Chapter 37: No Wife in Wife Cakes, No Pie in Cow Dung Pies
"Hey! Do you guys want to come check out my room? Maybe it'll give you some inspiration for designing your own!"
March 7th issued the invitation with overflowing enthusiasm, her bright pink eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Sure!"
Stelle perked up instantly, her usual deadpan expression cracking into a look of genuine excitement. The prospect of visiting the personal sanctuary of a cute girl like March was an absolute win in her book.
"I'll leave you young ones to your fun, then. Enjoy yourselves." Himeko offered a warm, elegant smile, lifting her coffee cup slightly as she watched the energetic group head off down the corridor.
The trio followed March down the sleek, carpeted hallway of the Astral Express passenger cabin. The space was significantly more expansive than Leon remembered from his past life's screen. Instead of a cramped train car, the guest cabin felt like a high-end luxury hotel, with each door leading to a massive, fully independent suite.
"Welcome to my little world, ta-da!"
March threw open her door with a theatrical flourish, stepping aside to proudly show off her domain. "How is it? Not bad, right? I put a whole lot of thought into decorating this place!"
Leon stepped inside, a knowing smile playing on his lips. The layout struck a chord of nostalgia, yet the sheer scale of the physical space was stunning. The room was bathed in a fresh, dreamlike palette of soft pinks, pristine whites, and gentle blues.
To the right sat a massive, plush bed draped in high-quality sheets patterned with golden stars and swirling galaxies. The entire left wall had been converted into a sprawling mosaic of memories. Hundreds of photographs hung suspended on glowing strings—everything from goofy, blurry selfies to stunning, wide-angle shots of alien landscapes March had captured across various worlds.
Yet, the absolute centerpiece of the room was resting on the wide windowsill: a gigantic, incredibly fluffy lop-eared rabbit plushie.
"Wow! This plushie..." Stelle gravitated toward it immediately, her hands twitching with the urge to squeeze the stuffing out of it.
"Oh, you mean this guy!" March bounded over and scooped up the massive toy, hugging it against her chest. "Originally, I wanted to custom-order a plushie that looked exactly like Pom-Pom. But the Conductor strictly forbade it! So, I had to settle for a lop-eared rabbit instead."
She offered a playful wink. "Don't you think it still looks a little bit like Pom-Pom, though?"
As she shifted her weight, the plushie's long, floppy ears swayed back and forth, undeniably mimicking the Conductor's iconic silhouette.
"Now that you mention it, the resemblance is definitely there," Caelus agreed, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"That's an easy fix. Allow me." Leon stepped forward with a casual grin. He extended a single index finger and lightly tapped the center of the rabbit's forehead.
A soft, iridescent ripple of light washed over the fabric. The cotton shifted, the colors bled and reformed, and in the blink of an eye, the generic rabbit had morphed into a perfectly detailed, oversized replica of Pom-Pom.
"Whoa! Your ability is way too convenient! You can even transmute a plushie?" March's eyes widened into saucers, her hands squeezing the newly formed Pom-Pom replica in sheer delight.
"Just don't let the real Pom-Pom catch you with it," Leon laughed, leaning against the doorframe. "Otherwise, you might find yourself on cleaning duty for the next century."
"I know, I know!" March nodded vigorously, her pink hair bouncing. "I clean the guest room myself anyway, and Pom-Pom only does inspection rounds once every weekend. I'll just stuff it in the closet before then!"
She nuzzled the plushie, absolutely refusing to let it go. The previous rabbit had been cute, but having a giant, squishy version of the Conductor was a dream come true.
"Oh? Pom-Pom actually does weekend room inspections?" Leon asked, genuinely amused by the domestic trivia.
"Yeah! Apparently, a long time ago, a Trailblazer left their room in such a catastrophic mess that it attracted a massive swarm of space bugs. It caused a full-blown insect infestation right here in the carriage!" March shuddered dramatically, waving her free hand. "Ever since that disaster, Pom-Pom instituted the mandatory weekly inspection rule to force everyone to keep their spaces tidy."
Stelle and Caelus nodded slowly, trying to process the idea of space bugs on a luxury train.
Leon, however, felt a flicker of realization. An insect infestation? His mind immediately drifted to the Swarm Disaster and the True Stings. It seemed the Express Crew's inevitable clash with the Swarm was a fixed point in the near future.
"Hey, wait a minute! What are you two doing?!" March's voice suddenly spiked an octave.
While she had been busy explaining her room's history, Stelle and Caelus had silently drifted into the corner. Both of them were currently squatted down, staring intensely into her wastebasket.
"Ah... there's actually no trash in here," Stelle muttered, her voice heavy with deep, soul-crushing disappointment.
"Indeed," Leon chimed in, walking over to place a solemn hand on Stelle's shoulder. He looked at the empty bin with absolute gravity. "A trash can without trash is like a wife cake without a wife, or a cow dung pie without the pie. It just feels horribly hollow. Something vital is missing."
"I take the trash out on time every single day, so of course there's no stock left!" March threw her hands up, caught somewhere between utter exasperation and sheer amusement. "I am a beautiful, delicate girl! I would never let my trash can get all gross and sticky! And more, what is wrong with you people?! Why are you rummaging through my garbage?!"
She paused, her brain finally catching up to Leon's nonsense. "Wait... what the heck is a 'cow dung pie without the pie'?!"
Ever since Stelle had boldly declared her intention to forge her own path of Trailblaze, she had developed an inexplicable, almost religious obsession with trash receptacles. March simply could not wrap her head around it. Was the grand path of Trailblaze really just digging through garbage?
"And besides!" March continued her frantic complaining, pointing an accusing finger at Leon. "It is completely normal for a wife cake to not have a wife inside it! That's just a pastry name! And if a cow dung pie doesn't have a pie, isn't that literally just pure cow dung?!"
Leon chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the way he had riled her up. "You really have a gift for words, March. I like making friends with people who can spit fire like that. In fact, I've just sent you a friend request. Please reject it."
"What do you mean, 'please reject it'?!" March sputtered, but the sheer absurdity of the conversation finally broke her composure, and she burst into a fit of bright, ringing laughter.
As the laughter subsided, the playful atmosphere in the room slowly shifted. The bright amusement on March's face gradually gave way to a quiet, serious expression. She hugged the Pom-Pom plushie a little tighter against her chest.
"By the way... I've actually always wanted to ask you something," she began, her voice dropping to a softer register. "When we first met, you said you were my fan. Was that true? Where did you get to know me? Do you... do you know about my past?"
Her voice carried a fragile, cautious expectation.
Ever since she had awakened from the drifting Six-Phased Ice, March 7th knew absolutely nothing about her own history. Who she originally was, what her real name was, where she had come from—all those memories had vanished without a single trace.
Her current life was undeniably warm. The train that had happened to pass by, the kind companions who took her in, the peaceful home they provided—she cherished all of it. But even as she memorized every detail of her new surroundings, her own self-awareness remained a total, terrifying blank.
She understood the world around her, yet she knew nothing about herself. Who was she? Where did she come from?
March still vividly remembered those early days after waking up. She would stand in front of the mirror, trying on the various outfits Himeko had thoughtfully prepared for her, silently weaving countless elaborate backstories for herself in her mind.
Which one of those stories was the real her? Which past was actually worthy of her? She couldn't be sure.
But Leon likely knew the answer. That was what her intuition was screaming at her.
After all, she hadn't been traveling with the Express for very long, and she certainly wasn't famous among the wider universe of Trailblazers. Yet Leon had collected stickers of her. He even knew about a version of her with a similar appearance but entirely different details—the Long Night Moon.
All of these clues made it impossible for her to stop guessing. Leon might truly understand her origins.
"What's this about?" Stelle and Caelus stood up from the trash can, looking at March with genuine curiosity.
"Oh, it's nothing major. Just talking about my past." March waved her hand, suddenly looking a bit bashful under their combined stares.
"When I first woke up from the ice, I opened my eyes and saw this beautiful cluster of starlight. I instinctively reached out to grab it—only to realize it was just the ceiling light of the carriage." She reminisced, a soft, self-deprecating smile touching her lips. "The entire Astral Express Crew was standing right there, watching me do it. That scene was so embarrassing."
"You woke up from ice?" Stelle asked, her eyes widening in surprise.
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