Music for chapter: Iggy Pop - The Passenger
The bullet train cut through the countryside carrying them past rolling hills dotted with farmhouses where laundry fluttered on lines like flags. Mountains gave way to rice paddies that shimmered gold in the late afternoon sun, then gradually dissolved into the sprawling embrace of suburbia.
Inside their car, something had shifted. It was the first time in months that nobody looked like they'd been through a blender. No split lips, no dark circles carved under tired eyes. Just four friends on a train, heading home.
Aullie had claimed the window seat and stretched out like he owned the place, long legs sprawled into the aisle, arms tucked behind his head like a pillow. "Alright," he said, grinning at the ceiling, "confession time. I want to hear something mortifying from when you were little. And I mean really mortifying."
Aki's eyes lit up like someone had just offered her free cake. She twisted in her seat to face them all, practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh my god, okay, so picture this, I'm six, right? Tiny little kindergartener with pigtails and everything. Our school's doing this big production, and somehow I convinced them to let me be the fire phoenix." She gestured wildly, hands painting the scene in the air. "I had these enormous paper wings that my mom spent weeks making. They were beautiful, red and orange and gold, with real feathers glued on and everything."
"This is already going somewhere terrible," Sora murmured, but she was smiling.
"So there I am, right? Grand entrance, spotlight blazing, dramatic music playing. I'm supposed to rise from the ashes and spread my wings—" Aki threw her arms wide for demonstration, "—but the stage lights were so hot, and the paper caught fire immediately. Like, whoosh!" She clapped her hands together. "Suddenly I'm actually on fire, screaming like a banshee, running straight into the audience. Ended up Knocking over two teachers, sent them sprawling. My mom still has the video somewhere."
Aullie and Haru both look at each other. almost second hand embarrassed.
"Yep, I remember hearing about that, if only we were all in the same class so I could have seen it, sadly me and Aullie were part of a different play, one that didn't have a flaming toddler." Haru said
"Uh huh, it's too bad, I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that scene." Aullie replied
Sora pressed her hand to her mouth, shoulders shaking. "That... that actually explains so much about you."
"Excuse me, it was a formative artistic experience," Aki huffed, nose in the air. "Some people just don't appreciate true performance art."
Haru was grinning now, that slow, warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Oh man, that was good. But I think I've got you beat." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "When I was seven, I was absolutely convinced I was going to be a professional rice ball sculptor when I grew up."
Aullie's eyebrows shot up. "A what now?"
"You heard me. I spent entire afternoons in our kitchen, crafting these elaborate rice ball masterpieces. I made one that looked exactly like our town mayor, complete with his little mustache made from nori. Mom thought it was so cute she took a picture and sent it to the local newspaper." Haru's cheeks were pink with embarrassment and laughter. "They actually printed it. Front page of the community section. 'Local Boy's Artistic Rice Creation.'"
Aullie was doubled over now, clutching his stomach. "That's…oh my god, a rice ball sculptor?!"
"They have competitions! It's a legitimate art form!"
"It absolutely is not!" Aullie wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes.
"Is too!"
"Is not!"
Sora watched them bicker with that soft, fond expression she got sometimes when she thought nobody was looking. The kind of look that said she was memorizing this moment, filing it away somewhere safe. "Mine's nothing compared to yours," she said quietly when they finally calmed down. "I spent most of my childhood in research labs with my mom. Not exactly a hotbed of embarrassing stories."
Aullie tilted his head, studying her with those glowing green eyes. "Come on, even science kids have disasters. What about experiments gone wrong? Or... I don't know, accidentally creating sentient slime or something?"
She tucked a strand of raven hair behind her ear, thinking. "Well... there was this one time when I was eight. Mom was working on some kind of gravitational field research, and I thought I was being helpful by 'organizing' her equipment." Her lips twitched into a small smile. "Turns out I accidentally reversed the polarity on one of her gravity generators. Our cat, Schrödinger, yes, really, got caught in the field and spent about ten minutes floating around the ceiling, bumping into the fan blades."
Aullie blinked. "That... escalated from zero to absolutely insane very quickly."
"He was fine," Sora added hastily. "Just extremely dizzy and probably traumatized. Wouldn't come out from under the couch for a week."
The laughter that followed was the kind that bubbles up from somewhere deep and warm, the kind that makes your cheeks hurt and your eyes water. It filled the train car like a melody, mixing with the gentle rhythm of wheels on tracks and the distant hum of countryside rolling past.
Eventually, the laughter faded into something softer, a comfortable quiet that settled around them like a well-worn blanket. Outside, the sun was sinking lower, painting everything in shades of amber and rose gold. It was the peaceful moments like this that they all needed right now.
Aki was the first to break it, stretching her arms above her head with a theatrical yawn. "This is my stop coming up," she announced, gathering her bag from the overhead rack. "Mom's already texting me about dinner. If I'm not home in twenty minutes, she's threatening to march down to the academy herself and drag me back by my ear."
"Your mom makes the best curry," Haru said wistfully, standing to grab his own things. "My stop's also the next one. Grandpa's probably already set up the training dummies in the backyard. He gets restless when I'm gone too long."
They exchanged hugs, real ones, the kind that last a few seconds too long and squeeze just a little too tight. Aki ruffled Aullie's hair and whispered something that made him blush and push her out of the cabin. Haru bumped fists with everyone, that gentle giant smile never leaving his face. And then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd on the platform, leaving just Aullie and Sora in the suddenly too-quiet car.
The train pulled away from the stop, and Sora made no move to gather her things.
Aullie glanced at her, head tilted. "Thought you were getting off there too? Isn't your house in that direction?"
She was quiet for a moment, watching the lights of the town fade into darkness. Her reflection in the window looked small and a little lost. "My parents are overseas," she said finally. "Some long-term research project in another region. They'll be gone for another few months, at least." She shrugged, but it looked forced. "I was just trying to figure out if I want to go home to an empty house or take the train back to the dorms."
"By yourself?" The words came out sharper than Aullie intended, and Sora glanced at him in surprise.
"It's fine," she said quickly. "I'm used to it. Besides, I've got a lot of studying to catch up on, and"
"Come home with me."
The words hung in the air between them. Sora's eyes widened, and Aullie felt his cheeks warm, but he pressed on. "I mean it. Mum's been asking about you guys for weeks, she keeps saying I never bring friends around anymore. She'll probably cry actual tears of joy if I show up with someone." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Plus, she's supposedly been experimenting with this new recipe all week. You'd be doing me a favor, if I have to be her test subject one more time, I might not survive."
Sora's smile was small but genuine. "I don't want to impose. Your family time is—"
"Sora." Aullie's voice was gentle but firm. "You're not imposing. Trust me, my mum would actually be offended if she knew I let you spend the evening alone in an empty house. She'll probably try to adopt you on the spot."
For a moment, Sora just looked at him, something unreadable flickering across her face. Then she nodded, slow and sure. "Okay..."
"Fair warning," Aullie said, settling back into his seat with a grin, "you're about to be aggressively mothered. I'm talking homemade cookies, extra blankets, at least three offers to take home leftovers, and probably a twenty-minute lecture about how thin you look."
Sora laughed, a real laugh, bright and surprised. "That sounds... actually really nice."
Outside the window, the world had softened into evening blue, stars just beginning to prick through the velvet sky. The train carried them forward through the darkness, toward warm kitchens and worried mothers and the kind of home that opens its doors without question. And for the first time in a long time, the quiet between them felt like peace.