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ONE. MARCH
It was the night following Dan Heng and Caelus’ departure from the Astral Express and into Amphoreus. Already, the train felt quieter. An environment usually loud with Caelus and March’s bickering, and Dan Heng’s exasperated scolding was silent now. March was sick, laid up in bed and devastated she couldn’t join her fellow Trailblazers to their new destination.
And Sunday… he felt a little out of his comfort zone.
Perhaps that was what urged him to walk to the Party Car in the dead of night. Not that anyone could tell what time it was, being in space, but their clocks were programmed to the local time of whatever planet they were closest to, so from that he could garner it was a little past midnight presently. The Cart was empty, even Shush down for the night to recharge, and the light of the stars illuminated the area. Sunday flicked one of the lights on, bathing the room in a soft, golden glow, before his feet brought him to the dark piano in the corner of the room.
He sat, brushing his hands over the keys delicately, not pressing anything while he admired. Then, he applied some pressure and the note rung out softly in the Cart. Sunday felt some tension dissipate from his shoulders as he brought his other hand to the keys as well, closing his eyes and letting his hands guide him by muscle memory as a gentle little tune flowed from the instrument, filling the Cart with music.
He had only just finished playing that particular song when the shuffle of footsteps caught his attention and he looked up, eyes snapping open. March stood by the door, dressed in her pyjamas and rubbing her eyes. Her hair was messy and she wasn’t even wearing shoes, just socks.
“March?” Sunday spoke, his heart beating out of his chest. Had the music woken her? He wondered.
“I jus’ wanted to get something to drink, but I heard you playing when I got here.” March mumbled, making her way over.
“Did it disturb you? I apologise, I –”
“No, no, it was… it was nice,” March gave him a weak smile, and up close, he could see how pale and clammy she appeared. “Soothing.”
“I…” Sunday dug his nails into his palms. “I can keep playing if it brings you comfort.”
“Would you?” March’s eyes lit up and she sat on the sofa booth right beside the piano. “You’re the best, Sunny.”
Not really, Sunday thought as he began to play once more. A melody from his childhood this time, one he oft played for Robin when she was sick. He tried not to think about her much, it made him too sad to know he wouldn’t be seeing her for a very long time now, but perhaps playing the music he associated with her would be a good way to remember her. Maybe he could play her songs another day, but not today.
A while later, he hazarded a glance over at March only to see her fast asleep. She slumped against the cushions, her chest rising and falling, still pale but looking more comfortable than she had just a while ago when she was still awake. The smallest smile curled up Sunday’s lips and he bowed his head, changing the song to an even gentler tune.
TWO. WELT
“The Space Station has a piano,” Herta mentioned casually.
“Pardon, Madam Herta?” Sunday’s eyes widened as he turned to look at her. It hadn’t been that long since him and Welt arrived on the Station to seek her help (and subsequently bring her out of whatever experiment she had been doing).
“Ugh, I hate repeating myself,” She sighed, adjusting her hat. “I said, the Space Station has a piano.”
“Uh… thank you.” He furrowed his brows, earning another sigh from her before she disappeared. How did she possibly know? But then again, she was a Genius Society member, he shouldn’t be questioning how she knew things. The piano was in a room surrounded by large windows, overlooking the vastness of space. It was something he seldom saw in Penacony, spending most of his time in a dream after all, so he had grown to appreciate it since he joined the Astral Express on their journey.
This piano was a stark difference from the one on the Express, it was more… futuristic looking… if such a word could be used to describe a piano. It was as straightforward as any other piano, but the design was intriguing to say the least. Sunday sat on the bench, a cool metal one in comparison to the padded wooden one on the Express, and placed his hands on the keys. He had only played a few notes when the sound of someone clapping startled him.
“Mr. Yang?” Sunday’s eyes widened, seeing Welt standing by the open door.
“You play well. Do you take requests?”
“Uh, I –” Sunday paused, not knowing quite how to respond.
“It’s alright if you don’t. I can go if you’d rather spend some time on your own.” Welt said softly, placatingly.
“It’s… fine. I am unused to company while I play, but not averse to it,” Sunday shook his head after a moment, gesturing to the other seats in the room. “Please.”
“Thank you.”
“You… had a request?”
“A piece of music from my home,” Welt replied, finding his phone in his pocket and passing it over to Sunday with the sheet music pulled up. Sunday looked over it for a minute before he passed the phone back, laid both hands on the keys once more and continued playing, the melody an achingly familiar one to Welt.
THREE. CAELUS
“Sunday!” Caelus burst into the Party Car on the Express, startling Sunday from where he was sat at the piano. Sunday’s fingers froze on the keys and his eyes widened as Caelus approached, waving his phone in the air. “Do a ten pull for me! You always have good luck.”
Ironic, Sunday thought as he tapped on Caelus’ screen, watching it change to gold as he appeared to get whatever character he was wishing for. Caelus cheered, jumping up and down with a bright beam on his face. ”Did you get the character?”
“I did! You’re the best!” Caelus nodded enthusiastically. “Hey, you were playing something when I came in…”
“I… was…” Sunday said slowly.
“Can you play anything? Like if I show you music, could you play?”
“If there’s sheet music, yes. If it’s just a melody without sheet music, then it might not be accurate, but still yes.” Sunday nodded.
“Okay, great!” Caelus passed his phone over with a video open. “Play this, play this! It’s music from my game, it’s one of the boss themes.”
Sunday listened to it, nodding along and raising his eyebrows at some of the dramatic notes. “It won’t be the same,” He warned. “I only have a piano, but this is a mix of various instruments.”
“I’ll take whatever you got.” Caelus said earnestly, and so the Halovian played. Caelus perched on the edge of the sofa beside him, enraptured by the music playing and visibly growing more excited as familiar notes filled the air. He banged his head to the best, jamming out as Sunday began playing quicker. When he finished, Caelus played him another song and the cycle repeated as they went through nearly the entire discography of Caelus’ beloved game.
FOUR. DAN HENG
It was early morning when Sunday was joined by Dan Heng in the Party Car, armed with a steaming mug of tea and a bowl of something. The draconian man sat in the booth closest to Sunday, his long hair tied back and his ears pointed. Dan Heng didn’t spend much time in his Imbibitor Lunae form, but he was always more comfortable sleeping in it, so on rare occasions like these, he was glimpsed in the morning in that form.
“Sleep well?” Sunday asked and Dan Heng hummed, blowing on a spoonful of what Sunday now ascertained was congee.
“So, and so,” Dan Heng replied, spooning the food into his mouth. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on the Luofu.”
“Homesickness, hm? I know the feeling all too well,” Sunday sighed. “Is that why you’re eating congee?”
“Sometimes I’ll crave things from home. Most of it is relatively easy to make if we have the ingredients. I used to make March and Caelus fold dumplings with me.” Dan Heng explained.
“That sounds nice.”
“You can help too, next time we make them.” Dan Heng said, firm in his offer as though he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
A comfortable silence fell between them, as Sunday played the piano and Dan Heng finished off his food, spoon clinking against the ceramic amidst the piano’s sounds. Eventually, Sunday smoothly transitioned the song he was playing into a traditional Xianzhou tune. Without looking to see Dan Heng’s reaction, he heard the sharp inhale of breath as the music became more pronounced.
Sunday looked over, his fingers almost faltering when he felt something wrapping around his ankle. A glance down showed Dan Heng’s tail had slipped from the sofa and wrapped around Sunday, while the man himself had his head back and his eyes closed, his ears and horns twitching as he hummed along to the music. Sunday turned away, a warm feeling in his chest, and continued playing.
FIVE. HIMEKO (AND POM-POM)
On a rare break during this chaos filled journey in Planarcadia, Sunday went to the Party Car. It had been a while since he’d gotten the chance to sit down and unwind by playing a little piano, but he was taking this chance. The train, to his knowledge, was empty. With Caelus and March venturing off with Ashveil to solve some sort of mystery… or were they investigating cases to write about in the Furbo newspaper Caelus was now, somehow, in charge of. Welt was exploring the mecha building stations and Dan Heng must have been spending time with Blade, or was it Yao Guang. He wasn’t quite sure where Himeko was, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was walking the streets of her home, or visiting Graphia Academy.
So, he was going to take advantage of the silence and the empty train to decompress by playing some music. Perhaps it was being on Planarcadia that influenced his choice, but he found himself reaching for some music from Planarcadia’s past that he had buried in the recesses of his mind. He blew metaphorical dust off the memories and tried to remember the notes. As he began playing, he remembered more, the somewhat rough beginning transitioning into beautiful smooth music that brought a smile to his face.
“Oh!” A warm voice interrupted and Sunday’s fingers jolted, accidentally pressing the wrong note. “Sorry!”
“Miss Himeko,” Sunday’s eyes widened. “I was not aware you were on the train.”
“Came in to make a coffee, and I heard your wonderful playing. Was that an old song from Planarcadia?” Himeko’s eyes sparkled as she walked over to the drink station.
“I… yes, it was.” Sunday nodded.
“Not many people know how to play those.”
“I recalled learning it a long time ago, it was simply a matter of performing.” Sunday explained.
“You did wonderfully,” Himeko praised. “Keep playing? Pom-Pom seemed to like it too.”
“The conductor…?” Sunday turned his head to see Pom-Pom following after Himeko.
“Pom-Pom thought this passenger’s music really brought life to the Express.” Pom-Pom nodded, hopping up onto one of the barstools beside Himeko.
“Sure. Any… any requests?” Sunday asked, cautiously.
“Whatever your heart desires, darling.” Himeko smiled, pouring some hot water into a filter and letting the coffee drip down into a cup. She leaned back, hands crossed and gave Sunday her full attention. So, he played. He played whatever his hands itched to in that moment, whatever his mind unconsciously tended towards. He played while Himeko’s coffee brewed, and played still when she sat down by him with a cup filled to the brim and a proud smile on her face.
(Later, when everyone returned to the Express, Himeko boasted – with Sunday’s permission, of course – the wonderful music Sunday had played for her.
“No fair! I wanted to hear Sunny’s playing too, it’s been so long!” March huffed, arms crossed over her chest.
“Me too!” Caelus pouted, hugging a massive plushie close.
“Next time…” Sunday said softly. “Next time, I’ll play for you all.”
And they all beamed.)
PLUS ONE. EVERYONE
After the catastrophe that ensued from Fulwish’s plan, the Express finally got to gather in the Party car and take a breath. It felt nice, for one Sunday felt warm inside, like he belonged somewhere other than Penacony, with people other than his sister. He felt at home.
(In truth, he was the last person to feel this way. Himeko had psuedo-adopted him from the moment he stepped foot on the train. Welt knew he would protect this boy with his life when they spent that time together at Herta’s Space Station. March was convinced when he let her paint his nails and go shopping with her, providing her the same advice he used to give his sister. Caelus was sold when Sunday’s luck got him his first limited five star character in under twenty pity. And Dan Heng… well, he wasn’t quite sure when it happened, but there came a point when the draconian instincts inside him began to recognise Sunday as part of the family.)
“Say… would you play us something, Sunday?” Himeko asked, all soft and fond as she sipped from a steaming teacup.
“Oh, yes please!” March nodded her head aggressively while Caelus just tugged Sunday to his feet to usher him to the piano.
“Any requests?” He murmured, like always.
“Pom-Pom found some old sheet music… from Pegana.” Pom-Pom passed a paper over to Sunday, who took it with reverent hands. Pegana… the homeworld of the Aeon Akivili, where THEY set off from with the Astral Express.
“What a great idea, conductor.” Welt praised.
“Agreed.” Dan Heng nodded, yelping when Caelus yanked him to sit on the bench with Sunday, the grey-haired boy himself sitting on Sunday’s other side. March pouted for a second, not seeing a spot for her before she hopped onto the piano itself, swinging her legs off the edge. Sunday blinked, sent to the past for a second, as he recalled a memory of Robin doing the exact same thing whenever he played. He let out a short breath, blinked away the stinging in his eyes and laid the paper in front of him.
“What if I ruin it?” He asked, soft.
“You won’t,” Himeko assured him. “If you don’t play it exactly as it is, then that’s just the Sunday special, right? No pressure, sweetheart, just play however you want.”
“What she said!” Caelus nodded firmly, and Sunday felt Dan Heng’s tail curl around his ankle. Welt made a sound of agreement and March formed a tiny dove out of ice, laying it in front of him with an encouraging smile.
So, he took a deep breath, put his hands on the keys… and played. His eyes never strayed from the notes in front of him, as they normally didn’t when playing an unfamiliar, new tune. But he found the music was exceptionally easy to play, whether that was because of his experience, or perhaps a blessing of the Trailblaze, he didn’t know. But he played, and he played well. The effect was instantaneous, perhaps that was a blessing of the trailblaze.
It felt like the air was lighter, March hummed along with a grin on her face, feet swinging. Welt and Himeko engaged in a quiet conversation, drinking cups of tea and coffee respectively, and Dan Heng and Caelus were warm, comfortable presences on both of his sides. Even Pom-Pom stayed, perhaps comforted by an old tune he recalled in the recesses of his mind, or just a sense of nostalgia, Sunday didn’t know. But he felt safe, he felt warm, he felt like he was part of something. Allowed the honour of playing music from the Trailblaze Aeon’s home was an incredible thing, and he was glad they all trusted him enough to do that.