Chapter Text
i.
As March 7th led the way to the Express's second floor storage room in the Party Car, the thought suddenly occurred to Stelle that the young and spirited pink-haired girl in front of her had more words than she was capable of fitting into her mouth.
It didn't help the fact that the prospect of having a new crew member was clearly more than she could handle at the moment. It only took a few consensual selfies ("I can't believe that I finally, finally, finally have a junior!"), some very questionable origin stories ("Pray that you never have to wake up naked in front of complete strangers after defrosting..."), and a couple of unplanned mishaps for March 7th to fully tire out all conversation starters and proceed with her self-proclaimed premium VIP exclusive Express tour.
"Premium exclusive Express tour, my foot," Pom-Pom huffed under their breath, before Stelle was dragged away. "The only thing close to premium status here are Himeko's coffee beans... And even those taste like vomit inducing agents once she's through with them."
Stelle shuddered, recalling the memory of that grueling sludge touching the tip of her taste buds on her first day at the Express. She'd woken up on the floor not long after, not knowing where she was nor what had happened. Meanwhile, March 7th had been off to the side, anxiously asking Himeko whether there was something irreparably wrong with the new recruit. Welt, on the other hand, had only cast her a worried look, asking her if she felt alright.
And Stelle, being quite sensible at the time, just kept quiet and nodded. The thought of being defeated by mere caffeine was far too shameful for her to ever admit.
"—and here's where you'll be staying!" March chirped, snapping Stelle out of her reverie as the Express's automatic compartment doors slid open to accommodate the two new arrivals. "It's not much for right now, but that's exactly how mine looked when I first got here. I wouldn't worry about it too much. It'll be plenty cozy once you start adding your own personal touches!"
As March chattered on, Stelle glanced passively around the room. It was roughly about a three-quarters the size of the parlor car, with a significantly less amount of furniture. The walls were a pale alabaster white, and the floors: a light beige brown. Cardboard boxes and storage shelves were stacked high in the corners and along the sides, and dust bunnies roamed wild and free in their natural habitat. Meanwhile, the bed was located at the right corner of the room, and the blankets covering it were stiff and rigid; completely past the point of providing any comfort if one were to choose to sleep on it.
In a nutshell, her new room looked completely devoid of any life.
"I mean, I suppose we do have a little renovating to do." March remarked, wincing at her companion's lack of enthusiasm. "Though, I'll be honest with you, I don't think anyone's used this room since the last Amber Era..."
Stelle eyed the bed warily, paying no heed to March's side commentary. Instead, she magicked out her trusty baseball bat and—
THONK!
"..."
Stelle nodded satisfactorily, completing her overall assessment. At least the floor panels looked cozier than the bed itself, since it was evident where she'd be spending the night.
March sighed, already used to Stelle's occasional (violent) baseball bat tendencies. "I'll let Pom-Pom know you need a new bed," she promised, gingerly pointing the unsheathed baseball bat away from her own body. "Try not to be too upset. Now, for the last part of the tour..."
She gestured towards a nearby door that resided next to the defective bed; with perhaps a bit more flourish than necessary. "That door... leads to your very own private bathroom!"
She paused for a few moments, awaiting some other response than just silence.
Unfortunately, Stelle (being quite socially inadept), offered no answer and patiently waited for her to continue.
March sighed for the second time since she entered the room.
"You don't talk much do you?"
"..."
"Anyway, the bathroom is where you can er... take care of your business, brush your teeth, wash your face, and shower! You know, showering? Where you use water to get all that grime off your body?"
"..."
"Oh, well, of course you know what showering is. It's not like you were born yesterday or anything, haha!"
Stelle smiled along with March's feeble chuckling and then pointed at the bathtub, looking expectantly at her new friend.
"...You want to take a bath? Now?"
Stelle nodded.
"It's 2pm."
Stelle nodded again, more insistently this time.
"Well, okay then. If you really want to. The tour's pretty much concluded anyway so I'll leave you to it! I'll lock the door for you on my way out."
Click!
The faint sounds of rushing water filled the room and March turned on her heel, eager to write a new diary entry regarding her newest (and only) junior. Although she had a tendency to stay silent, March had a feeling that with enough prodding, she'd manage to get her to come out of her shell, one way or another.
On that note...
March yanked open the bathroom door again. "Hey, Stelle, are you sure you have soap? I have some shampoo and bodywash if—"
The gray-haired girl looked up, surprised.
"..."
"..."
"Stelle! Get out of there!! You're not supposed to take a bath with your clothes on!!!"
ii.
If Dan Heng found it strange that Stelle had developed a sudden preference for wearing pink frills and bows (courtesy of March's pajamas), he didn't mention it. Instead, he merely greeted her with a small nod before returning back to the terminal to finish up on whatever he'd been working on (prior to Stelle's entrance).
Feeling slightly relieved by his lack of curiosity in her attire, Stelle ambled over towards the nearest bookshelf, running her fingers along the spines. If she wasn't mistaken, then these items were called books... though Stelle was only 60% sure. She really couldn't be certain of anything nowadays.
Coffee, a seemingly harmless substance, apparently had the capacity to render anyone unconscious — even a person containing a Stellaron in their body. And wasn't a Stellaron supposedly in one of the top 10 most deadliest things in the universe? Not to mention that one wasn't supposed to get in the bathtub fully clothed (though Stelle felt that that mishap was perfectly justified). In her defense, she'd looked over every nook and cranny in the bathroom and she hadn't spotted a single instruction manual for bathing oneself anywhere. If that was the case, then how had she been supposed to know?
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Stelle decisively pulled out one of those so-called "books" from the shelf, examining the title carefully.
Perhaps... was that an H? No, on second thought, an N looked more like it. Why were the letters so loopy? N... a... r... no, that didn't look right. It was clearly another two N's. And then a Y, maybe? Wait, did the first word really spell out Nanny?
A few moments later, Dan Heng felt a tap on his shoulder. After a slight pause, he turned around in his chair from the terminal to see Stelle holding out a book in her hands, looking down earnestly at him.
"Can you read this for me?" She asked, a look of childlike innocence settling down over her face.
"..."
"Please?"
The thought suddenly struck Dan Heng that Stelle looked more reminiscent of a young injured raccoon than that of an innocent child, like he'd originally believed. Without a second thought, he took the book from her and scanned the cover.
"...It's cursive. But the inside is regular text. You want to know the name of this book?"
Stelle nodded.
"It's called 'Parry Hotter and the Philosopher's Stone'. It's by an author who goes by the pen name: K.J. Howling."
Stelle nodded again, this time with understanding.
"What's it about?"
Dan Heng thought for a moment. "Well... the translations are a bit off because it was written in another language, but the main gist is about an orphan who defeated one of the more powerful leaders of the Denizens of Abundance; called You-Know-Who. Apparently, the Philosopher's Stone is a creation by a fictional member of the Genius Society, and that Genius's creation was rumored to rival the powers of Yaoshi. As you can probably guess, You-Know-Who wanted this power, but Parry Hotter wouldn't let him."
Dan Heng suddenly paused here, frowning.
"Parry Hotter..." he muttered under his breath, "that doesn't sound quite right. I wonder if the Synesthesia Beacon of whoever translated this was tampered...?"
Stelle (who was paying no attention to Dan Heng's pondering), gazed at the book hungrily, a new world opening up right before her eyes. All of a sudden, she wanted nothing more than to delve into the world of Parry Hotter and investigate the defeat and downfall of You-Know-Who. Stelle might've been unsure about the fatality of coffee and the deceit of bathtubs, but one thing she knew for certain: Villains must always be conquered. If Parry Hotter couldn't get the job done by the end of the book, she might have to take matters into her own hands. Justice had to be served.
"You can borrow it, you know," Dan Heng said hastily, suddenly noticing the quivering energy inside of her, threatening to burst. "Just remember to return it back here once you're done and try not to ruin any of the pages. K. J. Howling's books are one of a kind; most people would kill just to—"
But the doors to the Archives were already sliding shut and a gray-haired figure had long since hared out of the Passenger Cabin.
Dan Heng sighed, a small flicker of amusement crossing over his face.
And March thought she didn't know how to talk...
iii.
"Welt?"
The man in question looked up, adjusting his glasses as his gaze landed on the Express's newest recruit.
"Stelle? Can I help you with something?"
Stelle fidgeted nervously, her fingers twitching against each other as she clutched the Parry Hotter book between her arms and chest.
"...Does the Express have any flying broomsticks?"
Welt paused, furrowing his eyebrows. "Flying broomsticks?"
Stelle nodded.
"Hm. Not that I know of," he responded, seriously. "Perhaps you could ask Pom-Pom but... no, I severely doubt it. Why do you ask?"
Stelle visibly wilted. If Welt wasn't mistaken... was that disappointment on her face?
"No reason," she replied somberly. "I was just wondering."
"I see. Well, do you have any other questions?"
Stelle thought for a moment.
"Besides Himeko... is anyone else truly capable of consuming her coffee without severe side effects?"
Am I the weird one, or is it her coffee? Her face seemed to say.
Welt considered this.
"I believe Dan Heng is one of the few privy to being completely unharmed from it. He's told both me and Pom-Pom that ingesting her coffee is an excellent way of testing his grit." He chuckled.
"Some days, I doubt even the Antimatter Legion could withstand Himeko's home-brewed mix. Just goes to show you what a dangerous lady the navigator of the Express is!" Welt smiled good-naturedly. "Perhaps even Nanook himself should watch out."
Stelle paled considerably.
Even... Nanook himself...
iv.
"Don't play," said Hermyone at once.
"Say you're ill," said Wonald.
"Pretend to break your leg," Hermyone suggested.
"REALLY break your leg," said Wonald.
"You know, my version of Harry Potter looked a lot different," Himeko commented, peering at the book from over Stelle's shoulders. "He didn't go to a school for Masked Fools like this one implies, and his friends certainly weren't called Hermyone or Wonald. Are you sure you found this book in the Archives?"
Stelle nodded, her eyes still glued to the page. She didn't believe it. Parry Hotter couldn't possibly quit the Midditch game now after all this time! He was in too deep... The House Cup was on the line...
"Well, maybe this is a parody version," Himeko mused, magicking Stelle out of her suspense and back to reality. "Care for some hot chocolate?"
Tearing her eyes away from the words on the page, Stelle graciously accepted the steaming hot mug from Himeko's hands. After sniffing it tentatively (just to make sure it wasn't cleverly disguised coffee), she took a long draught, realizing with a start how parched she was. How long had she been reading for?
No matter. Within seconds, the cup had been drained and Stelle looked mournfully at the remnants of unmelted chocolate at the bottom of her mug.
"You should sleep soon," Himeko suggested, standing up with the empty tray of hot chocolate in her hands. "It's 2am, according to the Express's nightly cycle. I get that transitioning from Herta Space Station to the Astral Express might throw a wrench into your sleeping schedule, but at your age, you're going to want lots of sleep if you want to function properly. Insomnia isn't something you want to develop, trust me."
Stelle nodded solemnly, and then hesitated, her mouth parting slightly.
"...Himeko?"
"Yes?"
"...Thank you for letting me join the Astral Express."
Himeko waited a few moments, just to see if she would say anything else, but Stelle had already returned back to her quiet, mute state. The red-haired woman smiled gently.
"You're welcome," she said. "But if anything, we should be thanking you for choosing us. After all, if it hadn't been for you, that Doomsday Beast would've marked the end for Herta Space Station, and to an extent, me, March 7th, and Dan Heng. So thank you. We're glad that you're here with us."
Himeko flicked off the lights in Stelle's room, plunging it into darkness.
"Goodnight Stelle."
"...Goodnight Himeko."