With A Cherry On Top

Although it was weak, Jackal cracked a smile. That Strawberry Luxe was comfortable enough to run his mouth around him—albeit not without regrets—carried more weight than a verbal declaration of trust. As the other passenger stepped back, he lifted a loose hand.

“No. No running. I like this too much talk.” His smile was wry as he refolded his arms. Strawberry Luxe was right. Had he not changed, Jackal was certain he would never have changed his mind about him. He recalled with no fondness the way the other passenger used to make his hackles rise.

“You are wrong about your relief. It is not awful.” Jackal studied the stretch of tile between them. “If this train party never goes bad… You know what my life is like. So I feel this relief also.” He scratched at his bicep, brow deeply furrowed. Had he not been backed into a corner he might have lived his stolen life until he died.

“You, Red, Sepia, me, and … maybe Shuten-douji—we all grow.” He looked at Strawberry. “If we are trapped anyway, I am glad we are better people when we leave.”

Strawberry relaxed his shoulders and allowed himself to smile. Jackal's practicality was surprisingly comforting, a sort of reminder that there wasn’t much use to thinking too deeply about his situation. The important thing was that he was still here. That they both were, and all the better for it. 

“The me from a month ago would kill me on the spot for ever admitting it, but... you’re right,” Strawberry laughed uncomfortably, an odd mixture of relief and dejection, “Going through absolute hell does have its perks in the end after all, I suppose.” It was impossible to miss who Jackal had deliberately left out of his statement, but now clearly wasn’t the time to bring either of them up. It posed a rather unfortunate statement, though. 

“It’s almost kind of funny looking back on it now,” Strawberry waved slightly, now speaking a little more casually, “How we all acted when we first met, I mean. Sure, none of us could have predicted what we’d be forced into, but between flirting with Red and only barely holding a conversation with Sepia, I never imagined I’d come to consider them both dear friends in some time. I feel like I even understand Shuten-Douji a little more... though, not much.” There was a slight hesitation in his reminiscing, for a pretty obvious reason. Though most of them had changed for the better, certain passengers have since showed their true colors after building what some thought was genuine companionship. Not to mention all the other passengers who hardly got a chance to grow at all. 

“My life… off the train…? I… I don’t know…”

Red hadn’t put much thought into his future recently. The letter he received from Dot painted a picture of safety, but is it even true? Outside of this train will he still be on the run? And what of his parents? They probably think he is dead by now, but…

“I… want to see my parents again, but… I don’t know if I can… There are people outside of this train that may still be looking for me. They may think they still own me…” He sighed, realizing what he was saying might not make sense to Strawberry. “Sorry, let me explain…”

He explained to Strawberry his past. Running away from his high class lifestyle to make a life for himself only to become a tool for a small criminal organization. He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet. What if happiness wasn’t outside this train at all? No… he had to focus on the others well being. His happiness wasn’t important anymore.

“…I just want to make sure you all are taken care of.”

"Is that so? Really, what’re the chances of both of us being hardened criminals?” Strawberry did his best to contain his surprise, but with little success, “Even so, I guess there’s still a world of difference in the kind of work we’ve done.”  He bit his lip slightly, suddenly finding it rather difficult again to make eye contact. As much as he’d like to find one, there wasn’t really any kind of kinship in their backgrounds aside from the initial coincidence.

“As long as you’re with me, you can consider yourself under the protection of the Guillory Family,” Strawberry said, some reservation clearly written on his face, “Of course, that won’t last forever. Once I make my grand exit, I’ll find myself in a similar position. There’s gotta be a more permanent solution... Damn, there’s just so much to do once we finally get off- maybe I should make a list.” Finding himself quickly losing his point, Strawberry snapped back to Red’s attention, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“Anyways, don’t worry too much,” Strawberry said, “Once we get out of here, we can both put that kind of life behind us. Easier said than done, I know, but after this... anything’s gotta be possible, right? And we’ll still have each other, yes?” He cupped Red’s face gently in his hands and smiled, feeling even his own anxieties alleviate just a small bit. 

To Sunny, Dot’s newest ‘bonding activity’ felt like a slap in the face. After all this tragedy, they got some stupid gift? What, were they expected to bond over terrible singing? What a joke. She glowered at the karaoke machine and the others crowding around it, trying to get her feet to move. She wanted to leave, but something was stopping her. The concept of making amends.

Redeeming herself sounded like an idiotic notion when she hadn’t done anything wrong, but in this case it was a smart idea. After everyone’s chastising, she was beginning to realize maybe she had messed up somewhere along the way. …No, no, that was a lie; she knew all along just how badly she had screwed up. She was just now starting to admit it.

She slowly drifted toward the karaoke machine, watching Red mess with it. Why did he keep trying to keep things together? Was it to avoid being a target? She stared him down, so busy trying to pin down his motives that the sudden music made her shriek.

Her hands flew up to her mouth and she looked around, trying to find an exit. Maybe this was a bad idea. But before she could decide to leave, she grabbed the microphone and held it up to her face.

“I’ll start,” she said, her amplified voice echoing through the car. She looked at the karaoke machine and frowned, then moved to change the selection. A few seconds later a new song began to play.

[karaoke time]

But instead of singing, Sunny looked out over the crowd. Normally she didn’t get stagefright, but for some reason being in front of these people she knew so well (yet didn’t know at all – what even were their names?) terrified her. She smiled nervously at them.

“This is okay, right?” she asked, her cheeks red. “I dunno. I know you all hate me, but I just want to… I wanna have fun with everyone again. I know we can’t though, because what I did was sorta bad.”

She sniffled, rubbing her eyes with a hand. She still wasn’t singing.

“Anyway, I hope you won’t hate me for trying, but you all seem to hate me so much I don’t know if that’s possible. But still, don’t throw tomatoes or knives at me, okay?” she continued, and forced herself to laugh. It sounded hollow. “Okay, starting now. And if you don’t like it, then you’re welcome to leave.”

She gave a pointed look to Sepia (although her gaze did seem less fiery than normal) before opening her mouth. And then she scowled, turned to look back at the machine and realized the song was nearly over. Stumbling over to the machine, she reset the song.

[karaoke time (again)]

Right before it restarted she quickly added in, “By the way, I’m, well, Bebe? And this is that one song by Bruno Mars. You’re welcome to join in too if you know it!”

For once she sounded like her old self – energetic and cutesy. Even though she figured everyone knew that was a facade by now, it felt comforting to take it on once again. Maybe she could pretend things were okay, if only for a couple minutes.

Strawberry didn’t join in, but offered a small, polite clap once Sunny finished her performance. It was a difficult few minutes to process all in all, with her mixing in what seemed to be a sort of apology with a small concert. Still, she was making an effort, one that couldn’t have been easy. And if no one acted, it’d probably just end up making things worse for her. 

Luckily, no one was better at setting a mood than Strawberry. 

“Bebe, eh? It suits you,” Strawberry said as he sauntered up and collected the microphone from her. As he faced everyone else, though, he realized for once he truly was at loss for just what to say. It wasn’t as if one song could make everyone forget what Sunny had done, but there really was no reason in his mind to admonish her any further. He realized far too late he had put himself in a difficult situation. 

Ah well, Strawberry didn’t come up here to speak anyways. In a slightly nervous silence, he fiddled with the machine, letting out a small, excited gasp when he finally found a song. “Lucky me,” he input his selection, “I don’t usually sing live, but I’ve been using this song in my performances since it came out.” 

[here we go]

He began singing as soon as the music started, his stage experience becoming immediately clear to his audience. Strawberry’s voice wasn’t trained, but he had an obvious raw talent that suited him well. For the most part though, attention was called to his dancing. As flexible and agile as anyone would have expected, he treated the whole lounge as his stage- climbing on tables, laying on the bar, even tugging on Red’s collar in the moment. There was no denying it: Strawberry Luxe was one hell of a performer. 

With the song coming to an end, Strawberry stood back up onto the stage, visibly red-faced and panting. He adjusted his sweater and combed out his hair before addressing everyone else once more.

Jackal gave a low, thoughtful hum. He could understand the other passenger’s distress. Strawberry had, as he said, nudged them to vote correctly—but so had Sawbones. Arms still folded, he drummed his fingers against his bicep.

“No, Strawberry Luxe. Listen.” Jackal screwed up his face, silent for a few too many seconds as he mulled over his words. It occurred to him then that he should have prepared a statement before holding Strawberry captive.

“I know this guilt. If I want, I can steal the blame,” he said, locking eyes with the other passenger. “It is like this: if there is no shock to stop the doctor from saving Sepia, Neo does not die, Sawbones does not have execution. And if I do not escape my execution, there is no shock. Understand?” Jackal pushed out a breath and steeled himself.

“But this is wrong, like you are wrong. It is Red who tells me that everyone chooses their own vote. The doctor sacrifices himself to save Sepia … but … even so. I vote for him.” He grit his teeth and fixed his eyes on the bat. For a moment, it was hard to speak. There was no telling what Dot might have done had they voted to exonerate Sawbones—considering that had been enough to chase the colour off his face.

“This is the hard choice, but the right choice,” he went on, “and for our choice, we will take good care of the doctor’s family.”

“The right choice, huh...” Strawberry sighed, placing a fist over his mouth and turning away. The words repeated over and over in his head until the phrase threatened to lose all meaning. With a quick motion, he shook his head and glanced back and forth between Jackal and the spring for a few moments. While thankful to get his anxieties about the last trial off his chest, even if just for a short while, it was still an extremely difficult thing to have confronted out loud. 

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a relief to hear you say that,” he began, the hesitation all too clear in his voice, “It’s just... forgive me, but it doesn’t change anything. Having to kill a man like Sawbones to stop more killing- it’s just unfortunate that this is what we’ve been reduced to. Maybe if this had just been a normal party and we all met each outside this awful game...” He paused for a second, not quite finishing his thought. 

“No, I don’t think any of you would have liked me very much. It feels so wrong to say ‘everything happens for a reason’ or whatever, but there’s a part of me that feels a little bit relieved and I know that’s just awful, isn’t it? Even so, even if I hadn’t hopped aboard this train, I may have went my entire life without knowing what it was like to trust someone else with my life. Without knowing what it was like to consider someone a dear friend. And I wouldn’t have... I wouldn’t- Red wouldn’t-” Strawberry instinctively stopped himself from saying any more and took a few steps back from Jackal, almost retreating into himself. 

**********

Shuten-douji claps her hands, laughing. She’s completely forgotten her character. “Very good! Very good!”

“Ah, but if it’s that electric stick you’re looking for…” Shuten-douji looks around the gift shop again, and walks to another column. She digs around for a while before walking back to the boy. 

In her hand, the princess’ feared cattle prod. She twirls it around, and runs a light shock through it. “That’s also here! A completely faithful replica, along with,” she points to the gauge by the handle, “fatal levels of electricity, of course!” she giggles. “My, my, how dangerous!” she continues, waving it around.

Then she slams it onto a shelf, breaking it apart in a single, loud snapping noise. 

Shuten-douji waves the broken cattle prod around. “You should count yourself lucky. Those shocks were nowhere near pretty, even when they aren’t meant to kill.” She shrugs, “But I suppose the warning’s unnecessary.”

Humming, Shuten-douji brings the broken prod close to her face. “Say, what do you think would happen if I stick cute little Dorothy with one of these?” she grins wildly.

It’s a joke, of course. Mostly. She laughs and tosses the prod aside. 

As Shuten waved the prod around, Strawberry couldn’t help but step back slightly. Not so much out of fear, but instinct. He wasn’t afraid of Shuten, but the woman was unpredictable- to say the absolute least. Companionable as she may be, there was still a clear note of anxiety in seeing her wave around the previous Dot’s weapon. 

“Ah...,” Strawberry quietly let out a sigh of relief when Shuten snapped the prod in half, “Oh, I’ve no complaints about avoiding Dot’s wrath. After all, I’ve been a good boy~” He paced a finger over his lips and smiled. Context clues would say he was referring to his previous act of sneaking into Director’s room, but this was Strawberry. He could be referring to any number of things. 

When he saw what the other passenger was wearing today, Jackal could not help but crack a smile. Between his fluffy white sweater and his repurposed crown, Strawberry Luxe looked as cartoonishly regal as his least favourite Dot.

“No, no. I will stop. This is bad habits.” The Russian rested the end of the bat on the ground and spun it idly by its handle. It skittered unevenly against the tile. He was halfway through parsing out what the other passenger had meant about church when Strawberry advised him not to think about it. Jackal obliged without another thought.

“You sound like … you never have a splinter. Is this true?” There was a crinkle about his eyes as Jackal squinted. He didn’t have enough hands to count the splinters he had gotten over the course of his life, but he guessed that most of them came before he changed his name. He spun the bat again. This time the nails screeched against the wet tile. Jackal winced and set it down.

“So. Strawberry Luxe. Important question.” He folded his arms and tilted his chin up. “How are you?”

“There aren’t many trees where I come from,” Strawberry answered, “So no, not that I recall. Of course, a splinter seems rather insignificant once you’ve been... ah, never mind.” Poor choice of words. Of course Jackal would know better than he would what childhood injuries are like. Certain it was a topic neither of them wanted to delve into, Strawberry was quick to answer the next question. 

“Oh, I’ve been better,” he said, laughing a bit, “Is that too predictable?” Strawberry mimicked Jackal’s more serious stance as he thought about just what to say. 

“Truthfully, I can’t help but feel a little awful. As if it was my doing that convinced everyone that Sawbones should have died, but that isn’t what I wanted. It’s just... we’re so close to getting off this train. To put everyone in even more danger with these awful punishments and to have Dot hanging on our shoulders-- I just couldn’t.” He couldn’t help but wince as he thought back to how the previous Dot used Red as an example. If things were to have gotten any worse...

“Hehe, I guess you’re right. In that case…”

Red took a deep breath and looked around the room. It was strange, saying someone else’s name when they weren’t being escorted off the train to face death… Treating them like a normal person. Red wondered what it would have been like meeting Strawberry outside of this train.

“It’s… uhm… Nice to meet you, Shaw. Shaw… Guillory?” He let out a sigh of relief as Strawberry’s forbidden true name left his mouth. Shaw… He wasn’t sure what type of name he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that. Red offered his hand to Strawberry and smiled.

“Roland Kincaid. I guess this means we’re real people now and not just… weird anonymous participants in a scary murder game.”

Red laughed, trying his best to ignore the weight of their situation. What Strawberry said did just the thing to take his mind off of it, thankfully. This crime family… He knew a bit about Strawberry’s background, but no strong details. This seemed like as good a time as any.

“Mmm… Shaw, what was your life like before this? You have these connections, but… I guess I don’t really know any details about this family you came from. Ah! Y-You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to though! “

“The pleasure’s all mine, ah... Roland.” Despite his earlier confidence, Strawberry found himself hesitating a bit before getting Red’s real name out. It just felt so much more... intimate than he had been expecting. In a good way, of course. For a moment, he remembered all the times he had admonished himself for growing closer to Red, but try as he may, he could find no regrets.

“My family, eh? Let’s see... Jeez, where do I begin?” Strawberry scratched his head, realizing just now he’s never had to explain his history like this before, “I’m sure you know by now that the Guillory Family’s done some pretty bad stuff. They’ve ruled the New York underworld for generations upon generations, so I’ve been told. “Family” is a pretty loose term to us, though- we’re not all related by blood. But my mother personally runs the whole show, so that makes me her heir. Of course, that means I’ve been up close and personal with all our dealings: extortion, smuggling, espionage, even assassinations. I’ve been professionally trained to use a gun since I was a child, and I’ve used one more times than I care to count. I think it’s best I spare you the details.” 

“Playing this game made me realize something, though. I always felt so untouchable with my family behind me. I never failed at what I did, but being here has made me feel so... so mortal. I realized I didn’t want my entire life to be a game of life and death. I don’t know exactly what I want just yet, but what’s important now is protecting the ones I care about. Before now, I never had anyone like that. Anyone close to me was just associating with me because of status, or out to kill me the first chance they got. But I’ve made friends now. Real friends.” Strawberry couldn’t help but wince at his own corniness. It was clear he was still getting used to this. 

“My father... he wasn’t cut out for it. He was killed when I was only a toddler, after failing miserably at a heist he had planned. My mother said he was a failure, not worth of the Guillory name. She never mourned him, and I was never allowed to either. I didn’t think about him much before now, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I would be remembered the same way if something happened to me here. I just can’t go back to a life like that, not after everything I’ve been through. I have... new priorities.” He shot a quick glance at Red, before looking away again, blushing and fiddling with his sweater.

“Apparently the police have been closing in on us, but it’s no matter. We’ve got networks all over the country, and I’ve got preparations in place for just the occasion. It won’t be as simple as making a few phone calls, but I’ll find Allen’s family. I made a promise, after all.” 

Red stood up and took the box in his hands, 

“Huh?”

He rose the box to his ear and shook it softly to see if he could tell what was inside… No dice. He looked a bit pensive, but there wasn’t any harm in receiving a gift from his friend right? It was only Strawberry. He could trust him.

“W-Wait, hold on. Are you serious? You want me to know this? This is… like… a lot, ya know!”

After opening the box and seeing the true meaning behind the gift, Red was at a bit of a loss. He had given Sepia his real name, but never expected anyone to give him theirs… What was he supposed to do?

“This… means a lot, too. Do you really trust me this much?”

Strawberry couldn’t help but laugh. It may have looked a bit insincere in the face of Red’s earnestness, but in the end Strawberry could only find him as cute as ever- in the most well-meaning way possible, of course.

“Of course I trust you that much. After everything we’ve been through together, how could I not?” Strawberry absentmindedly played with the fluff on his sweater, suddenly feeling a bit more self-conscious than usual. “Besides, it’s just a name. Under any other circumstances, it’d be the first thing you ask for, right?”

**********

The gift shop… seems quite fun, in varying senses of the word. The fancy train’s cute souvenirs aside, for one. Shuten-douji is smiling as she takes a small train in her hand, and pockets it.

In the corner of her eye, she notices someone else having fun in the gift shop, and this time with little Dorothy’s numerous outfits. Dear Strawberry. Well, she can’t blame him. 

“Hee hee, you seem to be enjoying yourself,” she giggles. “Indeed, it does look better on you. Would you mind taking over little Dorothy’s duties as well?”

She taps a finger on her chin, looking around. Shuten-douji spots the bow once worn by a dark Dot of past. She puts it over her head, clearing her throat.

“Please,” she mutters, her voice low and tired. “I have had quite… enough. Of these ‘honored guests.’ …Take over and suffer these idiots in my place, and…” Shuten-douji sighs, and looks around. 

“…And you can have this… limited edition Echo Express bikini. It is of great quality… I guess.”

“Dare I say a splitting image,” Strawberry quipped, hardly stifling his laughter. “I fear we’ll putting our dearest Dorothy out of a job soon.” Straightening his crown, he stood up tall and and put his hand under his chin in a familiar fashion. 

“Ohohohohoho,” Strawberry mimicked the laugh of the former Dot with an eery accuracy, “Filthy swine! You will be punished for mocking your princess! You will spend the rest of the life...” he quickly looked around before grabbing one the coveted limited edition swimsuits, “...polishing my swimsuit collection! Or is this too much of a reward for a lowly peasant like yourself?” And with that, he tossed the swimsuit onto the ground without a second thought. 

“My, I fear it’s not quite as convincing without a supercharged cattle prod of my own,” Strawberry held a finger under his chin in contemplation, “You know, I never got shocked by that thing, myself. But I suppose I should just be thankful this Dot isn’t armed.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a slight whisper. 

If ever there was a time to fight, it was now. This train had trapped them for long enough. Jackal hefted the bat in his hand and watched its nails catch the light. Seven on one—the odds weren’t terrible, but they could not claim strength in numbers for much longer. A few feet from the water’s edge, the Russian raised his weapon.

“Дни и ночи будем биться,” he breathed. The bend in his knees was gentle as he drew back. His shoe squeaked against the damp tile. Jackal gave the weapon a hard swing, and with half a smile he watched tendrils of steam curl in its wake.

“Пики с пиками скрестя,” he continued in a tuneless hiss, and brought the bat up again. “И не смыть ее дождями.” Like keys under his hands, like his language rolling off his tongue, like the grey sea and the cold snap of snow, this was something that brought him all the way home. Comforted, Jackal swung again. “И … не рассушить ветрами.”

He swallowed at the lump in his throat and laughed to himself. Had he not been exonerated for his crime, the doctor would never have been confronted with that choice. Harley and Sawbones had deserved executions no more than he had. Jackal clicked his tongue. Although there was nothing to be gained by looking back, some thoughts could not be chased away.

With measured steps, he crossed the room to stop before a tree. When he looked closely he could see the face of an old, discarded friend. Something sick bloomed in his throat. Jackal raised his weapon.

“Кровь,” he spat through gritted teeth, “рабочих … и … крестьян.”

Chips of bark flew as the Russian hammered at the tree. As far as he was concerned, it was Fennec’s face he was driving nails into. Sweat was beading at his hairline when he looked up. Someone was standing in the doorway.

“How long … are… When do you… No.” Jackal ran the back of his hand across his brow. “Never mind.” He let the end of the bat hit the floor. His gaze flitted from one end of the room to the other as he hunted down a new subject—anything to draw attention away from his mangled tree.

“Oh, don’t feel the need to stop on my account,” Strawberry waved dismissively. Of course, he didn’t intend to linger as he had, but there was no clearly no interrupting the man. Besides, it was quite the show, wasn’t it?

“Actually, I was just passing by on the way back to the cabins... but suddenly I feel it’s in my best interest to visit that church I’ve heard so much about,” Strawberry tugged at the sleeves of his fluffy sweater, not the best outfit for a soiree in the hot springs, “Don’t think too much about that sentence.” Despite his garb, though, Strawberry continued to idle in the car, walking over to examine the number Jackal had done on the tree. The way he swung his bat reminded Strawberry of the way his family’s hired muscle would make a mess of unreliable or uncooperative patrons. Of course, he wouldn’t say that out loud. 

Sunny had never been very religious. She attended church only on Easter and Christmas, and that was about it. But despite all the tragedies happening around her, she had no inclination of changing her religious habits. To pray now seemed like a waste of time. If they were going to be saved, they would’ve been by now.

Nevertheless, she eventually found herself in the church car. Her head had been pounding ever since Sawbones’ death and she needed a dim room to think. He had been stabbed right through the chest, over and over. And though she said he deserved it, was that actually true? In hindsight, Sepia was more the guilty party. If only she had died instead.

She visibly winced at her own morbid thoughts. Maybe death wasn’t fair to anyone. (Or maybe it was?) Her racing mind was driving her crazy, as was the loneliness. The train kept getting emptier, Sunny growing lonelier. If only there was a way to redeem herself… But no, that was ridiculous. If she acted like nothing was wrong now, people would get even angrier at her.

Which, if you thought about it, wasn’t fair at all.

With a sigh, she walked towards the podium at the front of the car. Situated on it was a bible. She frowned. Even if she wanted to read it, the lighting was too dim. Maybe that was another reason why she was here – so she couldn’t read Neo’s journal. She’d been looking over it all day, but rereading it now would only make her headache worse.

It’d probably make her feel worse too, if that was even possible. She kept staring at the bible and anger began to rise up in her. She started shaking. What type of god thought it was okay to ruin people’s lives like this? Everyone kept dying, and she was stuck aboard with no way off. This was terrible! It was so unfair!

As her mind whirled, Sunny picked up the book before her and raised it into the air. She then pitched it at the windows with all the strength she could muster, yelling as she did so. It thudded against it, before pathetically dropping to the floor. If she was going to cry, now would be the time.

But no tears came. Instead, she was snapped out of her anger upon seeing movement out of the corner of her eye. She had an audience.

“Nothing, really. I was just thinking how much of a shame it is I didn’t pack my bedazzled nun costume. It really would have been perfect for this place,” Strawberry said in reply, doing his best to ignore whatever it was he had just witnessed. There was still a lot to process about Sunny, after all. Perhaps she was just as evil and tactless as Fennec, or perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps she truly regretted her actions, or perhaps she didn’t. She’d already displayed that she was willing to get her own hands dirty early on, so why cower behind her boyfriend now? It was in Strawberry’s best interest to stay as far away from Sunny as possible, but he was far too preoccupied with these questions to care. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to lecture you on Murder Ethics 101 or anything,” Strawberry placed a hand on his hip, his other preemptively curled into a protective fist at his side, “If you’d really like to know my feelings on that, you can just ask Fennec. It may put him in a bad mood though, so I wouldn’t recommend it. For the time being, I’ll just assume you aren’t hiding a knife in your ponytail.” With that out of the way, he sauntered over the frontmost pew, taking a seat with his legs crossed and a hand under his chin. 

Red stared at the long knife in his hand. He was reminded of Chamomile standing in the same spot preparing herself for what was to come. Now, what felt like years later, he was doing the same thing. He had promised not to let anyone else get hurt, and he fully intended to keep that promise.

He thought he had shed off the fear holding him back, but that wasn’t right. He hadn’t gotten rid of it. It was instead transforming into something else entirely. His fear fueled him and made him brave. He was ready to face anything for the sake of his friends.

“Maybe it won’t come to that.”

But of course it would. It had four times before this, and with two ticking time bombs still on the train… Something could happen at any moment. He followed Chamomile’s lead, placing the knife in his boot and hiding it from view. 

–

[ x ]

Red stared at the large window in the Observatory tapping his foot impatiently. His eyes darted around the window, not looking at the beautiful scenery outside, but the window itself. He approached it and began tapping at different sections of the framing with his knuckles.

“…What gives?”

He was sure something about this wasn’t right. He had been in this car more often than any other, and enjoyed the view from the back end of the train time and time again. It was only just now occurring to him that something felt incredibly wrong about it all. How had he been so complacent? No wonder the Director was investigating so heavily… This train was unnatural. 

“Haaah… You couldn’t have done this sooner, Red? I mean, seriously…”

He knelt down and continued to tap away and investigate around the window as the door opened behind him. His head whipped to the side and his hand went straight for his boot as he looked at the passenger approaching. He didn’t care who it was. He had to be prepared.

“You know-” Strawberry cut himself off before he even began. Considering his current state, Strawberry had intended to give Red some of his patented self-defense advice, but he was reminded of the fact both people had had advised were attacked immediately afterwards. One even killed. “Actually... never mind.” 

In-Stream Commission from Session 08-07-2017 for Taybiornottaybi.