Please, My Other Self

Ear feathers were the most sensitive and fragile part of the Halovian body, as everyone knew.

At that moment, Sunday's breathing was ragged and his face flushed. He did his best to suppress the faint currents of electricity flashing through his body from having his ear feathers touched.

"Trailblazer, you're drunk. Hurry, let go..."

His waist had already gone limp, and he collapsed loosely onto the bed. Only his arms could still weakly support him, keeping him from falling over in complete disarray.

"Sunday, your ear feathers feel really nice. Can I take off my gloves and touch them?"

The Trailblazer's eyes were misty, reflecting a golden sea. Sunday's unnatural pale blush was mirrored in pupils steeped in drunkenness.

What was this supposed to be...

Sunday pressed his lips together.

Wanting to touch a Halovian's ear feathers was no different from wanting to touch the fluff balls atop a Pompom's head, wasn't it?

At that thought, Sunday's expression suddenly turned a little strange.

He had been away from Penacony for some time, and some memories had gradually faded.

Now, following the threads of reality, those memories were slowly becoming clear again.

Sunday remembered.

Back when he was still in Penacony, when he was the head of the Oak Family.

At the time, Pompons throughout the streets had fiercely denounced a certain unruly dreamer, saying that someone had been outrageously rude enough to lay hands on the fluff balls atop Pompons' heads. It was an unforgivable crime!

Sunday had intended to handle the case the moment he received the complaints, but before the truth could come to light, he had already left Penacony.

Come to think of it, how had the Pompons described the culprit?

A very offensive human. They could not see what she looked like because she was too tall, but her one distinguishing feature was a short skirt. All the Pompons could see were a pair of long legs swaying back and forth.

Sunday: Those features were completely Stelle's. There was absolutely no mistake!

That Trailblazer really had no sense of boundaries at all.

She could casually touch Pompons' fluff balls, and she could casually ask to touch his ear feathers too.

For some reason, he felt a little unwilling.

He did not want the Trailblazer to touch his ear feathers so casually...

Sunday tilted his head slightly and, taking advantage of the Trailblazer's lapse in attention, slipped his ear feathers out of her hand.

"Huh?"

Stelle's eyes widened. For some reason, the temperature around the man suddenly seemed to drop slightly.

What was wrong? Had he gotten angry because she had taken advantage of him without asking for permission first?

She watched Sunday struggle to maintain his usual composure as he slowly but unhurriedly climbed off the bed. With a calm expression, he straightened his slightly rumpled hem, revealing neither joy nor anger.

How did that saying go again?

A woman is three parts drunk, and she'll act until you cry.

Hehe.

Stelle secretly curled her lips.

Why not take advantage of this perfect opportunity, now that she had been drinking, to half-act and half-reveal her true feelings as she conquered Sunday's heart?

At that thought, Stelle's face visibly took on three parts shock, three parts vulnerability, and six parts helplessness.

This acting, damn.

Now this was a seasoned performer!

Aha: Such acting skills. Please continue. In the next "Astral Express Has Drama Queens," Aha will definitely nominate you. Win a big trophy for Aha, okay!

Stelle: Life is like a play—it all depends on acting! Watch how I use my contrived performance to wrap Sunday around my finger!

Hearing that, Sunday paused in the act of leaving.

He could not stand the Trailblazer looking at him with those misty eyes. Under that gaze, he seemed to lose even the strength to take another step.

"Why?"

Stelle weakly collapsed onto the bed, an unshakable mist gathering in her eyes. She spoke in disbelief, as though questioning how Sunday could leave her so heartlessly.

"Sunday, if I weren't drunk, I wouldn't even have the courage to approach you. I used my drunkenness as an excuse to get closer to you. Are you going to crush even this wish that I long for so desperately with your own hands..."

No, wait a second.

Sunday swallowed.

He had only refused the Trailblazer's request to touch his ear feathers.

Why did it suddenly sound as though he were some heartless scumbag? What was going on?!

"Stelle."

His lips parted softly, releasing that syllable from his throat.

Did he care? He probably did.

The Trailblazer could touch the fluff balls of every Pompom in Penacony. Did that mean that if the person who had boarded the Express had not been Sunday, but any other Halovian...

Would she have asked them to let her touch their ear feathers too?

Sunday opened his mouth.

Ever since boarding the Express, he had held to the principle that less trouble was better than more.

Otherwise, he would not have spent every day silently gazing at the starry sky outside from a corner of the Party Car.

He had boarded the Express not merely because he wanted to see the outside world, nor merely because he feared his identity would affect Robin.

It was because he was truly curious about what kind of environment could foster a personality as resilient, persistent, and courageous as the Trailblazer's.

Half of it was a yearning for an unknown place to settle, while the other half was curiosity about the Trailblazer.

With those thoughts in mind, he boarded the Express, briefly becoming a Nameless and following the Express Crew in carrying out the will of the Trailblaze.

And now, he thought, he had to ask.

Was this request meant only for him, Sunday, or for other Halovians as well?!

Sunday sat upright beside the Trailblazer. Moonlight streamed in through the small window and fell over him, making his gaze toward Stelle burn brightly.

"Can you casually do this sort of thing with anyone?

You do it with Pompons, and you do it with me too.

If the person in front of you today were not me, but just any Halovian...

Would you ask them to let you touch their ear feathers too?

Stelle, answer me."

Huh...?

Stelle blinked in stunned confusion.

Wait, what was happening?!

Had Sunday just thrown her a straight ball?

The Trailblazer was supposed to be the one throwing straight balls at others.

How had she spent all day hunting geese, only to have one peck her in the eye?

Stelle inwardly cried out in alarm. This situation was no longer something she, as the Trailblazer, could handle.

Come to think of it, it had indeed been a long time since her Elation-mode self had made an appearance.

In that case, please, my other self!

Stelle silently flipped the Elation Switch in her heart.

Elation Stelle: Yare yare, is it finally my turn to take the stage?

After saying so much, Sunday silently waited for the Trailblazer's answer.

Yet Stelle only kept her head lowered.

Her hair covered her expression, and Sunday could not read anything from the girl's face.

What should he do? Would she think he was meddlesome?

Would she think that he... was too greedy?

Sunday put his hands behind his back and clenched them tightly, hard enough that they trembled slightly, as though that could hide his unease.

"Sunday."

Stelle, whose account had been taken over, slowly raised her face.

A calm, unruffled smile spread across her lips, as though everything were under her control.

"What I like is precisely this side of you."

Would any of you think, "Where did Sunday's feelings for the Trailblazer even come from? There's absolutely no reason for them!"

Just remember this: wherever the Trailblazer goes, people like her. She's a universal heartthrob! That alone is enough.