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At 8:00 in the morning, Dan Heng knocked on the door of the second room along the Parlor Car corridor.
“Just come in, it’s not locked.” That familiar, pleasantly crisp voice rang out, making Dan Heng sigh softly as he guessed what the girl had been doing moments before hearing his knock. Had she been waiting for several minutes already? Or had she been sprawled across the bed, muttering under her breath about how long breakfast was taking today?
“Breakfast is here.” Dan Heng gave a small, respectful nod while grinning, turns out his second guess was correct. March seemed to be holding back her annoyance, judging by her puffed cheeks and crossed arms as she stared at Dan Heng, who took long strides toward the bed.
“What did you bring today?”
“Plain porridge, sliced apples–” He paused, noticing March’s expression grow even more disgruntled, “ –and watermelon juice,” he added, which immediately made her face light up with delight.
March shifted into the most comfortable sitting position at the edge of the bed and clapped her hands. “Finally, real food.”
“Pom-Pom would cry if they heard you say that,” Dan Heng replied. With practiced ease, he arranged the tableware in front of her – spoon, bowl, and dishes placed just right, all tailored to her preferences.
Hearing his tease, March shot him a glare. “It’s not that I don’t like Pom-Pom’s food, blame Herta Space Station’s medical staff for all those food restrictions and diet rules.” She waved her hand dismissively before reaching for the spoon beside the porridge bowl.
Dan Heng stifled a laugh. Her sulky expressions were, more often than not, an unexpected source of amusement for him. He walked toward the end of the room and dragged a chair over to the foot of the bed.
“Huh? You’re staying here?” March, who had been about to dip her spoon into the bowl, froze when she realized Dan Heng was already seated properly across from her, separated only by the food trolley.
He nodded, mildly puzzled. Just a few days ago, she’d been the one making a fuss whenever he tried to leave right after delivering her breakfast. “Aren’t you the one who always asks me to stay?”
March answered with a mischievous grin. “Keep me company while I eat, Dan Heng?” she asked shamelessly, wearing an expression that would have even melted Himeko’s heart.
“Just finish your food,” Dan Heng muttered, prompting March’s laughter to echo throughout the room. He pulled out the book he had prepared earlier, opened it to the last page he’d read, and settled in to read peacefully.
But before he could even reach the end of the page, something else caught his attention. March still hadn’t eaten anything or rather, not a single bite had reached her mouth since earlier.
“Are you alright?” Sensing something off, Dan Heng immediately lowered his book and adjusted his posture only to flinch when the spoon in March’s grasp clattered to the floor, along with the bit of porridge it carried.
They both cried out at the same time – March’s, of course, far more hysterical. Dan Heng exhaled deeply, quickly catching her hand as it writhed about like an overheated worm.
Without saying much, the cloudpiercer carefully cleaned up the small mess, then lifted his gaze to meet March’s pomegranate eyes, now shimmering with tears.
“It’s okay. You were just startled,” Dan Heng said, sighing as he took the fallen spoon from her, set it aside, and picked up a new one that had already been prepared.
“The shaking hasn’t gotten better yet, huh?” he added, watching her right hand closely as it remained clasped in his left. March answered only with a small nod, sadness hanging visibly on her face.
“Sorry,” she said quietly.
Dan Heng shook his head. “Don’t think about it. Porridge first, like usual, right?”
With practiced movements, he picked up the bowl, stirred the porridge gently, scooped a small portion, and held it up in front of her.
Though her expression was a mix of sadness, gloom, and reluctance, Dan Heng could still see a glimmer of happiness at the corners of her eyes. “Like usual,” she nodded softly, finally opening her mouth and swallowing the white, bland dish that had become her staple these past few days.
The activity went on without any real trouble. March chewed calmly, and Dan Heng fed her in silence, having no interest in teasing her or commenting on the lazy expression she wore by the time they reached the thirteenth spoonful.
“Come on, that’s already half,” March pouted as she craned her neck to peer into the bowl, one she was genuinely grateful to see had been reduced by half. Dan Heng, meanwhile, shook his head in disagreement, fully aware of what the girl was implying.
“Herta Space Station’s medical staff already said your diet has to be balanced. Your stamina is still far from normal.” Even the nurse who used to exclaim in exasperation whenever March snuck out of the infirmary only to be found collapsed in some unreachable corner of the spaceship had said the same thing. “Or would you rather have their sticky plain porridge?” Dan Heng added with a smirk, making March shudder instantly.
“Don’t even say that!” she yelled, half-glowering before returning to chewing the fruit pieces Dan Heng offered her.
Dan Heng merely shook his head. He already knew how to coax a reluctant March who’d been sulking for days now. Honestly, he understood her behavior who wouldn’t be sick of swallowing plain white porridge for a full week? Only March could endure that.
“Open your mouth.”
“Hm?” Dan Heng lifted his head, slightly startled when a slice of apple appeared right in front of his mouth, held out by March with her arm and fingers trembling violently as she did so.
Seeing the determination on her face, Dan Heng complied, helping steady her arm as he took the fruit from the utensil she was holding. Only after he began chewing did the resolve on March’s face fade, draining away in stages. It seemed she had forced herself too much just now.
“Why push yourself like that?” Dan Heng scolded gently while chewing, letting March’s arm withdraw on its own.
“It just feels… weird if you don’t eat with me,” the girl shrugged, rubbing her right hand, which was still shaking noticeably. Dan Heng glanced at her fingers, recalling Herta’s and Asta’s analysis back when March was in the infirmary.
“Her body may have only been encased in Six-Phased Ice for a short time, but her mind was not.” Herta or rather, the Herta puppet had sighed, gazing at the unconscious March lying in the infirmary bed. “There will be adjustments needed for her body to accept all the abnormalities like reduced appetite, lower body temperature, and diminished motor control when grasping objects.” A moment later, she had stopped right in front of Dan Heng. “Take good care of her.”
And everything the genius had said proved to be true. During the first week after March was allowed to leave the infirmary, she seemed fine at first bright-faced and energetic as ever. But on the seventh day of recovery, everything changed completely.
March’s body temperature dropped drastically, leaving her shivering violently in bed. Dan Heng, who had been keeping watch by her side, could only shout for the help, unable to bear the sight of March nearly convulsing before finally losing consciousness due to the procedures the medical staff carried out.
“Zoning out again.” Dan Heng’s thoughts snapped back to the present as he looked at March, who was blinking at him while waving her hand right in front of his face. “Come on, there’s still a little left,” March teased, gesturing with her chin toward the bowl still in Dan Heng’s hands.
He cleared his throat hastily, returning his focus to the duty he’d taken on over the past few days.
“Is there any food you want? I can ask Pom-Pom to make it for you, of course, if Herta’s medical staff allows it.” After weighing it over in his head, Dan Heng finally made the offer. Let it be a small reward, just to lift her spirits, even if only a little.
At his words, the dull light in her eyes sparkled once more, accompanied by a blooming smile that seemed like it would never fade. “Really? Then anything, as long as it’s not this bland porridge!” she exclaimed, bowing her head as her palms pressed together in front of her.
Dan Heng nodded, even though he knew March wouldn’t see it. “For now, finish your meal first.” March immediately answered with a pitiful whine.
At last, the morning routine came to a complete end, leaving March lazily sipping her watermelon juice through a straw. “I want something sweet…” she groaned aimlessly, very deliberately avoiding Dan Heng’s gaze as he frowned in response.
Dan Heng let out a quiet snort, but all he got in return was the back of the girl’s head, sprawled lazily against the seat he’d been using earlier.
“Wait here. I’ll bring you some snacks,” the young man relented. Strangely, that still didn’t earn him any enthusiasm. “…and candy,” he added – still nothing, which only made Dan Heng more confused. “…with tea?”
March immediately turned around, her face lighting up with a radiant smile.
“Use your tea set!” she declared happily, setting the juice glass back onto the food trolley before flopping onto the bed.
“Hey! Don’t lie down right away–” Dan Heng managed to catch her, stopping her from collapsing flat on her back. “Sit up first. I’ll be back in a bit.”
After making sure March nodded obediently, Dan Heng didn’t waste any time. He wheeled the food trolley out and headed straight for the Express’s kitchen.
Under normal circumstances, it should have taken him only fifteen minutes to brew tea and prepare some snacks. But this time, almost as if he were preparing to welcome an honored guest, he ended up spending twice as long, pacing back and forth just to choose the tea and sweets he’d promised March.
And after half an hour, he finally returned to her room only for Dan Heng to blink in surprise, glancing instinctively toward the Archive door that served as his own bedroom. Why did March’s room feel so familiar to him lately?
“I’m coming in… March?” The door slid open, and cold sweat nearly broke out on Dan Heng’s back when he didn’t see the pink-haired girl on the bed. Before he could call out again, however, someone’s stifled laughter made him shift his gaze.
March was still in the room – she had just changed positions.
Realizing that, Dan Heng froze, suddenly aware of his own foolishness.
“Why are you panicking like that?” March asked between suppressed giggles, one hand covering her mouth as she struggled to hold back her laughter. “Oh my gosh, I should’ve recorded your face…”
“Don’t be weird,” Dan Heng huffed, already embarrassed. He stepped fully into the room, bumping into the doorframe in the process. He winced softly as the pain spread from his forehead through his head.
March was sitting in the middle of the room now, atop a fur rug spread across the floor, right in front of a wall filled with photographs that changed every minute. Still trying to contain her laughter, March doubled over, clutching both her stomach and her mouth as she watched Dan Heng grow more flustered. Photo prints and journals were scattered around her, strewn carelessly by their owner.
Clicking his tongue softly, Dan Heng set the tray down in a spot that felt safe and out of reach. He then turned his attention to March, who no longer needed to cover her mouth – only a wide, utterly shameless grin remained.
“It smells good,” she commented. Noticing Dan Heng’s less-than-friendly stare, she crawled closer, trying to peek at the contents of the tray her neighbor had just brought in.
“Clean up your photos first.” As expected, Dan Heng shot her a sharp look – like an angry dragon ready to pounce if someone dared touch its treasure. March immediately nodded obediently, gathering the photos and stacking them neatly into a pile about a handspan tall at the edge of the fur rug.
She then sat primly facing Dan Heng, who stared blankly at how drastically the room had changed in mere seconds.
“Sooo, what flavor is the tea?” March wore her brightest smile, one that nearly made Dan Heng’s heart skip as he struggled not to voice a compliment.
Shaking his head, he reached for the teacup he’d already poured and offered it to her, making sure her hands were steady enough to hold it.
“Careful, it’s hot.” As if sensing his concern, March let a faint smile curve at the corner of her lips. She confidently extended her hand, ready to accept the cup. In one smooth motion, she drew the tea toward herself, the distinct aroma of citrus and tea instantly filling her senses.
Almost entranced, March seemed soothed by the steam that brushed against her face. Ignoring Dan Heng’s worried gaze fixed firmly on her, she brought the rim of the cup to her lips–
Only to let out a small yelp right after.
“Aw!” she winced softly as the tip of her tongue was briefly assaulted by a burning sensation, prompting Dan Heng to quickly pull the teacup out of her grasp. His attention shifted immediately to March, who was already regretting her impulsive action.
“I told you already,” Dan Heng murmured quietly, lowering his head so he could carefully check whether her lips or tongue had burned.
“I–I’m fine,” March shook her head instead. It was less about the pain and more about being startled by Dan Heng suddenly leaning so close to her. “Give the cup back,” she quickly averted her gaze, reaching out for the teacup Dan Heng had just taken away.
And Dan Heng with a mix of irritation, and perhaps the influence of spending far too much time around the Astral Express’s two resident troublemakers lifted the cup high above his head instead.
March stared up at him in stunned disbelief, blinking in confusion.
“Hey, Dan Heng? That’s my cup, you know?”
“Technically, it’s still part of my collection,” Dan Heng countered, clearly enjoying the look of struggle on March’s face as she tried her best to reach it.
“Just because you’ve gotten taller!” March hissed indignantly, refusing to lose. But before she could stand up, Dan Heng voluntarily lowered the cup and placed it neatly into her open palm.
March froze in surprise, while Dan Heng stood up and walked toward her bed. She spared him a brief glance before returning her attention to the cup, taking a careful sip of the liquid inside. At once, a warm fragrance spread pleasantly through her stomach.
“This is good!” March reflexively turned around, her gaze meeting Dan Heng just as he returned with her thick blanket, draping it over her shoulders. In no time at all, she was wrapped up like a plump caterpillar.
“You like it? I dried the citrus peel and tea leaves a bit earlier. It's a little different from the usual recipe, but I’m glad you like it.” He gently patted the thick blanket into place, making sure it fully covered her before returning to sit on the fur rug, reaching for his own cup of tea.
It didn’t take long for March’s attention to drift back to the photographs laid out nearby. She flipped through them one by one, occasionally giggling at what she saw, prompting Dan Heng to glance at the photo currently in her hands.
In the picture were himself and the gray-haired Trailblazer, posing in front of the grand statue of Kephale. Dan Heng remembered that moment clearly the day that local youth had become the source of all their trouble when they were first welcomed as guests in the holy city.
“Why do you look so grumpy here?” March, of course, noticed Dan Heng watching and asked over her shoulder, fully aware that he was right there.
“I’m not grumpy,” Dan Heng replied flatly, earning a light giggle from her.
“Then what’s this? So monochrome?” Dan Heng looked again, nearly losing focus, March bundled up in the thick blanket looked oddly like a giant plush doll, soft and oversized.
“Castorice took the photo. Isn’t it a good shot?”
“Hmmm, it is! Every photographer has their own unique style.” March nodded to herself, seemingly very pleased with her own conclusion.
They sank into the simple activity together. For Dan Heng, it truly was simple just revisiting memories of journeys he had taken across worlds filled with stories and sacrifice. But he also knew that for March, these photos and her reactions to them were pieces of a journey she had missed while being left behind on the Astral Express.
And it was there that Dan Heng felt the strangeness most clearly.
He would bet on the Earth Coreflame fused to his heart that March’s heartbeat was gradually changing, slowing, uneven, accompanied by the way her gaze dulled and how frequently her breaths escaped in quiet sighs.
Something was wrong.
So Dan Heng tried to divert her attention. He lifted his hand, gently brushing aside the strands of hair that blocked his view. March reflexively turned to look at him, her eyes silently asking, ‘What is it?’
Dan Heng thought fast. “What would you rate this Trailblaze journey to Amphoreus?” The question made him grimace inwardly, this was something he should have asked when the three of them were together with the Trailblazer.
However, seeing that March seemed taken aback by the question, her brows immediately drew together as the photographs held in both her hands were slowly lowered.
“Shall we say it together?” Dan Heng offered, earning a small nod in response.
“Four out of five.”
“Two point five.”
Dan Heng froze, making sure his mind hadn’t misheard. A sense of déjà vu washed over him, it was just like when they had rated the Belobog Trailblaze journey, except this time, their opinions stood on opposite ends.
March seemed to realize it too. Her eyes blinked slowly, a detail Dan Heng did not miss in the slightest.
“You’re giving a high score for once,” she said, turning to fully face him. “Did you like Amphoreus that much?”
Dan Heng immediately rubbed his face, not expecting a question that felt like it would only darken March’s expression further.
“Maybe… it’s because I was given the chance to find meaning in many things there,” he finally answered after a moment of thought. His hand moved to reach for March’s thick blanket, which had slipped down to her shoulders, pulling it back up to cover her head once more.
“Besides meeting another descendant of Permanence even if it was only a shadow, I was able to speak properly with Dan Feng,” he paused, studying March’s face as she listened. “And the journey to find the Trailblazer within Memoria taught me many things. Most of all–” Dan Heng exhaled softly, gently smoothing the crease between March’s brows, “ –I was able to learn more about you… and about her.”
Though she flinched slightly at the warm fingers touching her forehead, March remained silent at Dan Heng’s final words. And that silence, inevitably, made him uneasy.
“What about you?” he asked softly. “Did Amphoreus make you sad?” Once again, Dan Heng noted the subtle change in March’s expression, holding himself back from cupping her face, even if that might have eased things.
A breath escaped her as March awkwardly tightened the blanket around herself with both hands. “Evernight told me that the time I spent in Amphoreus only amounted to ninety-seven days, wandering like a ghost no one could hear or see.”
“That was sad… and scary. Thinking that the next day, the two of you might cross the skies and no longer recognize me at all. And in the midst of all that, I nearly sank into the sea of Oblivion, struggling not to be swallowed completely.” March’s words drifted, just like her distant gaze – one that seemed to be replaying another story far away.
“But it turns out I was wrong,” she continued quietly. “I thought being alone for ninety-seven days was already frightening enough, but apparently… watching you disappear right in front of my eyes scared me even more.”
She smiled bitterly, staring down at her palms which had begun trembling once again.
“During the fight with Irontomb, we were pushed back and vanished in the blink of an eye. I tried to reach for you, but when I opened my eyes, you were gone and I was left in complete darkness. I kept calling out to you. To the Trailblazer, Himeko, Mr. Yang, Pom-Pom… but there was no answer. Not a single one.”
Silence hung heavily as Dan Heng lost the words to respond.
March hurriedly continued, “But, well… at least the whole story ended happily in the end.”
Her smile returned, one that felt profoundly strange to Dan Heng’s eyes.
So many words and objections gathered in his throat, yet his tongue refused to move. All he could do was try to convey his unrest through his gaze alone something March noticed immediately, as she quickly avoided his eyes, shifting away and turning her back to him.
They were both lost in their own thoughts. Dan Heng’s, however, were weighed down by overwhelming guilt. How could he have forgotten that? How could he so easily speak of happiness and relief from this journey, when March had suffered just so they could enter that world safely?
And that was just how boundless March’s kindness had always been. She never harbored hatred or resentment toward anything.
And Dan Heng could always be the first person she forgave – no matter what his mistake was.
“Dan Heng,” March called softly, her voice faint and trembling.
Dan Heng immediately stopped berating himself and looked at March’s back, still wrapped tightly in the blanket.
“Yes, March?” he replied, still hoping she would turn around.
“Dan Heng,” she called again.
Dan Heng swallowed hard, his fingers curling into a tight fist. “March.”
“Dan Heng.”
“Yes.”
“Dan Heng.”
“I’m here.”
“Dan Heng.”
“Turn around, March.”
“Dan Heng.”
“Listen to me, March. Whether you call my name hundreds or even thousands of times, I will always answer.” Dan Heng clenched his hand, silently wishing through words he would never speak that she would turn back to face him.
Dan Heng was terrible at understanding feelings. And yet, for March, he never wanted there to be any misunderstandings. All he wanted was for her to keep smiling, even as the fear in his chest whispered softly that one day, there might come a time when she would never look back again.
And Dan Heng truly hoped that day was not today.
“Do you really mean it?” March still hadn’t turned around, but her voice was hoarse, her head bowed, a habit she had whenever she was holding back tears.
“Can you promise that, even when we don’t know what awaits us at the next stop?” she asked again, her body slowly retreating, though she still did not fully face him.
Dan Heng nodded, then realized she wouldn’t see it. “Yes,” he said. “Even if I’m not there, there will always be someone who watches over you and brings you back, March.”
His hand lifted, fingers reaching for the thick blanket that was only a handspan away.
“Don’t be afraid, March. We are Nameless, even death itself cannot drown Akivili’s will.”
“It really seems like Amphoreus has turned you into a true Nameless, Dan Heng,” March chuckled softly as she finally turned to face him. Her hand reached out, grasping Dan Heng’s, which was still hanging in the air.
“I won’t be afraid anymore, even if a dark future waits ahead.” March’s grip was strong in Dan Heng’s palm. Her fingers trembled, cold seeping into the skin where they touched but Dan Heng would swear that it was the warmest grip she had ever given him.
“Because on the Express, no one will ever be alone,” he said, as if completing her sentence, offering a simple vow that bore witness to every step of their journey up to this moment.
They exchanged gentle smiles, exhaling softly as they made a promise to themselves and to each other, to stay together until the very end of this journey.
“By the way, Dan Heng,” March said casually, “you seem to use this form more often ever since we got back from Amphoreus?” Her hand lifted, reaching for the long strands of Dan Heng’s hair cascading down his back. She draped them over his shoulder, her fingers tracing from the tips to the roots, slow and deliberate making Dan Heng hold his breath without realizing it.
“Why?” She tilted her head, her gaze still fixed on the dark strands. Her fingers moved again, loosening the golden clasp that bound his hair, letting it spill freely.
Dan Heng pressed his lips together, words failing him as March leaned closer. “Your hair’s grown longer too,” she said instead, her fingers brushing his shoulder just briefly enough to raise goosebumps along his skin. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
“So has yours,” Dan Heng swallowed hard, lifting his hand to mirror her movements, gently combing through her hair. Soft pink strands filled his fingers, like blooming hydrangeas in full blossom.
“Really? I thought the color was fading,” March said lightly, still busy braiding Dan Heng’s hair.
“Hm. It’s still beautiful just like always,” Dan Heng answered honestly, not even bothering to blink. He studied her focused expression, suddenly aware that the difference in their heights had become quite noticeable even while sitting.
“My head’s gonna get a hole if you keep staring like that,” March quipped innocently. Dan Heng actually gaped at her.
“I’m not–?!” He leaned forward reflexively only to regret it immediately.
March’s eyes once like dusk hanging in a blue sky now resembled deep ruby, deep and consuming, threatening to pull him under if he stared too long. Her breath brushed perfectly against his chin. With only a fist’s width between their faces, Dan Heng could no longer ignore the frantic pounding of his heart.
Logic told him to pull back. That this was a mistake, an impropriety born of subconscious impulse. But when those clear eyes showed not the slightest hint of rejection, Dan Heng felt like he might lose his mind.
The hand still tangled in March’s hair trembled and shamelessly found its way to where her back should be beneath the blanket, giving a gentle push that coaxed her even closer.
Dan Heng swallowed, caught between guilt and desire poised on the edge of his tongue. “May I?” he asked softly, fully prepared to retreat the instant she refused.
March remained still, as if weighing his request in the flicker of her eyes, reading his intent through his actions alone. Then she offered a faint smile, exhaling slowly teasing him further, tightening the pressure in his chest.
“Time to show you what I’m really made of, hmm?” Like a hunter who knew exactly where her prey was weakest, March whispered the dangerous words, her hand settling on a shoulder she’d known for a long time.
Her eyes narrowed with delight, savoring how Dan Heng’s once-tense expression slowly softened. “Show me what you’ve got, then” Dan Heng whispered back, fully indulging the game, leaning forward, offering himself to her.
March was the one who moved first. Without hesitation, she looped her arms around the back of Dan Heng’s neck, pulling him close and kissing him deeply eagerly without wasting a second. So fervent that she didn’t even realize how easily her breath faltered within such a brief meeting.
Dan Heng gazed at his girl for a moment, then leaned in again, claiming the lips that sparked a cascade of sensations across his tongue. Like finding a spring after a thirst left unquenched for far too long, he refused to let go not even for a heartbeat.
The air around them seemed to thin rapidly, colliding with the surging emotions in their chests that, strangely enough, made neither of them want to stop. Dan Heng let out a short growl, both hands pulling March closer, guiding her until her body settled atop his lap.
He cupped her face, allowing her to breathe while holding her in a languid, teasing gaze. He let her fingers tangle in his hair even though his body should have felt cold against her skin, instead it sent shivers racing through him, making him want even more.
March blinked slowly, a faint blush blooming as she realized Dan Heng’s eyes never left her face. She may have been the one to start it, but in her current state, she was struggling to keep up with the fervor he showed. “Eager, aren’t you?” she whispered between breaths, earning a thin smile from Dan Heng before he pressed his lips to hers again.
They stayed entwined for a long time, giving and taking becoming something that needed to be satisfied immediately, especially for Dan Heng, who repeatedly bit at her lips with his sharp teeth, asking silently for permission to go deeper.
Truthfully, March hadn’t expected Dan Heng’s desire to be this honest, this openly shown. Physical contact wasn’t unfamiliar to her, but this side of him this intensity was something entirely new to their experience.
“I missed you,” Dan Heng said at last, answering her earlier remark as he pulled her back into his embrace.
It was true they hadn’t seen each other for so long. Though their body had been forced into stillness, unable to move, their mind had wandered alone, haunted by fear of a tomorrow that might never come.
At first, Dan Heng had only known that the longing existed, buried deep within his heart, hidden to preserve the fragile balance he had to uphold. But longing is honest by nature. You can glance at it and pretend it isn’t there but the moment you give it shape, it returns to you many times over.
Their kiss deepened, and March finally parted her lips, allowing her tongue to join the dance. Dan Heng smiled in quiet triumph, tilting his head to give her brief moments to breathe between each claiming press.
His hand slid up, searching for the nape of her neck, pushing closer as if he had no intention of letting go. And the thick blanket, well, had long since been tossed aside without care by the cloudpiercer bearer.
When March seemed close to losing her breath, Dan Heng finally granted her a pause. His gaze never left her flushed face, her breathing short and uneven, each inhale drawn desperately through parted lips.
“Say my name,” Dan Heng whispered softly, almost groaning at the sight of her panting expression. He held her face with one hand, confusion flickering in her garnet-colored eyes.
Between blurred vision and the heat, whether from her body or her burning face, March couldn’t tell why Dan Heng was letting the pause stretch on for more than half a minute. But this wasn’t the time to think. So she obeyed, whispering with a shaky breath, “Dan Heng.”
Immediately, March looked away, embarrassment blooming as she heard how different her voice sounded. She expected something to follow but no warm rush came to meet her face. Instead, she gripped Dan Heng’s shoulders tightly, questioning him with her gaze.
“Dan Heng?” she whispered again, more urgently now unwilling to let the earlier euphoria end just like that. She pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his lips, pairing it with a wide smile meant to tease. Still, nothing.
“Dan Heng…” she whined softly, half pleading. Dan Heng only smiled, clearly enjoying the sight of his flushed, glassy-eyed girl spelling out his name on trembling lips, observing how fresh the marks of their earlier kisses still lingered, especially on her lower lip.
“I kept my promise, didn’t I?” Dan Heng murmured. “Whenever you call my name, I’ll answer.”
And with that, he leaned in again, kissing her without pause.
As if the world were ending tomorrow, Dan Heng grew more impatient in claiming her lips and March, stubborn as ever, refused to lose, trying to take control, only to end up letting herself be carried away by the current.
It was the falling droplets that finally stopped the young man’s movements. Dan Heng was certain his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, so he pulled his face back only to see clear, crystalline tears soaking his girl’s cheeks. He froze instantly, withdrawing himself without a second thought.
“Are you in pain?” he whispered softly, his hoarse voice betraying him.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have gone that far when your stamina hasn’t fully recovered,” he added, guilt flooding his expression. One hand moved to wipe away the tears that kept spilling, while the other instinctively rubbed her back, hoping to soothe her.
“Ah, I–” March was just as startled. Flustered, she raised both hands and roughly wiped the moisture pooling at her lashes. “I’m not crying because of that,” she squeaked softly, her hands still covering her eyes.
Meanwhile, Dan Heng could only stand there, cursing himself in silence. “I’m just happy… I think? Anyway, I’m happy,” March explained haltingly, even as her tears refused to stop.
With all his confusion, Dan Heng simply stayed still, waiting for her to continue. It was fine– waiting like this… he would do it even for years if needed.
“You know,” March finally spoke, her hands lightly gripping his arms, “I thought you really wanted to stay in Amphoreus.” Her words nearly made Dan Heng protest in disbelief, only to be silenced by March’s sharp glare, one that clearly said she wasn’t done talking.
“How could I not think that? Lately you’re always using that form, pacing in front of my room in that form. Even now, you’re still using it,” she muttered, her voice growing smaller toward the end. “But –! It seems I was wrong? Right?” she suddenly exclaimed, straightening her posture as she sat atop Dan Heng’s lap, while he remained stunned.
“Very wrong,” Dan Heng replied flatly. Annoyance bubbled up inside him, though deep down he could understand how March had come to that conclusion.
March nodded brightly, tightening her grip around the back of his neck making Dan Heng feel an overwhelming urge to flick her forehead.
“I use this form because I want to show it to you,” Dan Heng finally said, gently pinching her still-reddened cheek. The remaining tears welled up again at the corners of her eyes.
March, on the other hand, could only stare, blinking as if to make sure she hadn’t misheard.
“Me?” she echoed, confused.
“Yes, you. Didn’t you once say you wanted to be carried princess-style by a tall prince?” Dan Heng teased, half-mocking.
“Well… that does sound like something I’d say,” she grimaced, scratching a cheek that wasn’t itchy at all.
“So?” Dan Heng continued. “Want to try it now?” He slipped one hand beneath her knees and stood up effortlessly, lifting March along with him.
“Huh?!” Caught completely off guard, March could only cling tightly to his neck, her face heating up as the rhythm of Dan Heng’s heartbeat echoed right beside her ears.
Dan Heng carried her to the bed, pushing aside piles of plushies and pillows of all shapes and sizes that blocked the way, drawing a protest from their owner, which was instantly cut off as she found herself neatly wrapped in the blanket like a cocoon.
“Hah?” Without much comment, Dan Heng laid her down on the bed, flat on her back like an oversized baby staring up at the ceiling. One hand propped his head, while the other began gently patting the thick bundle covering March’s body.
“What are we doing?” March asked, still dazed, glancing at Dan Heng utterly confused by everything that had happened in less than three hours. Breakfast, tea, kisses, and now this?
“Sleeping,” Dan Heng whispered, maintaining the slow, steady pats as if to calm her.
March let out a breath, pushing all her thoughts out of her head. Seriously? Just like that?
She closed her eyes willingly, lulled by the warmth enveloping her body that feels safe and comforting.
Watching March gradually drift off, Dan Heng smiled faintly, humming a soft tune to guide her into sweet dreams.
“You know, Dan Heng… even in this form, you still look cool,” March murmured with her eyes still closed. Dan Heng blinked, making sure he hadn’t imagined it. “But no matter what,” she continued, “the usual Dan Heng will always be the special one to me.”
Dan Heng froze.
“You…” he muttered quietly, pulling the cocoon closer so he could hold her properly. He breathed in at the hollow of her neck, hiding his flushed face that had reached all the way to his ears.
“It’s cute, you know, how you’re always bumping into doors,” she added with a soft chuckle. Dan Heng nearly glared only to find March’s face looking peaceful, fully asleep in her dreams.
“Forgive me… for always being the reason you feel sad,” Dan Heng whispered, his words swallowed by the cold air filling the room, accompanied by dancing stars beyond the window.
“If one day you want to leave everything that puts you in danger… then go. Don’t think about me, the one left behind.”
It was a plea and an apology offered to the cosmos and the fate still unfolding, hoping they would grant them kindness, even if only for a while.
That morning ended with Dan Heng finally closing his eyes as well, keeping March company as she wandered through her dreams.
“Just like how you fought so hard for all of us… let me be the reason you stay, at least for now.”