Rain Stone
A Kara no Kyoukai fanfiction
Prologue
Late November. The first days of winter. Mifune.
Hazy, pallid, the rusty street lamp in the corner of the room flickered weakly as it stood alone under the heavens, which was laced with rain, with the storm hovering above the city only to relieve itself of its burden. The yellow ambient glow of the million offices in the CBD skyscrapers shone into the bottom of the low-hung clouds, only to have its insubstantial brilliance reflected and casted back onto the city in a double sheen of golden gloom. Standing under the same sky, the mouldy rooftops of dilapidated buildings, the façade of apartment complexes infested with air conditioners, and the crow’s-nest tangles of electrical wires of Mifune were all imbued in this borrowed shine from the Babels of modern men. This light of innovation, of advancement, of humanity – though it strove to penetrate the eternal unknown that taunted and haunted us for thousands of years, all it managed was to make men forget the truth of the endless night, to deny them of the primeval reverence and fear for the darkness.
For in this humid, chilly darkness – in a certain ignored, overlooked building – a miracle that transcended all of humanity was being born.
‘Birth’ was not the word to describe the process occurring in this dank workshop, illuminated only by the merciless lights of surgical lamps. What was being ‘born’ did not come from the void of the beyond, and perhaps it would never return there. Caught halfway on its journey back to oblivion, it was halted, stalled, and sank into a new vessel under the hands of a most expert midwife. A woman whom, perhaps, was no longer human herself.
The flesh twitched and shuddered as the soul fought for control over the emptiness that dominated the shell, uttering short gasps of pain and freedom that seemed to echo amongst the dolls who gazed lifelessly down at it. The room was littered with the rest of her children, their bodies hanging oblivious, never to draw a breath. But this one – this experiment – was different. Even as it writhed, jolted, and had its limbs tangled in a sea of spasms – it was alive. And that alone was success.
“… is it done, Touko-san?”
The newborn body now laid quiet and still, the even rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life. With a piece of blanket as his only garment, this being just been given life might as well be the same as his brethrens hanging off the walls, still an empty vessel waiting to be filled.
His builder, weaver, and creator, allowed a small satisfied grin to creep up her lips.
“It is done, Mikiya. Come and have a look.”
With reluctance, the only human being in the room lifted himself off the wall and slowed approached the table in the middle of the workshop, his blue eyes narrowed in caution. Gently, his weary steps reverberated in the large chamber, sounding like the jealous murmurs of the hundreds of other dolls who were not chosen to be given life.
“Sorry to interrupt your plans with Shiki, Mikiya.” Stepping back from the miracle that had just been created within her own hands, she moved away to behold the doll – no, the man – in his full glory. “I need you here to talk things through with him. Azaka would have been the alternative choice, but I thought you’d be better.”
He gazed down upon the face of the man lying on the table, that childish and yet resolute face that had briefly met him on that similarly dark night. He was not there to see its end, but there should have been nothing left – nor even a morsel left for even the most diligent of vultures to pounce upon.
“Touko-san… I still can’t believe how you managed to –”
“I salvaged as much as I could, but yes, I didn’t think I’d succeed either.” Taking out her lighter and a cigarette, she lit it and took in a deep, full breath. “Araya Souren isn’t to be underestimated. To think that this much would have remained for me to re-connect him… heh, a most surprising success.”
Leaning close now, she bent down, and blew out a waft of smoke over her creation’s face. As if feeling the discomfort, the body cringed, screwed up his face, and his eyelids fluttered.
“Once he wakes up, I hope you can spend some time with him, explaining things through.” Keeping her eyes on the doll’s face, she furrowed her brows as the doll’s eyelids twitched even more, threatening to open at any moment. “I’d hate to see this wonderful experimental result ruined because of mental trauma.”
And in the ominous lullaby of the unending rain outside, under the careful gazes of the two standing sentinel in the workshop, the boy lying on the table finally opened his eyes. His lungs creaked as his new body took its first conscious breath, the sterile light of the lamps painful of his fresh nerves. As his mind emerged from the wrecked remains of his last moments on earth, what he beheld was not the final scene in that hellish hallway – but the silhouette of two who loomed over him. Instinctively, he raised his arms to shield his eyes from the piercing light, turning his neck sideways with an anguished groan.
“Excellent.” His maker puffed out another mouthful of smoke, the gratifying smile evident on her face. “My skills are better than I thought. Get up, Enjou Tomoe. You have a job to do.”
This is just a small side project that I'm doing, with shorter chapters and - hopefully - more frequent updates.
As for what the story would entail - allow me to keep that in the dark a little longer. One thing though, this will mainly focus on Asagami and Enjou, two characters that I believe have had their potentials largely ignored.
A man who has been brought back from the dead as a doll, and a woman who has been turned into a doll through the cruelties of this world - where to shall their path lead?
We shall see.
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Originally Posted by Komrade Kwestions
