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It was quiet in the Parlor Car, save for the clinking noise of Himeko’s coffee cup and March meddling with her camera. It was quiet, Welt, Stelle and Dan Heng had left for an expedition to a nearby planet and should return in the next few system hours if everything went smoothly. It was quiet, until little Sunday walked in and headed straight to the two Nameless in the room.
“What does Mr Yang likes?”
Himeko looked up from her cup and eyed the kid standing in front of her, re-asking the question that had come out of his mouth. Even March had stopped what she’s doing, suddenly curious.
“Why not ask him yourself?” Himeko tilted her head, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way, but sometimes it’s best to ask a person directly for a better idea.”
Sunday shook his head, “I- I want to keep it a surprise. Father’s Day is coming up and I wanted to do something for Mr Yang-”
“Father’s day? There’s a day dedicated to fathers?” March gasped. Her reaction had caused Himeko to laugh.
“Depending on which calendar of which planet you’re looking at, Father’s Day is a thing in some places.” Himeko explained to the pink girl. She returned her attention to the boy. “If I’m not mistaken, for Penacony it’s fairly soon, isn’t it?”
Sunday nodded. “It’s tomorrow, I think. Mr Yang had taken good care of me, so I thought that…” He said, before ducking his head, his voice got softer and softer by the end of his sentence, suddenly feeling shy. His feathers are threateningly close to covering his face.
“Awww that’s cute!” March cooed when she realized what Sunday meant. “I get that! It does make sense to celebrate Mr Yang for the occasion, with how fatherly he can be around us. Especially since he has a son back in his home world.”
That last sentence… was new info for Sunday. His wings flicked when he heard that. He looked at March, face bewildered. “M- Mr Yang has a son?”
“Oh? He didn’t tell you?” March looked at the boy in disbelief. Or was she feeling guilty for saying something she shouldn't have? It didn’t stop her from continuing it, however, “Mr Yang told us that he adopted a little boy before back on his home planet, but they got separated at some point before he boarded the Express? I don’t know, Mr Yang wouldn’t go into much detail about that.”
“Must’ve been something he doesn’t like remembering if he didn’t mention it.” Himeko gave a gentle reminder to March. “Maybe it’s best we don’t bring that up, especially when he’s not around.”
“Right… he didn't look happy when I asked that last time.” March covered her mouth as if that would stop her from talking.
“Let’s get back to the matter at hand. What does Mr Yang like?” Himeko hummed as she changed the topic. “One of the obvious things would be that he likes to draw.”
Sunday can agree on that. Mr Yang always made time to draw something with him.
“He also likes robotic stuff, like that animation he made back in his home planet." March added.
“Arahato…” Sunday whispered to himself. He remembered that. Maybe he could do something based on that? He kept on listening to what Himeko and March had to say as they listed down what they think would fit as a gift for Mr Yang.
“Now all this talk makes me want to bake a special cake for Mr Yang.” March clapped her hands. She stood up from the couch and extended a hand towards Sunday. “Come on Sunday, how about you help out. You can have half the credit.”
Himeko seemed to agree. “Sounds like a great idea. Go for the traditional ones, Welt love those types of cakes.” she suggested.
“The one from the Milky Way cookbook?” March asked for a confirmation, and made a two finger saluting motion once Himeko nodded, taking it into consideration. She turned to Sunday one more time, and asked the same question.
Sunday decided to take up the offer, and let himself be pulled towards the Kitchen Car for whatever confectionery March had in mind.
—
Later that night, Sunday retreated to his room early after dinner, deciding he wanted to make a special card for Mr Yang. Mr Yang had told him how to make one before, and he’s pretty confident with his art skills since Mr Yang always praised his doodles.
So he took out the art supplies he had borrowed a few days ago and got to work at his desk.
Pick out a piece of paper and fold it in half as neatly as he could.
Select a coloured crayon of his choice and attempt to draw this Arahato on the cover of the card based on the picture Mr Yang had given him.
Once he’s satisfied with the front page, he opened up the card and picked up another colour as he decided what to fill in the inside. Since this is for Mr Yang, maybe Sunday should draw him in the middle as the focus. And Sunday wants to include himself on the card too. Maybe the rest of the Astral Express as well?
‘Pom-Pom, don’t forget Pom-Pom,’ his mind reminded him as he got to work.
As the crayon in his little hand danced across the paper, his mind started to wander. Imagining what Mr Yang’s face would look like once he gave this card to him tomorrow, along with the cake he and March had made. Would it make him smile? Laugh?
The anticipation excites him.
His mind wandered far, until it brought him back to his conversation with Miss Himeko and March.
“Mr Yang had an adopted son but they got separated.”
His hand stopped moving when he remembered what March had said. “Mr Yang had a son.” He repeated the words that replayed in his mind. He wasn’t sure why his mind decided to focus on that information all of a sudden. Mr Yang never brought that up whenever the boy was around the man, or was it unimportant for Sunday to know?
Did it hurt Mr Yang when he got separated from his son?
“He looked sad when I asked last time.”
Has Sunday ever seen Mr Yang so sad? He tried racking his memories. There were times he saw the man staring far into the sea of stars outside the window. Was he thinking of his home at those times? Like how he would think of his mom and sister when he missed them?
What does Mr Yang’s son look like? How does he behave? Does Mr Yang care for his son like how he took care of Sunday on the Express? Surely? If not, how does Mr Yang know how to handle him well, right?
To play with him.
To take care of him.
Sunday didn’t realize the crayon had dropped from his hold as he’s so deep in his thoughts. He doesn’t know anything about his birth father. His memories have only consisted of him, his sister and his mother. Even his mother never said anything about his father when he asked, so he never thought much about it.
But now, he can’t help but wonder, how does it feel to have a real father? Would his real father treat him like how Mr Yang did? To draw together using the most bizarre colour combination. To carry him when he doesn’t feel like walking on a trip. To hold him close after every nightmare?
Sunday blinked; there were teardrops on the card.
He quickly wiped his face, and grabbed another crayon to hopefully cover it up.
Maybe he should also add stickers to decorate the card.
—
“Happy Father’s Day, Mr Yang!”
The next day arrived, and March had gone ahead and presented the cake to Mr Yang as the crew were finishing breakfast. She placed it in the middle of the table where everyone could see, and Sunday was next to her, observing Mr Yang’s reaction from the moment they walked in with the cake.
Welt’s was wide-eyed with surprise. His eyes hadn’t left the cake even when Stelle was gushing over how there’s a day for dad. It was a simple round cake, with creams and berries on top as decorations. There were also a few colourful star candies decorated in different styles on the side of the cake; an obvious tell-tale that it was done by two different people.
“Sunday brought up the topic yesterday and we decided to prepare this cake, just for you.” March explained, receiving a few ooo ’s from Stelle and Dan Heng while Himeko hummed. All eyes went to Mr Yang, waiting for any form of response other than him staring onto the cake.
The man finally pried his eyes away after what felt like an eternity.
“Is this really necessary?”
Sunday would’ve thought Mr Yang didn’t approve of what they did with a response like that. But recognizing that meek tone in his voice, that lopsided smile on his face even as he hesitated to accept the kind gesture.
Sunday’s feather’s fluttered, satisfied; Mr Yang looked happy.
“Come on~ You’ve been a great father figure for us on the Express!” March tried persuading, pushing the cake closer to Mr Yang. Even Dan Heng joined in wanting to prove her point.
“You’ve been patient with us, putting up with our antics, especially Stelle’s.”
Ignoring Dan Heng's comment, Stelle decided to teased instead, “Well, I can always take the whole thing if you don’t want it.” which earned her a light tap from Dan Heng. March was also quick to scold her.
“Don’t even think about it! I made this for Mr Yang only.”
“Calm down now.” Himeko interfered.
As the two went back and forth with their banter, Sunday stood closer to Mr Yang. He placed his hands on the man’s thigh and looked up, big eyes looking right into the other’s. Silently pleading. Surely Mr Yang wouldn’t say no to him, right?
Just as he thought, Mr Yang let out a laugh and gently patted Sunday’s head. “Very well.” He finally gave in, and Sunday internally cheered. “I can’t finish this on my own, however. I don’t mind sharing it with all of you.”
Mr Yang was still being considerate even when they’re celebrating him. Sunday can understand if it’s a birthday but not this one. “So long you get the biggest piece!” Sunday spoke loudly, insisting the cake still belongs to the brunet. His outburst caused everyone else to laugh.
So as agreed on, Welt cut the cake evenly into eight pieces, each crew member receiving one slice including Pom-Pom while the man was left with two slices for himself.
—
Sunday had gone to a corner while everyone was cleaning up, inspecting the card he has yet to give. He was supposed to give it to Mr Yang after March presented the cake but… He’s confused. Mr Yang looked so happy just now at the dining table. So why was he hesitating to give his gift?
“Hey.”
Mr Yang’s familiar voice broke his train of thought. He immediately turned his head to the source but hid the card to his side. “Done cleaning already?”
“Mhmm.” The man sat down on the couch next to Sunday. “I have at least two hours free before Express duties call. Is there anything you want to do in the meantime?” He informed the boy. This is usually due Sunday always following him around the Express to keep him company, even when Welt was occupied.
Mr Yang is always busy, yet he still lets Sunday stay close.
Sunday glanced at the card by his side, still debating with himself. Instead, he pushed it under his legs to keep it hidden. “I’m okay with us just sitting here if you don’t mind.” He needed time.
Welt gave him a look, but chose not to pry further. “So it’s Father’s Day in Penacony?”
A topic that Sunday knew, the boy enthusiastically nodded his head. He moved himself so he could face Mr Yang more comfortably. “Yup! Mom said it used to be a day to celebrate the Father of Penacony, but eventually gained a new meaning as years passed. I never knew my father, so I don’t know if I’m doing things right…”
“It’s fine. It’s the thought that counts.” Mr Yang assured him. “In fact, Father's Day is also a thing back in my home world, so I wasn't expecting such familiar greetings. It's a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh.” Sunday hummed. So there’s also a Father’s Day from where Mr Yang was from. Could it be any different than how it was in Penacony?
And if Mr Yang is familiar with Father’s Day, then he must've celebrated it with his son, like how one was supposed to do…
“Pardon?”
Sunday's feather puffed out, tensed. Did he say that out loud? He looked at the older man, the man was looking right at him with a question on his face. “Ah- No- I-!” he stuttered. It’s probably no use hiding it, doesn’t it? “It’s… um… March told me you have a son.”
“Oh.”
Something about that short reply, with that sudden shift of tone, somehow scared Sunday. Was he disappointed that Sunday knew something he shouldn’t? “She didn’t say much other than that, I promise.”
“Wait, no, Sunday, it’s fine.” a sturdy hand placed itself on Sunday’s small shoulder, grounding him. “I was just surprised.”
“Don’t be mad at March…” he whispered. His feathers drooped, fearing Mr Yang would be upset.
But Mr Yang expressed otherwise. Instead of disappointment, he only laughed, genuinely amused. “No, I won’t. It must’ve slipped her mouth yesterday when you two prepared the cake.” He tried guessing.
It was not, but Sunday chose not to correct him. It technically still happened yesterday after all. He eventually relaxed and pushed Mr Yang’s hand off his shoulder, before deciding to speak, “No need to talk about him if it makes you sad, but,” he kept his eyes on the older man, reading his expression, “March mentioned you two were separated before you boarded the Express…”
Sunday spoke slowly, carefully. Mr Yang hasn’t said anything, patiently waiting for him to finish. Maybe he shouldn't be asking this, but a part of him was curious about it that he couldn’t help but wanting to know more.
“Did you… miss him?”
The man sighed. “Our parting happened abruptly, it’s hard to stop thinking about what happened.” Just like March had mentioned, there’s a hint of sadness when he said that. That glint of sorrow in his eyes, but it disappeared just as quick when Mr Yang lifted his hand and placed it on Sunday’s head, which elicited an oomph from the boy. “But let’s save that for another day. I wouldn’t want to ruin the mood after the nice surprise you and March threw earlier.”
With the way he changed the subject, Sunday chose to respect that. He once again removed that hand, but this time kept it in his small hands, playing with it. Mr Yang didn’t seem to mind.
“Maybe…” a thought formed in his mind. “Maybe you can pretend that your son organized this surprise?”
It sounded rather silly when he heard it for himself, and Mr Yang seemed to agree with him judging from his next response.
“But then that wouldn’t be fair to you, to any of you, wouldn’t it?”
O-oh?
“It was your thoughts that made this happen. If all I do is think of my son who I hadn’t seen in years, then I’d miss out what’s happening in the present. With you and the rest of the crew.” the man reassure kindly, a gentle smile not leaving his face. “Well, I’m not saying I’m forgetting my son, but,” Mr Yang chuckled, with his free hand, he scratched his neck. “I think I’m getting too complicated here.”
“I… always thought that it’s more meaningful to celebrate this with families.”
“It is.”
“I meant blood related families.”
“And neither is my son.”
Sunday blinked. Right, March did say adopted. How did he forget that? Was he so occupied with the new info that the keyword completely slipped his mind?
While Sunday was busy thinking of a response, the man continued,
“The same goes for any of you. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to care for each of you.”
The boy fell silent, his gaze falling to the space between them on the couch. Yes, Mr Yang had taken good care of him; isn’t that the reason why he wanted to do this in the first place? He looked towards the card that he had kept hidden from sight.
“Mr Yang…” He called out, earning a hum from the older as a response. Gathering his courage, he finally took the card out and handed it to the other’s hand still in his hold.
And Mr Yang looked like he had been expecting this from the way he smiled — of course he does, nothing escapes Mr Yang. The man gently grabbed it and brought it closer to himself. Sunday watched as Mr Yang inspected it, looking at the way Mr Yang chuckled as he took in his attempt to draw Arahato on the cover.
“Arahato never looked better.” Mr Yang praised, before he unfolded the card to reveal the content.
It was a simple, almost family-portrait-like of the Astral Express crew, and Sunday even had included himself in it. Mr Yang looked closely, admiring the unique strokes the boy had. The colors he had chosen, the stickers decorating the page.
Sunday was still watching Mr Yang closely when he noticed the change of his expression. The way his smile slowly faded. Before Sunday could have time to worry, the card was folded close, and without another word, Mr Yang pulled Sunday closer, wrapping one arm around the boy in a hug. Sunday wanted to ask what’s wrong, but when his ears caught a shaky ‘thank you’ from the other, he responded back by wrapping both his arms around the man, hugging back.
“Happy Father’s Day.”