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"Mr. Yang! How did you and that stinky raccoon run so fast!? You just left me and Dan Heng in the dust! That's SO not cool!"
March laid out all of her accusations to the holographic images of Welt and Stelle. Her hands were on her hips and she tapped her foot impatiently.
"Hm? It's just you and Dan Heng?” Welt asked, gently. “Sunday's not here?"
The feigned innocence only served to rile her up even more.
"He said the General's treating him to dinner,” Dan Heng replied on her behalf, before March could start huffing and puffing. “So he'll be eating out tonight. Long story short, he also bailed."
He shot a critical glance over at Stelle, who hurriedly defended herself.
"First of all, we weren't running off anywhere,” Stelle shot back. “We were simply... conducting field research on the local customs and culture of Planarcadia."
March couldn't take it anymore.
"Alright, you two head on home! Himeko said she's not cooking tonight!”
She panned the camera around to show a completely empty kitchen, with the exception of Dan Heng, in an apron, and seemingly ready to cook.
His expression didn't change even after the camera was shoved closer to his face.
“Dan Heng's taking over the kitchen today!” March announced. “Exciting, right?"
"March, we're all adults here,” Stelle said, patronizingly. “You really think we'd skip town just to dodge something like that? You're underestimating Mr. Yang."
Mr. Yang had nothing to say. Probably because he really did skip town just to dodge something like that.
And March 7th knew it.
"You're obviously just throwing a tantrum!” March exclaimed, as if Stelle was a runaway child refusing to eat her veggies. “Just come home already!"
"I keep telling you, we're all adults here..."
"So?"
"...So you need to get her words in writing,” Stelle declared. “Otherwise, we're not going back. Period.”
The call abruptly ended, and their holographic figures fizzled out. The blank screen reflected March's offended expression.
“That stinky racoon!” March complained. “So much for the three of us sticking together. All that talk about field research was just a cover up!”
Dan Heng shook his head.
“Getting it in writing is not gonna happen…”
“Ugh! Stelle and her written documentation!” March sighed. “Just because she manages a museum, Xianzhou courier logistics, a hotel, a restaurant, and a magazine, does NOT mean she has to treat everything like some corporate process!”
March 7th slumped over the counter in defeat.
“Those are all very valid reasons to get into the habit of documentation,” Den Heng told her. “You'd be less of a scatterbrain if you picked up the same habit.”
“Eheh… anyway. I guess it's just you and me for dinner tonight.” March said, brightly. “Dan Heng, it's your time to shine!"
Dan Heng sighed at how easily the topic was put to rest.
“...I'll make extra portions in case they're hungry when they get back.”
March sat down on a bar stool and began swinging her feet. She watched as Dan Heng turned the tap on to wash his hands under the cool water.
“So what's on the menu tonight, Chef Dan Heng?”
“I'm fine with anything for dinner. Why don't you pick, March?”
March 7th beamed and answered excitedly.
“Startaro Bubble Tea!!”
“Nevermind,” Dan Heng said, unimpressed. “I do have a preference after all.”
“Hey, you said I could pick,” March pouted. “No take backs.”
“I never said I wasn't going to make it,” Dan Heng teased. “But you'll need more than just bubble tea. What about… fried fowl and a side of cosmic fried rice? Or if you don't mind waiting, I could make chili oil beef offal stew?”
March looked at him incredulously.
“I thought you didn't like deep fried stuff or things that were too spicy? Remember when we were making those promos for the Astral Express KFC collab? You looked like you didn't enjoy their products at all!”
“That was just my stoic expression,” Dan Heng explained, flustered. “You know I'm not a picky eater.”
Of all the things March actually remembers, it tended to be foolish details of his likes and dislikes.
“Besides, the taste may pair well together. You said so yourself: Mmm, this is awesome! A sweet drink with crispy, spicy fried chicken is the best!”
Dan Heng recited it all a little too perfectly from memory.
“That fake March-impersonation voice sure is convincing,” March said, dismayed. “That really does sound like something I would say.”
Although Dan Heng said he'd be fine with anything, March knew that he really meant it would be nothing he'd complain about. But just because someone won't complain, doesn't mean they deserve experiences they don't like.
“Well… why not make whatever you'd make if you were just cooking for yourself?” March suggested. “Just the Startaro is probably enough to make me full anyway. I'm already getting what I want.”
“Hm… got it.”
Dan Heng nodded and got to work.
A comfortable silence swept over them. The clinking of ice as it was poured, the steady chop chop chop of a knife against the cutting board, and the lazy slosh of cloudhymn rinsing the rice… These were the all too familiar sounds of home.
March flicking through her phone, idly swiping away surrounded by the comforting sounds.
The Startaro bubble tea was served first, but to her surprise, there were two glasses.
“You made one for yourself?” March asked.
“That one doesn't have sugar in it,” Dan Heng replied. “Or pearls for that matter. You probably wouldn't like it.”
That's new.
March thought that Dan Heng wasn't the sort of person who would choose to drink these kinds of drinks. Even with the modifications. In fact, when asked what his recommendations for Loufu cuisine were, he had said water.
But then again, recently he'd taken a liking to mung bean soda and was even seen drinking slushies from the Stellaron Hunters. Maybe it was less about the flavour, and more about what he associated with the drink.
It must be memories!
All of Stelle's jokes about mung bean soda, and all of March's excitement over mixing juice and ice… could the experiences they had in the past enhance similar experiences today?
March took a sip.
It was hardly restaurant-quality milk tea, but it tasted delicious. Of course, its because Dan Heng is the one making it!
“Maybe that's why your cooking always tastes so good,” March giggled.
Dan Heng looked up from the wok to give her attention.
“Do you think Miss Himeko actually loves us?” March asked, suddenly.
“How on earth did you arrive at this topic?” Dan Heng responded back in a worried tone.
“If memories had a flavour,” March said, without missing a beat. “How come Himeko's cooking tastes awful when we have such good memories of her? What happened to love being a secret ingredient? If we made more loving memories with her, would she become a better cook?”
“I suppose traces of memoria can exist anywhere,” Dan Heng mused. He continued to cook. “But even for someone sensitive to it, that wouldn't be enough to compensate for the… questionable… additions to her cooking.”
“Speaking of which, where did Miss Himeko go?” March asked. “It's not like her to suddenly decide not to cook…”
“She said there was an emergency in the engine room,” Dan Heng replied. “The conductor is there helping her out with it. It sounded like it would take some time to resolve.”
“The engine room,” March repeated. “Sounds pretty serious.”
Dan Heng hummed in agreement.
“Sigh… I heard she studied all about this kind of thing in school,” March babbled on. “Do you think that if I tried hard enough, I could also make a train fly across the galaxy? Instead of silver rails, I'm thinking pink. Or maybe I'd use six-phased ice and it would go even faster than the Astral Express. I'd call it… the March Express!”
“You could get a hands-on lesson if you visited the engine room right now,” Dan Heng suggested, amused.
“On second thought, I'll just wait for dinner,” came March's inevitable response. “You can't learn on an empty stomach.”
“You don't have to wait any longer. It's right here.”
True to his words, the dishes were complete and the hot dinner was served.
“That was quick. Master Chef Dan Heng, you're the best!”
March looked down at her bowl.
Stir-fried tomato and egg. White rice. A side of dry-fried long beans.
It was very simple.
“That's a classic and humble Xianzhou dinner, alright.” March remarked.
“I can make something else if it's not to your liking,” Dan Heng offered.
“You worry too much,” March reassured him. “Anything you make tastes great. Come on, let's eat!”
March patted at the stool beside her in a welcoming gesture and Dan Heng settled in with his own bowl. He waited for the dish to cool, while she dove in first.
Dan Heng watched as she took a bite; first, one of the long beans, then a heaping spoonful of the egg and tomato with rice.
“How is it?” Dan Heng asked.
“Googh,” came March's muffled response. She gave a thumbs up.
“Chew first before speaking,” Dan Heng reprimanded.
March swallowed.
“You're the one who asked me with my mouth full,” she complained. “Geez, can't a girl enjoy her dinner in peace around here?”
She took another resolute bite, this time determined to not reply to Dan Heng's rage baiting.
Dan Heng smiled.
“I'm kidding. It's good to know you also enjoy simple dishes like this.”
“Mm… What are your plans after this?”
“I was just going to catch up on some reading. Did you have something in mind?”
“I was thinking of bothering you while you read,” March said innocently.
“So the usual, then?” Dan Heng sighed.
March beamed.
“Just the way you like it!”
—
The telltale whir of the data bank doors opening startled Dan Heng out of his sleep.
His first thought was that one of the girls had barged in unannounced again, and was confused when he opened his eyes to grey-brown hair.
He found himself slumped over the shoulders of a familiar man.
“Um… Mr. Yang?” Dan Heng asked.
“Hm? You're awake.”
Dan Heng looked up to see the door to March's room was still open. Inside, Stelle was tucking her in bed.
He understood. He must have fallen asleep while reading in the Parlour Car.
“Sorry, this was–” Dan Heng struggled to orient himself while being given a piggyback ride and failed miserably. “This was very unbecoming of me. I apologize for the inconvenience I've caused.”
He gracelessly stepped out of Welt's hold.
“No need to apologize,” Welt said. “You kids need your rest.”
Dan Heng, who hatched 3 decades ago, whose consciousness traversed for a thousand years, and whose general existence began in an indeterminate number of Amber Eras past, looked at him.
“I’m hardly a child anymore, Mr. Yang.”
Welt chuckled.
“You know this reminds me of when you first joined the Express.”
Dan Heng followed his gaze to the cot on the floor.
“Even though we urged you to take breaks, you'd keep working on the data bank until you fell asleep. Day after day… Himeko and I would come in each time to bring you a blanket. Ah. Thinking back, maybe we were enabling your habits in sleeping here.”
“Mr. Yang…” Dan Heng began, embarrassed.
“It occurred to me that the last time I had brought you a blanket was far too long ago… And it may have been the last.”
Welt reached out to ruffle Dan Heng's hair, but stopped mid-reach. He smiled longingly.
“Forgive an old man for wanting to reminisce. As you grow older, the chances to take care of you grow less and less. Perhaps I just wanted to tuck you in one more time.”
Dan Heng was overcome with an emotion that he couldn't quite name.
“I…”
Dan Heng didn't know what to say. Time took away those moments were he childishly fell asleep anywhere, but perhaps growing up also felt like a loss to the people who cared for him like a parent.
“...I understand,” Dan Heng decided.
To have outgrown being cared for–
“If,” Dan Heng felt his face grow hot at the words he was about to say. “If it's just this once…”
–doesn't necessarily mean it was a bad thing to receive the care he'd outgrown.
Welt understood.
They stepped into the calming darkness of a data bank, the soft glow of its lights pulsating and lulling him to slumber. His shoes were discarded, coat set aside, and he slipped into the cot.
Dan Heng hoped the darkness would hide the heat of his cheeks as he was tucked in.
“Good night, Dan Heng.”
“...Goodnight, Mr. Yang.”