crap anyway. No amount of amazing Turtleyness could save this thing…Enjoy!
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Leigh watched the steel alloy gates being pulled open for the first time in two years; there was a visitor. She threw the ball back to her brother, and walked toward the gates to the play-yard that their father had built for them, watching closely to see what the man looked like. There! She could just see his hat, overlapped by goggles, over the crowd of people. She pulled herself up and stood on the bottommost rung of the fence, becoming just high enough so that she could see his face. When she did so, she realized that he, in fact, was not a he. She was a rather short, tomboyish visitor, wheeling along a motorrad.
Leigh had always known whether a person is kind or not by their eyes, but at first she couldn't see hers. She was smiling so broadly at the welcome town leaders were giving her that her eyes got all crinkly, but Leigh let it go. A person able to smile that much must be kind.
"Leigh! Peter! Get inside, and don't stare," her mother had opened the window that looked out into the yard and stuck her head through. Leigh was startled by the reprimand, and quickly jumped down off the fence. In the process, the skirt of her blue dress tore. She glared at the fence before taking the ball from Peter and running inside like she was told. She managed to glance over her shoulder to see the girl smiling at her over the crowd from her place by the gate, or in her direction, at least.
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I was glad to finally find a place to rest after being turned down by country after country. I smiled politely at the gate guards when I approached and introduced myself. I leaned Hermes up against the small office before I addressed the man.
"Me and my motorrad are just staying two nights, and I have money to spend," I said, really hoping this city would work out.
"Sign here," the guard pushed a piece of paper, a quill and an inkpot towards me, but only after giving me one last askance look. I smiled in gratitude, though it seemed to not penetrate the person's robotic personality, took the quill, and filled my name in. "Kino."
As I reached forward to dip it back in the inkpot, my hand shook a little, just a little paroxysm, and I tipped the pot over, ruining the poor man's desk.
"Oh no," I shrugged my scarf off and began to mop it up immediately—it was springtime; I wouldn't need a scarf for a few months anyway—and I apologized profusely. "I am so sorry. I'll pay the damages, I promise." And then, more to myself (or Hermes, really. I try not to talk to myself), I said, "I'm such a klutz sometimes," though he obviously heard me. He stared at me in surprise, and shook his head in disbelief.
"Entirely my fault," I apologized again, as I signed where I was directed, picked Hermes up, and set off through the gates.
I walked into a frozen city. People had stopped mid-stride and mid-sentence to watch me enter as the gates opened. For a moment, I stared back, and then I smiled.
Some people smiled back, but most turned back to their stride and sentences, or turned towards home, or just scoffed. The former-most group came to greet me at the gate; they seemed to be the town leaders, or at least the most affable of the city.
It was the most isolated place I had ever been, and it was an industrial town at that, which shocked me. I have experience as far as knowing how cities work, and I have never seen an industrial town this isolated, but it was beautiful. The people were confident, and that much showed in the things they were producing. Even from my place by the gate, I could see cars, planes and other sophisticated machinery being shipped out, and then I looked at their creators with appreciation.
Fifty, maybe forty, people had surrounded me to greet me, which just reminded me how much more I appreciate small towns to large metropolises; they just feel so much more personal.
"Oh hello, darling! How special to have a traveler, isn't it, Barbara?" The large, garishly dressed woman turned to me from her shorter, equally large friend, "I'm Patricia Wilkinson, but you can call me Patricia. You just ask for me if you need anything." She was pushed out of the way as a man, who seemed to naturally take charge, addressed me.
"Welcome, welcome. I'm Trevor Dorson, president of the Industrial Society Organization. I'll be here to make your stay as pleasurable and peaceful as possible." I could tell by the way he said "peaceful" that he was a man of rules. "How long did you say you'd be staying?"
"Two nights," I replied.
"Wonderful! Three days is a nice round number. For general supplies Gleason has a convenience store on 3rd. I own a grocer's on that same street, and there's a quaint, if not slightly disused, hotel owned by the Frasers on that corner there," The man directed my attention across the square to where a small house lay, surrounded in a fenced in yard. On the fence doors were two things; one was a sign which said "Damselfly Lodge," and the other was a girl.
"They'll be glad to get some business, that's for sure." The girl stared at me, and I smiled back, but only ephemerally. For one reason or another, she retreated into the house.
"I know that look, Kino." Hermes was having the same déjà vu that I was.
"It's like Sakura (A/N: Sakura is known as Lily in the English versions of the anime and manga) again, isn't it? The dress looks exactly the same."
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Leigh's parents fidgeted constantly as soon as she came in, rambling excitedly at how mysterious the traveler was.
"I wonder where she's from," Leigh sat down at the front counter, and rested her head on her arms. "I wonder where she's been, what she's seen and who she's talked to," she sat up, and looked at her mother. "What do you think?"
"I think it'll be nice to listen to her stories," her mother bustled off, bringing linens to the room she would give the traveler when she checked in. Leigh sat down in her child-sized chair and pretended to read a book, though her mind was really wandering, wondering about the girl.
An hour and a half later, she came in, carrying two bags. One was from Dorson's, the other from Gleason's. Leigh, wide-eyed, watched her come in, wheeling the motorrad along side her before she ran off to find her mother.
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The girl was waiting just inside the door to the hotel her parents ran, and looked up at me when I came in. I put Hermes' kickstand up and turned to greet her, but she was gone. I walked to the front desk and waited.
A few moments later, a woman came down the stairs and greeted me. At her heels was the girl, still watching me.
"Welcome to the Damselfly Lodge, I'm Trix Fraser, the hotel manager, can I check you in?" Trix held a clipboard out with a form on it for me to fill out, and I noted that the paper was still warm. It must have just been printed off for me today.
"Yes, thank you," I smiled and took a pen, grateful to not have to use another inkwell. "I hope you don't mind if I bring Hermes up to my room," I gave her the form and clipboard back, and she gave her daughter a key.
"Hermes?"
"My motorrad. Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce him."
"I can introduce myself, Kino." Hermes spoke up, "Hello Mrs. Fraser. I'm Hermes."
"Why, hello Hermes." The woman looked over the desk at him. "No, I don't mind at all that he stays here. Being an industrial town, we have plenty of motorrads around. Just make sure you can manage on the stairs."
"Thanks so much," I smiled and picked up my bags.
"Leigh, dear, please show her to her room." The girl nodded and looked at me again before she turned and walked up the stairs.
"I'm sorry," Trix apologized, "She's a little shy at first."
"I understand," I smiled and picked up my things before I followed Leigh up the stairs.
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Kino and Leigh spent a lot of time together the first day of her stay. Leigh's mother and father asked her to give a her few hours to settle in, but after just half an hour in her room she dragged Hermes downstairs and began looking around at flyers for something to do in town. Leigh offered to give them a tour, and she accepted.
"Daddy says that without our machines, our city wouldn't be able to survive," Leigh found it easy to talk to Kino, especially since she talked to Leigh openly.
"But isn't it the people of the city who run and build the machines? Don't you owe it to them?" Hermes was, as usual, the first to question the customs of the country.
"No one ever takes credit, so I figure it's because the machines do it all."
"Ah, I see," They walked in silence for a few minutes, while Kino thought. "And why doesn't anyone take credit? Wouldn't you be proud if you built one of these machines?"
"I suppose so, but it couldn't be all your doing, could it? The cranes and dump trucks and bobcats do all of the real work. Same as it couldn't be your fault if you broke Hermes," Leigh and her companion continued these discussions, stopping only periodically for her to point out eminent aspects of the industry.
Leigh's parents noticed her becoming more withdrawn in the next two days, while she wasn't out with the visitor. She had always been quiet, but she used to be constantly listening. Her mother especially noted Leigh's long periods of silent thought. Her dad said it was good for the girl.
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I had been traveling since I met Hermes. After a while, I learned that three days is always the best. It almost always turns out to be the perfect amount of time to tour the city and meet the people, or, in the case that the town is generic and not many nuances exist to be studied, it's ample amount of time to stock up on supplies and earn a few pennies. This was the first time I had begun to fear that I wouldn't want to leave after just three days, but not because I loved the city so much that I wanted to stay. I was truly curious about the lack of self-credit, and I was thinking that I wouldn't be able to garner all of the information I would want. I knew for a fact that I wouldn't be leaving on the third day.
Each hour I spent with Leigh convinced me more of this, and though being just nine she didn't know much about the reasons behind her town's foibles, she would probably be the person I could learn most from. She told me that her parents had never earned any money, nor had they spent it. All labor was done by volunteers, and products at stores were traded. Art and music weren't made by people; they were made by paint brushes and instruments. Her favorite band was A Guitar, A Drum Set and A Voice on Keyboard Series Two. By late afternoon the second day my questions had grown more direct. Hermes said I should leave the poor girl alone.
"Why is it this way?"
"My mommy told me that you would ask that."
"Did she?" I was shocked. Apparently I was getting in deeper water than I had expected.
Leigh nodded, "And she told me to tell you to go to the museum when you did ask. I'll show you where it is. We'll take a shortcut."
I smiled in appreciation and followed her into the center of the town. She led me through alleys and busy streets alike until we reached a block in the road. It was roped off for construction, but none of the workers were there.
"It's just like the road blocks to not be taken down. We won't be able to make it in time for you to look before supper." Leigh was disappointed that she wouldn't be able to show me the history that she was so proud of. For a moment again, I flashed back to my memory of Sakura.
"We could go through," I suggested. All work had ceased, and no one was about to reprimand us. Not that they would consider it our fault.
Leigh thought it was a logical plan, so she led the way under the tape, around some scrap metal, and behind a dumpster. There, we met another blockade. A makeshift wall had been erected to block industrial noise from the houses beyond the wall. I found a ladder a few yards from the spot and held it while Leigh climbed up, obviously not trusting the ladder. If the flicker of doubt I had felt had come a moment sooner, then maybe we could've made it to the museum.
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I packed my bags that evening, ready to leave the hotel. I signed myself out, peeking over the counter and through the back door to see Leigh's parents grieving. Her father had been going through cycles ever since I returned with the body and news, the latter far heavier than the former. He had reached the period in which his tears dried up, and I knew the rant was coming soon. That part killed me the most, to see a grown man taking all of his rage out on a faulty ladder.
A faulty ladder. I knew it wasn't the ladder's fault. I had convinced Leigh to cut through the construction site. If we had just turned back and gone the long way after dinner the ladder joints wouldn't have broken and collapsed, sending Leigh to the ground via a smashed head on the wall. I knew that I should've been the adult and turned her around, but somehow it was so much easier to blame the ladder.
I finished signing myself out, and I walked through the streets, the long way all around, to the museum that Leigh had been so eager to show me.
I entered the museum, fully automated and barren of human life, and skipped all of the exhibits that answered the question I had asked just hours previously. I no longer cared why, just how. I wanted to move in.
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Pththt. Yea, it WAS a dud. Oh well. Review anywho?
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