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It’s another very normal, boring day aboard the Astral Express. Or at least, as boring as it can get after a reality-shattering life-changing fight on the Planet of Festivities, followed by a ship-wide search for hundreds of bombs. Which is to say, it is less so boring and more so tense; an eerie quiet haunts the Express, even after the crew had claimed victory. Everyone seems to be a little on edge.
Everyone, that is, except for the one and only March 7th, who is currently on a very important self-assigned mission.
March, much like Himeko, is remarkably perceptive, even if most may not notice it at first. She takes note of every individual thing in her life, no matter how small— because as far as her memory is concerned, this is her first life. She's starting all over again and every detail of every person, place, and thing is all equally important to her. Combined with her boundless curiosity, the result ended in her growing to understand the subtleties and unique facets of all of the Nameless rapidly after melting from the Six-Phased ice.
The main crew member in question this evening is Dan Heng, whom March believes she has almost entirely figured out by now. She's sure he's still got plenty of his own secrets hidden away, but she has also realized that he is much easier to read than how he comes off at first, and she's certain she's got the strategies on lockdown for how to handle him on his off days.
And if March had observed correctly, today seems to be a little more than just an off day.
Dan Heng never quite stated it directly, but in the aftermath of battles he often found himself in some sort of bodily pain; not only from the injuries of the fight itself, but as a consequence of some kind of physical condition on his part. It confused her at first, but March had put two and two together after the events of the Xianzhou Luofu and came to the conclusion (or a theory, anyway) that actively concealing his Vidyadhara form and suppressing his powers resulted in a great deal of chronic pain, given the constant effort it required to do both things. The powers of the high elder do not enjoy being stifled, and neither does the dragon. The smaller battles following their departure from the Luofu only served to confirm her suspicions, even more so when he would poorly attempt to hide how bad the strain was from Welt or Himeko (in which after too many failures he began to hide in his room instead of allowing anyone to see him).
(She constantly resists the urge to tell him it would be so much easier to just use his full powers in every fight. But she knows he's stubborn, and he'll stay true to himself no matter the pain.)
So, upon returning to the Astral Express after saying all their goodbyes on Penacony, March had kept a careful eye on Dan Heng. He had seemed quite normal at first—so much so that he had actually made a sarcastic remark or two—and even remained fine when Black Swan appeared out of nowhere to give them a destination to set course to, not bristling too visibly when she referred to him as “little dragon”. It was only the next day when March noticed him beginning to sequester himself again.
Whenever she saw him, she kept up the jokes and jabs, trying as she always does to keep things somewhat positive, but he hadn't returned her banter as he usually did. He would give flat or dry responses that didn't nearly match her energy and reminded her of when she was first trying to make friends with him. It felt strange and out of character considering how he'd been a little lighter the last few weeks. At dinner, he had stayed quiet until bidding the crew good night and swiftly retreating to the archives— to where the entire morning after he continued to stay, skipping breakfast and keeping his door shut.
All of that would be typical Dan Heng behavior on its own, but it was all accompanied by other small factors. He had looked visibly stiff and uncomfortable, had barely eaten while they were at dinner, and hadn’t been able to carry a box of files from the storage car without a fair amount of struggle, when he’d usually have no problem at all. After putting it all together, it had all been spelled out clear as day to March: fighting against Sunday while actively suppressing his Vidyadhara magic had left him in a lot of pain, and he was trying to ignore it.
Well! That's not gonna happen!
March strides over to Dan Heng’s door and gives it a knock. There’s no response, which she takes to mean that he’s either asleep—though it’s the middle of the afternoon, so he should be awake—or he’s chosen to ignore her. Both potential scenarios tell her that it’s fine to come in, since she’s barged in on him at countless similar times anyway; he never seems to truly mind her constant presence despite his attempts to pretend otherwise. She gives the door one more warning knock before sliding it open (and silently notes to herself with a smile how he keeps it unlocked more and more often these days).
“Heeeyyy, Dan Heng!” March beams from the doorway, and she squints in exaggerated fashion to see him slouched over his desk, looking unusually tense and very still. “Whatcha up to? Translating more stuff? Or something new?”
Dan Heng turns his head only slightly in the direction of her voice. He makes an annoyed-sounding grunt before turning back to his work.
March huffs. Okay, rude… So he’s being that stubborn. But that can’t stop me!
“You mind if I hang out in here? Stelle is still asleep somehow, and Mr. Yang and Himeko are busy with icky Penacony finance stuff. It's soooo boring today.” It is obvious to both March and Dan Heng that her request is an excuse, and a poor one at that, but it’s not as though Dan Heng could prove it (and nor does he have the energy to put up a fight about keeping her out).
After a brief moment of thought, Dan Heng makes a noncommittal hum. Not approval, but not denial either. He doesn't look away from the papers on his desk. March sees this as a victory, and gives him a wide grin. Or the back of his head, anyway. Now that she knows he's not kicking her out, the rest of her mission has become easy.
March knows that the best way to get Dan Heng to do something is to simply present the option to him and allow him to choose it himself. So in practiced fashion, she walks over to his mattress, sits herself down cross-legged, places the pillow on her lap, and waits. She's done this countless times before. She stays quiet and patient, watching as Dan Heng pushes onward in his scribbling for as long as he can before his shoulders start to slump and his hands begin to tremble— to which the young man no longer has the willpower or stamina to continue, and he stands up from his chair for only long enough to stagger over to his bed. Once there, he all but crumples onto the floor on his side, resigning himself to exhaustion and sinking into the mattress with a muted thud and a quiet groan of pain.
March can't help but let out a tiny giggle at her own genius strategy working yet again. Clearly her hypothesis had been right. Another score for March 7th. Onto the next step.
Carefully, she shifts herself closer so that his head is more comfortably resting on the pillow in her lap, and she reaches over just enough to snag the edges of his comforter, pulling it over his shoulders. She then retracts her hands and allows him to readjust himself; the blanket scrunches up where he bends his knees and curls his legs up closer to his chest, akin to a fetal position. He turns his face into the pillow with another small groan.
“I told you like a million times, Mr. Yang probably has some sort of painkillers. Or Pom-Pom. You gotta ask eventually.” March comments. She brushes a hand through his hair..
“.. it’s fine. It'll– it'll pass.” He grits out, and curls in on himself further at another visible crest of pain.
“It could pass faster. Just saying.”
Dan Heng doesn't say anything to that. He clenches his fists under the covers and does his best to stay completely silent.
Trying to pretend it's not so bad even when you've already accepted it. Stubborn Dan Heng…
March doesn't hold it against Dan Heng for being so obstinate, though. Deep down, she understands that Dan Heng only wants to feel safe, and that any sort of vulnerability is still difficult for him at times. He can be hesitant, and flighty, and vigilant out of an instinctual self-preservation— but if given the right circumstance and treated with the sort of kindness he unconsciously seeks, he won't flee. The sheer fact that he has been allowing her to help him in these unguarded moments is a testament to how much he feels safe and trusts her.
(And, of course, a testament to her observational skills as well. Go March 7th!)
Dan Heng lets out a short gasp, which he audibly and unsuccessfully tries to stifle. March frowns down at him and sighs. Maybe he’ll be more cooperative than usual this time, if it hurts so badly. She offers the simple question, “Where?”
There’s a pause. Then another sharp gasp, and he replies, “...Chest. And head— hurts,” muffled by his face being half-shoved into the pillow.
March hums, already lifting her hands and summoning frost to her palms. “Thank you~”
With a feather light touch, March leans over enough to bring her hands down and places one on Dan Heng’s chest, the other gently on his forehead over his eyes. She can feel him trembling, and another shudder runs through his body as she manifests more cold at her fingertips. Her ice powers can’t be used for pure healing, but she has discovered ways to use it that help heal more indirectly. In this case, the cold helps to numb where the pain is most heavily concentrated— and as an aside, March knows that Dan Heng finds some comfort in colder temperatures, so it aids in de-stressing him a little as well.
March notices his breathing is still unsteady, his mouth pressed into a firm line out of discomfort, so she takes that as a sign to make it a little colder, and lowers the temperature further in her hands. There’s a quiet whimper from him as she does so, and his body tenses up to brace against that invisible pain again. Clearly he had been ignoring the aches for longer than usual. It doesn't typically take this much exposure to cold, or at least it hadn't the last few times. How can he be so smart, but so stupid…
With a practiced caution, she presses her hands down just slightly further down over his chest and eyes; she had barely been touching them before, moreso hovering, so only now are her hands fully down. From there she doesn't move, only allowing the cold to circulate through his body, and it isn’t long before the pain in his face fades away into relief, chased off by a chill that is numbing in all the most positive ways. The tension progressively melts from his muscles as the seconds tick by, and his expression relaxes into something much more fitting: neutral, but exhausted, and soft in a way that March finds adorable but knows he'd get annoyed at her for mentioning.
“Aaaand there. Is that better?” And wasn't that so much easier? She stops herself from adding.
Dan Heng nods once, his head still resting on its side on the pillow. He sighs out a long breath of relief.
March smiles down at him. “Good! Took long enough, with you being so stubborn,” she can't help but say and render her self-control moments earlier absolutely pointless. But there's enough of a teasing tone in her voice that Dan Heng shouldn't take it too seriously.
Still, in response, there's only an irritated grunt, followed by him mumbling something completely inaudible to her.
“Sorry, what was that? You’re gonna have to speak up~” March exaggeratedly holds up a hand to her ear with a giggle, leaning down closer to him.
Dan Heng does not repeat what he had said. March pouts. The hand she had lifted was previously covering his eyes, and as she looks down at him she notices they are still closed. His chest rises and falls slowly from where her other hand remains placed atop it, maintaining a chill that is not as cold as earlier, but enough to keep the pain from coming back. If March didn’t have her hand there, she would hardly be able to tell he was breathing at all; she swears his light huffs are almost completely silent, against the rhythmic whirs and clicks of the data bank around them.
March peers down closer at him. He sure fell asleep fast… She smiles a little to herself—partially out of pride that her strategy continues to work—and makes an amused huff at his peaceful expression, sound asleep. She’s glad he’s already feeling better. Clearly he had been exhausted if all it took was the pain going away for him to pass out immediately. Didn’t even make time for banter.
It would be easier if he went and asked for help at times like this, instead of waiting for when the aches are at their worst. But it’s still progress that he lets her barge in and help, so she doesn’t pry any further than that. She knows he’ll open himself up more when he’s ready. It’s been this way ever since they first became friends— no matter how curious she gets, she does her best to go at his pace. And that’s what makes moments like this all the more special. It’s proof of how far he’s come on his own accord.
The sensation (or lack thereof) of her legs having fallen asleep under the pillow draws her out of her thoughts. She knows that Dan Heng is an incredibly light sleeper, and she would rather not disturb him, but she can’t just sit here all afternoon… A pretty girl like her has to let her body rest too!
Then in an instant she crafts up the perfect plan, and pats herself on the back for the genius of it—though truthfully, she is more excited that she finally has an excuse to do this. Dan Heng is always trying to avoid sleepovers, but this time, it makes the most sense for her to stay. After all, she has to make sure he doesn’t wake up in pain again, right? He’ll still need her to stick around for the cold. March 7th, the intellectual that you are!
Carefully, she scoots back enough to lower the pillow down to the ground with Dan Heng’s head still on it. Then she unhooks her camera from her belt before wiggling herself underneath the comforter next to him, laying comfily along the mattress (or as comfy as a mattress on the floor could be, anyway) and snags an extra pillow to put her own head on. She positions herself so she’s a little further up than him, and almost immediately she finds a pair of arms tugging her closer before she can attempt to do the same.
Dan Heng burrows his face in the pillow space by the crook of March’s neck, mumbling something about cold in the midst of his sleep. All of the tension that yet remained in his body seems to have finally drained away. March hides a giggle and resists the urge to grab her phone to take a photo, settling for simply wrapping an arm around him, gently ruffling her fingers through his hair. She keeps her body temperature cold so he can stay comfortable. He sighs with contentment.
She’s glad that he can allow himself to feel vulnerable like this sometimes— even if it feels like it takes a million years and for him to be in debilitating pain to convince him to get there. March remembers waking up from the ice and trying to befriend him, but to mostly no avail. She recalls how Himeko and Mr. Yang always seemed to know how to talk to him, how to calm him down when he had strange episodes that she didn’t know the source of, and how to convince him to come out of the archives for at least dinner. They’d both told her, “Dan Heng will warm up to you. Just give him some time.”
At the time, she had simply thought well, why is that time taking so long? What about me isn’t amazing to talk to?
But she had taken their advice, and took to observing him instead, waiting for him to make the first move instead of running in to interrupt whatever he was working on. And sure enough, over the course of the next few weeks, he would approach her with something brief to speak about. It had mostly been data bank related, but he’d offer her information on the best ways to take photos, other types of bows she could test out, and even potential places she could come from, once he’d learned more about her personality.
It had been very rewarding to her. Her patience paid off, and she had gained what she saw as a new friend. He would even allow her to hang out in the archives sometimes if she didn’t make too much noise. And then she began to jump on every opportunity to question him endlessly for the rest of their friendship as soon as he had let her in, and he had no choice but to keep her around.
(March knows he isn’t just “keeping her around” though. She sees the little smiles he attempts to hide when he turns his head away from another one of her horrible quips.)
They are two sides of the same coin. Dan Heng runs from a past forever bound to him, grasping for his life at the freedom the future holds; March turns her attention toward the past, searching for what her life had been like before being frozen, and where she could be now if she knew who she was. Dan Heng helps her in his kind and level-headed assurances, telling her he’s confident they’ll come across the source of her memories in their travels, and he’ll always keep tabs open in the data bank for her. March helps in that with every passing day she finds some way to keep him rooted in the present, even if it’s only by asking him to pose for a photo or talking to him about which of Pom-Pom’s dinners they like the best, uplifting his sense of identity as Dan Heng and no one else.
They complement one another, and March thinks that is perfect. She wouldn’t ask for anything else. To each other, they are both an important part of what makes the Astral Express home.
Dan Heng snores softly. March hums at him with a little smile on her face. Adorable. Hm… Surely he wouldn’t mind me taking just one photo, right?
She decides to cede to the temptation and grabs her camera, sitting right next to the mattress, and turns the flash off before leaning in closer to Dan Heng. She angles it so the viewer could perfectly see the rarely-softened expression on his face and clicks the trigger. The camera lenses shutters quietly and prints out a polaroid, which she slides across the floor away from the mattress to process.
Finally, she turns back around, and wraps her arms around Dan Heng again, who has not stopped clinging to her. With a content sigh of her own, she raises a hand to resume brushing her fingers through his hair, closing her eyes. She might as well sleep too, if she’s going to be in here until he wakes up. Stelle did keep us up all night playing that strange old cart racing game she found in the dumpster…
Soon enough, March is drifting off to sleep after Dan Heng. She pulls him ever so slightly closer, one of her legs dragging over his under the blanket, kicking up the edge of it and letting in more cold air. They are tangled, but it’s comfortable, and familiar.
She briefly thinks about the photo, and knows that when he wakes up, he’ll most certainly ask her to get rid of it. And she will. She never likes throwing out photos, out of fear that anything she fails to document will be forgotten— but this photo had been taken merely for the enjoyment of getting to see his face tomorrow when he finds out about it. It’ll be a funny conversation, and she knows he’s going to be awkward about thanking her for helping him, so it gives him an easy lead-in to talk about it.
For her, with him, there’s never any kind of fear of forgetting. She doesn’t need any kind of photo to remember moments like these.
Whatever memories she finds herself with in the future, she hopes they live up to that same level of love.