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Before, at night, Kafka would sometimes come to her dreams and greet her.
Stelle would either find Kafka sitting atop a hill with her legs or she would be sitting at a coffee table but both times her back would be turned towards her.
It’s a common occurrence.
Stelle knows it’s a dream but she likes to pretend it isn’t. She would join Kafka and though she doesn’t say anything, Stelle would cherish every moment she spends with the older woman. Though it was just a dream, a figment of her imagination, Stelle likes to relish in the little warmth Kafka radiates.
There was one dream where Kafka turned to her, smiled and ran her porcelain fingers through Stelle’s ragged hair. Kafka ruffled it, her familiar giggle leaving her lips, and Stelle closed her eyes to feel her touch even if it was all just a dream, Stelle’s dream.
The dreams got a lot more prominent after seeing Kafka again. Stelle would close her eyes and this time Kafka would be speaking with her, her words and laughter filling the silence but Stelle’s acutely aware that they were only words she wished she could hear from Kafka.
“Are you enjoying your adventures?” Kafka would ask.
Stelle would nod, a light smile gracing her youthful features, “I am,” she scratches at her cheek, “I’ve been meeting a lot of people and making new friends.”
“My, that sounds exciting,” Kafka would hum and then a soft smile would find her usually sly face, “Are you happy?”
Stelle would resemble that of a beaming puppy, “I am,” her expression would then turn downcast, “I… Just wished you could’ve seen me…”
Kafka’s gentle laughter would fill her ears and then she’d reach out, tucking a stray lock of gray hair behind Stelle’s ear, “I’ve seen you already and though I may not be there,” Kafka would lean forward, her lips placing a soft kiss on Stelle’s forehead, “I’m so very proud of you, my dear.”
And then Stelle would wake up, her eyes snapping open to a cold room and the light droning of the express. She would hear the light chatter from the main cabin but even when she could hear them, even when March’s laughter echoed through the halls, Stelle couldn’t help the stinging ache in her heart.
The constant ache of Kafka leaving her burned deep and it burned even deeper when she woke up from her dreams.
So today, well for the past week, Stelle stayed awake, often delaying slumber. She sat in the cabin on one of the red couches to watch the surroundings or to count the stars — whatever kept her from having to see Kafka again.
Staying awake, however, was a much more difficult challenge than Stelle thought. It’s honestly a surprise she stayed awake for this long.
But it’s working. It’s been a while since she’s seen Kafka in her dreams and though Stelle desperately wishes to see her again, she doesn’t want to feel the crippling loneliness that follows. It hurts too much, it aches, it stings, it—
“Although I’m in no place to berate you,” comes a gentle voice that Stelle has come to be fond of, “I feel that staying awake doesn’t quite solve one’s problems.”
Stelle blinks from her trance on the window and turns around, her eyes trailing up to meet a pair of soft gold irises — Himeko. She’s dressed in her normal attire, her white dress hugging her and her cape covering her shoulders, and it makes Stelle wonder if she’s truly comfortable wearing those clothes almost every hour of the day.
“Oh,” Stelle scratches her cheek, “I… just can’t sleep.”
“For a whole week?” Himeko inquires, she doesn’t sound suspicious, just curious. She sits a small distance from Stelle, “Well, that sounds a little concerning.” Himeko mumbled under her breath, her eyebrows knit into slight worry, but Stelle was quick to dispel it.
“No, no,” Stelle clears her throat, “I’m alright, really, I just… I’ll sleep soon. Please, don’t worry.”
Himeko looks up and her gaze is hard to read — it makes Stelle slightly uncomfortable. The young trailblazer was about to stand up, in hopes to convince the older woman, but was stopped with a very gentle hand on her wrist.
Stelle looks at Himeko’s hand then up at her. Himeko smiles softly, “You don’t have to force yourself to sleep,” she pulls away, her warm hand leaving Stelle’s, “But if you don’t mind, may I stay here?”
Blinking, Stelle reluctantly asks, “You can’t sleep either?”
Himeko chuckles, raising an eyebrow slightly, “Itching to get rid of me already?” When she sees Stelle’s eyes flash with panic, Himeko laughs, a hand over her mouth, and she shakes her head, “I’m only kidding and to answer your question, yes. Sleeping is very difficult when you have so much on your mind.”
Stelle huffs at being teased but nods in agreement, “It is.”
Silence fills their conversation and for a moment, Stelle was convinced that the rest of the ride would just be them watching the stars and drowning in the pitch black scene but that moment was cut short as Himeko spoke again.
“You don’t have to answer me and I don’t mind sitting here in silence,” Himeko says, her eyes staying on the large window, “But I still wanted to ask: are your sleepless nights because of Kafka?” Her voice was soft among the buzz of the express, among the silent turning of gears, but the name on her tongue was loud.
Stelle stills and she foolishly thinks that Himeko doesn’t notice, “...May I ask you something in return?”
Himeko’s lips curl in a faint smile and she turns to Stelle, “A question for a question?” She chuckles, “Of course.”
Stelle looks down at her lap, at her hands clasped together. Her fingers are calloused, decorated with a few scars from fights (and possibly from trash can searching), and she figures more will come in the future. “What do you think of Kafka?”
Himeko’s smile fades into a slight frown, her eyebrows wrinkling into thought. She sighs, “Would my answer change your opinion of me?” When Stelle shakes her head, Himeko continues, “Well, I’m not very fond of her. She’s… something , alright, but she strikes me the wrong way. Her whole entrance did pretty much nothing to quell the suspicions I have of her so my thoughts on her aren’t that pleasant.”
“I get that,” Stelle scratches at her nape, “I’m sure she rubbed everyone the wrong way.”
Himeko tilts her head slightly at Stelle, “Excluding you?” She laughs softly when Stelle’s eyes go wide, as if worrying of admitting an opinion that differs drastically to everyone else on the train. “Don’t worry, we all have led different lives up until this point, and… you seem to know of a side of Kafka that no one else does.”
Stelle fidgets in her seat, a look of conflict swimming in her eyes, and Himeko notices it. The red-headed woman smiles, “Well, I answered your question, will you answer mine? You don’t have to explain yourself.”
“Yes.”
“...Yes?”
“Oh, uh,” Stelle meets Himeko’s eyes and they’re soft, patient, and there’s not an ounce of threat looming in her striking gold eyes, so the young trailblazer continues, “I have dreams – of Kafka.”
“Mm. Nightmares?”
“No, no,” Stelle shakes her head, “They’re pleasant, nice dreams. We’re just sitting together most of the time – sometimes we’re drinking tea and sometimes we’re just staring at the bright blue sky together.”
“That does sound pleasant,” Himeko hums and she looks out the window, “Do you two have any conversations?”
“Not really,” Stella blinks, “Sometimes we do but I don’t like them.”
Himeko looks at Stelle with curiosity and in her eyes there seems to be a hint of concern, “Why?”
Stelle sighs – there’s no point in hiding herself from Himeko. And while it’s because she didn’t want to worry the older woman any further, it was also because Himeko’s gaze was far too comforting, too warm, for Stelle to not tell her.
It reminded her of someone else.
“Because,” Stelle swallows, “She says things that I…” Her throat feels weird and something pulls at it, her skin suddenly feeling strange.
“Oh, my dear,” Stelle almost flinches when she feels a hand on her cheek but she was quick to swallow it. She looks up, her gaze flickering to Himeko, and she realizes that Himeko had caressed her cheek. “You don’t have to tell me, I understand.”
“S—She’s not saying anything me—“
“I know,” Himeko smiles softly, the hand on Stelle’s cheek falls gently onto her palm, “Like I said, it seems that you know a side of a Kafka we are not aware of.”
Stelle nods silently, not trusting herself to speak lest she lets her eyes water. Himeko was a comrade, a woman of great talent, and though they had spent some time together, Stelle felt almost inclined to look the best in front of her.
“Why don’t you go to the cabins?”
“But—“
“How about you go with the other two? I believe they may still be awake, if March’s screams and Dan Heng’s chiding are anything to go by,” Himeko chuckles softly, “Perhaps you can distract yourselves with them for the time being?”
Stelle wants to protest but… Himeko makes a good point. Rather than wallowing in her dreams in the front cabin and replaying her memories over and over again — it might be better to drown herself in something else.
Dan Heng and March always did a pretty good job in keeping her distracted especially when they played video games. While Dan Heng was a lot more strategic and March was a lot more button-smash-first-think-later, it made the gameplay a lot more amusing, to say the least.
Stelle nods softly and stands up, adjusting her skirt, “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”
Himeko smiles up at her, though she stays seated, “I’m sure March’s endless energy will keep you awake,” she then follows it with a giggle, “And believe it or not, Dan Heng stays up late, perhaps even later than March.”
Stelle blinks, “Ah… well, looks like I won’t be sleeping tonight.” She smiles when Himeko laughs, joining the older woman with a. quiet chuckle of her own. She then bows slightly, “Thank you… for staying with me.”
“None of that,” Himeko places a hand on Stelle’s shoulder, willing her to stand up straight to which the younger woman does. Himeko pats her shoulder affectionately before pulling away, “Enjoy, okay?” She winks before pushing Stelle lightly towards the cabins.
Stelle waves the red-head a goodbye before jogging off, the sound of the door to the individual cabins echo among the express. Himeko watches it with a fond look before signing and turning around.
“Pom-Pom?”
The small creature waddles over to her, looking up with a curious and waiting look, “Did you need something, Himeko?”
Himeko smiles at the small conductor and her eyes suddenly gleam with determination, “Do we by any chance have yarn and knitting supplies on board?”
—
The next few days were… okay.
After March had found out about Stelle’s sleepless nights, she would pretty much drown Stelle in a tight hug and a bed of pillows. March’s mattress would be filled with them and stuffed toys, their bodies pressed against each other with Stelle tucked under her chin.
She still got the dreams, every night, and the aching sting of Kafka leaving her came to her every waking moment but March was trying and Stelle was weak to her efforts.
Stelle was far too soft for the excitable archer to say that even her cuddles did nothing to quell the emptiness after her dreams. Granted, March didn’t even know about the dreams so perhaps that may be one reason why March’s solutions weren’t working.
It was fine, for the most part.
Himeko would often greet her, ask her questions and all that sort but none of them were about Kafka. She did however have this knowing smile on her face that Stelle didn’t quite understand — it seemed most older women had this thing for being mysterious and Stelle wasn’t sure if she liked that.
“Are you sure you’ll come?” March raised a suspicious eyebrow at Stelle, arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t want you spending the rest of the night staring at stars like a madman again, you know.”
Stelle lets out a faint chuckle and it causes the stern expression on March’s face to soften, a small smile adoring her face. Stella nods, “I’ll go, don’t worry,” she leans against the red cushion, “I just need to think of some things,” and avoid seeing her again .
March sighs and waves, her back slouched as she retreats in defeat.
Although the archer was pleasant company and an unsurprisingly tight hugger, Stelle needed a break from seeing Kafka so soon. She needed time to herself, time to prepare for the excitement and joy of seeing Kafka and for the disappointment that soon follows. Stelle wasn’t ready right now.
She wasn’t ready to sit by Kafka’s side, to hear the words she so desperately yearned for, only for all of it to be a sick dream.
So Stelle sits in silence and tries as she might, she keeps remembering the soft touch of Kafka’s palm on her head. She keeps reminiscing the fond way Kafka looks at her – like she was so proud of Stelle, like she had made the right decision of bringing Stelle here, like she was going to come back.
Stelle places her hand on the top of her head, curling into the red couch with her knees tucked into her chest. She buries her face into her knees, her hand still on top of her head, and she breathes in, squeezing her eyes shut to calm the ache in her chest.
“I’m so proud of you, Stelle,” Kafka would say, “And I promise, we will meet agai–”
“Can’t sleep?”
Stelle’s eyes snap open and she looks up, her neck stinging from the sudden movement, and a faint gasp leaves her lips. She quickly takes her hand away from her head and straightens herself, “Himeko, sorry, were you calling me?”
The red-haired woman’s eyes widened, her once gentle smile curling into a slight frown. She lets out a sigh through her nose and leans down, placing her palm on the curve of Stelle’s cheek, “Oh dear,” Her thumb ran just below Stelle’s eye, the soft pad wiping at something wet.
Oh .
Seeing her panic, Himeko sat beside the young trailblazer, “You don’t need to worry, Stelle,” the hand she had on Stelle’s cheek let go and smoothly tucked away stray strands of her gray hair. Himeko smiled softly, “Your tears will not change the pride I have for you.”
Stelle blinks up at Himeko, “Pride?” She sniffles, averting her eyes in an attempt to save face but Himeko places her hand under Stelle’s chin and gently turns her back so that they face each other.
“Yes,” Himeko lets out a breath, the corner of her lips twitching into a seemingly wider smile, “You have no idea how… amazing, you are. You’re brave, strong, and so kind and though you may have weird quirks I think it makes you all the more lovely.”
To hear those words from Himeko’s lips was… somewhat lifting. It alleviated the ache in Stelle’s heart but maybe it’s because Himeko reminded Stelle so much of her – kind, caring, albeit mysterious and cunning in her own way.
And then, “But I know you want to hear those words from her , yes?”
Stelle’s eyes widen and for a second she panics, afraid of what Himeko might think of her. Kafka was a suspicious character in their eyes, a woman not to be trusted, and to everyone in the express, she was an unlikeable woman.
“Take this,” Stelle didn’t even realize just how deep she was in her own rambling thoughts until she felt something on her hands. It was soft and plush, small but warm. Himeko had put something in her palm.
Looking down, uncertain, Stelle blinks at the odd object in her hands. It was… a plushie? A replication of a human?
“Um…” Stelle’s expression wrinkles into one of confusion as she twists the plushie around, it’s small and fits right in her hand, but the head was a bit larger and the top of it had this weird bundle of violet. It had a face… if two buttons for eyes counted as one. The plushie wore very generic clothes like a white collar and black pants that seemed to be hand cut from a short slab of fabric.
Stelle squinted at it and looked up at Himeko, who had a slightly lopsided smile on her face, “What… What is this?”
Himeko let out a sigh, a chuckle leaving her lips. She gestures to the strange plushie in Stella’s hands, “It’s a doll,” she closes her eyes, “Of Kafka.”
“This doesn’t loo–”
“Yes, I’m well aware it’s a far cry from her true appearance,” Himeko huffs out, shaking her head. She then smiles as she opens her eyes, her gaze soft as it lands on Stelle, “But it’s supposed to be her.”
Himeko notices that Stelle’s grip on the plushie slightly tightens and perhaps the young trailblazer didn’t even know she had tightened it.
“But… why?”
“It won’t help with your dreams – or perhaps it will,” Himeko adds as an afterthought, “But Kafka hasn’t quite left you with much so I figure this may be as close as you can get. You cherish Kafka and… I know you miss her.”
Stelle curls into herself slightly at that.
Himeko smiles, “And that’s no problem. I see her differently but you see her as your…” mother , she wants to say but holds off on it. She assumes Stelle isn’t even aware of it and it’s one of the things that ticks Himeko about Kafka.
Kafka, though she isn’t sure, probably doesn’t understand just how important she is to this girl and it irritates Himeko to no end that she left Stelle to fend for herself – well, not anymore considering the young trailblazer has joined them but still , her point stands.
I ought to strangle that cursed woman.
“Nevermind that, take care of it will you? I worked quite hard on that,” Himeko lets out a sigh, ignoring the pain in the joints on her fingers.
Stelle blinks and pulls the plushie to eye level, studying it closely. It barely looks like Kafka and though the hair was some shade of violet close to the inspiration… it still didn’t look like her. But Stelle didn’t mind, she actually quite loved it.
Himeko went through the trouble of making this for her — a small little trinket — when she really didn’t have to. She could have easily ignored Stelle’s dreams or comforted her without having to spend hours on sewing together clothes and button eyes.
“Thank you,” Stelle looks up at Himeko, “I’ll take care of it, I promise.” Although her voice is soft as it always was, Himeko can sense the tilt in it, the slight excitement, the tinge of joy, and it almost stuns the older woman.
Himeko chuckles, “I’ll hold you to that promise,” she reaches out, her hand carding through Stelle’s gray locks, “You’re part of the express, this family and I’ll treat you as such.”
Stelle smiles at that, her lips turning into a gentle grin. The young trailblazer wasn’t that expressive compared to March and she certainly didn’t flash her toothy grin very often but when she does smile, it lessens the weight on Himeko’s heart.
Himeko claps, standing up, and it gets Stelle’s attention, “Well, as much as I would love to stay here and chat with you,” she crosses her arms, “I need to speak with Mr. Yang so unfortunately I will have to leave. Will you be staying here?”
Stelle shakes her head, standing up as well with her new plushie in hand, “I’ll go to sleep, actually,” she scratches her cheek, a mannerism Himeko has noticed, “March would probably kill me if she finds out I didn’t sleep again…”
Himeko chuckles, “Ah, yes, she can be quite terrifying that girl,” she gently pats Stelle’s head as she passes her, her touch soft and fond. “My words… Perhaps they don’t carry the same weight as her but I hope you know how proud I am of you.”
Stelle glances at the older woman, her head feeling warm under the weight of Himeko’s hand, and she smiles. The young trailblazer almost beams at her, nodding, before walking off and though it may just be her imagination, Himeko could almost see a spring in her step – a tiny one.
“Did she like it?” Pom-Pom asks, they’re long ears swaying across the ground slightly.
Himeko crosses her arms over her chest, “I hope so.”
That night, Stelle dreams of Himeko and the others shouting for her name with wide smiles on their faces and she runs, runs into their arms with a bright smile of her own.