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When she opens her eyes, all she sees is darkness. March sighs as she sits up in bed. The clock on the wall reads 3:26 a.m. Silence reigns on the Astral Express.
“Hmm. Maybe a cup of milk will help me get back to sleep,” she muses, tapping her chin with a finger.
March gets out of bed, slips on her slippers, and heads to the door, making her way to the kitchen.
To get there, she has to pass through the Parlor Car, where Stelle is still asleep. The girl is far too lazy to tidy up her room, so she spends her nights sleeping in the Parlor Car. Every time March reminds her she has a bedroom, Stelle shrugs and says, “Oh, right. I’ll clean it up later tonight,” by the next second, she’s already forgotten about it.
March shakes her head, unable to stifle a smile, and slowly opens the door to the Parlor Car. Deep down, she admits it amusing that her girlfriend is so absent-minded, though it’s a little worrying sometimes.
Ah, right. Her girlfriend.
It still feels strange to call her that naturally.
Blushing, she closes the door behind her and takes a deep breath. Thankfully, the door doesn’t creak at all, and relief makes her exhale all the air she’d been holding. March proceeds in complete darkness, relying only on the dim glow of her phone’s screen. She doesn’t want to use the flashlight—she’d rather Stelle not notice she passed by while she sleeps… Although come to think of it, this would be the perfect time to pull a prank on her. Maybe she draws something embarrassing on her face or puts shaving cream in her hand so she can smear it all over herself. March stifles a nervous giggle as she keeps walking, waving her hand in front of her face.
‘How strange,’ she suddenly thinks to herself, ‘It’s so hot. Maybe the AC is broken again. I should tell Himeko.’ With that thought, she continues.
She reaches the door at the far end and opens it.
Beyond the Party Car, a narrow, dark hallway stretches ahead. On the left is the kitchen; on the right, there’s a small storage room where some food is kept, among other things. To her surprise, the kitchen door is slightly ajar, and light is spilling into the hallway.
Innocently, March approaches. How diligent of Pom-Pom to be working this late, March thinks. She takes a few more steps and opens the door fully when—
“Who—?”
March doesn’t respond. She’s too stunned by the sight before her.
Stelle is standing by the open fridge, a half-eaten chicken leg in one hand and her mouth full. The grease makes her lips glisten under the fridge’s white light, and the golden hue of her eyes darkens in the dim room. But that’s not the problem…
March swallows hard, trying not to stare, but it’s impossible.
The gray-haired girl isn’t wearing her usual long jacket or skirt, nor is she wearing shoes. Instead, she’s wearing a black bra. The tight fabric clings to her chest, highlighting her figure in a way March hadn’t had the chance to see before. With the baggy clothes Stelle usually wears, it’s hard to tell how toned her arms and abs are… better not even mention what else goes unnoticed under those clothes, or March might have a heart attack.
But March’s eyes keep drifting lower until—
…!
Her panties are gray with gold lace trim…
March lets out a shrill scream, her face flushing bright red. She quickly covers her eyes and spins around, but the damage is already done. She wants to scold her.
‘What the hell is she doing wandering around in her underwear? Does she have no decency?’
Still covering her eyes, March prepares to turn around and give Stelle a piece of her mind when suddenly, something pushes her from behind. Still in shock, she’s forced to walk down the hallway and ends up shoved into the small food storage room. The door closes behind her, and a hand swiftly covers her mouth. It tastes like chicken.
“Don’t make a sound,” whispers that familiar voice.
Her girlfriend wraps her arms around her, holding her in place. If it were under different circumstances, March wouldn’t mind how close they are right now. March doesn’t try to break free but moves Stelle’s hand from her mouth so she can speak.
“What the hell are you doing?!”
“Shhh!” Stelle hisses. “Pom-Pom’s outside. Do you want to get caught?”
“Isn’t it more suspicious to be hiding in here than to just be seen in the kitchen...? AND WHY THE HELL ARE YOU IN YOUR UNDERWEAR?!”
“I’m roasting in the Parlor Car.” March can’t see her face, but she hears the genuine frustration in her voice. “The AC’s busted again.”
Of course, it is… but that doesn’t justify any of this! The pink-haired girl wants to retort, but she hears small footsteps in the hallway. Soft, little steps sinking into the velvet carpet.
Instinctively, Stelle pulls her close. March gulps as she feels every muscle in Stelle’s body pressed against hers. The firmness of her bare arms… almost inversely proportional to the softness of her chest resting against March’s back.
‘No, no, no, no, no, no, no, what are you thinking?! Stop, March, focus!’
If her hands were free, she’d slap herself, but for now, she bites the inside of her cheeks. She tries to move away, but when her hands touch Stelle, she freezes. Beneath her fingers, she feels every inch of Stelle’s abs, so smooth and firm to the touch, it’s unreal. Why does she have to be so damn sexy and look so innocent at the same time?! Crap, crap, crap… March’s not sure if it’s the lack of AC or if it’s Stelle making her burn up inside. Maybe it’s both.
“C-could you stop groping me?”
March quickly pulls her hands away and squeezes her eyes shut, even though it’s ridiculous because they’re already in complete darkness. Motionless, they stay silent until the sounds outside finally stop.
Stelle lets her go, and March instinctively steps away.
“Are you okay?” Stelle’s voice is genuinely concerned.
“J-just let’s get out of here…”
March opens the door and steps out, but immediately stops.
The taller girl watches her, confused, and is taken by surprise when March suddenly turns to face her. March closes the gap between them and plants a quick kiss on her lips.
“At least put on some shorts to sleep. Goodnight.”