Chapter Text
The past always felt it was lingering just behind March, a veil of unknown, of darkness, looming just behind her at all times. She'd felt it in passing many times -when she was lost in those back alleys in Belobog, when Tingyun was taken over on the Luofu, the first time she entered the the Endless Dream in Penacony- and it only seemed to grow more prevalent the longer their Trailblazing journey went.
She had dreams about it some nights, dreams that felt closer to night terrors than she cared to admit. So much was unknown, so many things she had no clue about. . . and it terrified her, deep down.
Who had she been before, to have such lingering fears?
She found herself pacing her room that evening, the lingering apprehension in her stomach keeping her from properly resting. Perhaps this time it was a blessing; her nightmares had become much more prevalent as of late. Ever since their journey had brought them to Amphoreus, she'd noticed the change. She felt weaker, sluggish even on nights she swore she got ample amounts of sleep. Even her chipper attitude wasn't as bright as normal, asshe'd found herself spending far more time in her room than she usually would. More naps, more restless than ever, which was NOT cool!
Amidst her pacing, she found her gaze drawn to the Express' window. Amphoreus loomed off in the distance, the cacophony of colors a kaleidoscope across blue-pink hues. Truly, she was envious of her companions; while she was stuck here feeling all sorts of strange, THEY got to go experience it firsthand. How unfair was that??
A sigh parted lips, March resting her head against the glass. It was cool against her forehead, a comfort she hadn't realized she needed. Her hand lifted, pressing longingly into the glass as well, as if by some miracle she can reach the planet in such a way.
"Ugh. . . I really miss you guys," breathed she, her tone soft amidst the silence of her room. "This sucks. . . it feels so lonely on the Express without you. . ."
Her voice catches, emotion spilling out since there was no one to pretend for. Welt, Himeko, and Sunday were taking care of other matters, and Black Swan wouldn't be back to check on her for a few hours yet. She was effectively, and painfully, alone.
Or. . . so she thought. A flash of light caught her attention against the window, her gaze following it through the reflection. But something looked. . . off. The reflection was distorted, but she could make out her defining features; her bright pink hair, fair skin, red ey -.
". . . Huh?" She narrowed her gaze, trying to focus the image, but nothing changed.
"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳?" a voice called out, her lips moving in the reflection and sending ice down March's spine. Before she could stop it, she flung herself back from the window, her heart pounding.
"W - What. . ." She began, her lips trembling, her eyes wide. "What was that?"
A gentle laugh seemed to come from nowhere, surrounding her from all sides. It made her entire body feel like it was rooted in place, as if some unseen force was holding her down.
"𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩?" cooed the voice again, but this time March didn't flinch as badly. It sounded like her, same lilt between words, only. . . colder. Lifting herself up just enough to glance at the window once again, she could more clearly make out the figure standing her.
Her face, her hair, even her build, but everything about her was different. It was like. . . March was looking at a different version of herself.
Perhaps a past version of herself, something inside surmised.
"𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. . ." Her voice held a cold adoration, like she was cradling a glass doll to her chest instead of speaking to a living person. "𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, '𝘬𝘢𝘺? 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. . . 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨."
Something about that didn't sit well with her, and it was clear on March's face as she began to protest. What gave her the right to just barge in and take over anyway??
"H - Hey, wait a min --" She began, but her words were cut short. Her vision blurred, the image of this reflection becoming solid between blinks. A gentle hand cradled her face, clutched her waist, and guided her towards her bed. She couldn't even fight it; it was like her touch was magnetic, and it was too easy to fall into.
She was carefully placed into her bed then, her blankets tucked around her with such deliberate care that March could've swore she was made of glass.
"𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥," continued the voice, clearer, more icy in its resolute adoration, "𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧. 𝘐 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 7𝘵𝘩. . ."
Before she knew it, her eyes closed properly, the darkness blanketing her like a heavy quilt and dragging her into a slumber she hadn't asked for.