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klai-16xoxo · 4 days ago

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A writing piece where Ten and Seth become closer with their new traveling companion, Sunday.

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Sunday walked through the bustling train station with Welt guiding him, eyes scanning the sea of faces for any hint of recognition. The Halovian felt the weight of his past decisions pressing down on him, making him question if he truly belonged in this new chapter of his life and reminiscing the bittersweet memories he shared with his sister…. Yet with a deep breath, he pushed the doubt aside and continued his search. Amongst the crowd, a flash of blue caught his eye.

It was a young man with hair like the field of lavenders under a blue sky, a portrait like figure in the dull metallic surroundings. He was surrounded by a group of people, his soft chuckles ringing out like the peal of a bell, seeming as if he had just heard another strange amusing statement from the Trailblazer beside him. Sunday's gaze lingered for a moment, feeling an inexplicable kinship with the acquaintance he first met back at the Reverie Hotel of Penacony… Then, as if sensing his presence, the man's eyes met his, and the quiet sounds died in his throat. The crowd parted, and the two stepped towards each other, curiosity and a hint of wariness in their eyes. "Good to see you once again, Mr. Sunday," the lavender-haired man said, extending a hand. His grip was firm yet not overpowering. "As a fresh new beginning of a long journey. I suppose we'll have to reintroduce ourselves… My name is Seth, a member of the Nameless on the Astral Express. And this," he gestured to a quieter, more introspective-looking sword with Magenta glow from his side. Sunday became familiar with the weapon the other brought along. Even more as familoar that resembles another acquaintance he knows. "Is my sister, Ten."

Ten, that cheery blossom-haired girl he met back in the Dreamscape…" Never thought they were related - but then that fills the blank about what's told about the Dyanthus Syzygy. Seth continued, "We've heard a lot about you. Our conductor, Pom Pom, is eager to meet you. He's waiting for us in the control room." Sunday nodded, his eyes darting between Seth and Ten's sword figure. There was something peculiar about them, something he couldn't quite put his finger on.

He'd heard whispers of the Dyanthus siblings, their shared body and dual souls a subject of fascination and, in some circles, fear. But as they began to walk, Seth (despite being the quiet sibling usually) chatting easily about the upcoming voyage as Ten can only beam along with her soft glow, Sunday found himself drawn into their orbit. Their conversation was light, filled with the excitement of exploration and camaraderie of shared experiences. Yet, underneath it all, Sunday sensed a tension, a hidden current that flowed between them. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. He wondered if it was the same feeling of hope that ran through him, the one that pulled him toward the path of redemption while the shadow of his past loomed large.

March, a well-known member of the Astral Express, was a ball of energy. Her eyes were lit up with the fires of determination. She greeted Sunday with a firm handshake and a smile that could have melted the coldest of hearts. Her words were welcoming, yet they contained a steely resolve that told Sunday she was not one to be underestimated. Despite her youthful appearance and personality, she had this glow in her eyes that showed a glimpse of her sharp-witness than he could ever imagine.

The oldest figures of the crew, Himeko and Welt, were very understanding and welcomed Sunday for his cause of a new journey. Dan Heng, the guard of the Express, feels the sense of familiarity in Sunday's situation where he has to leave the past and move forward to light the path of the future. And the Trailblazer… they made the impactful decision to let him stay, which helped him change his life completely into a big turn.

The first few days on the Astral Express were a whirlwind of activity. The crew was a tight-knit bunch, each member with their own unique skills and stories. Sunday found himself fitting in surprisingly well, his talents as a specialist in spiritual mind healer and moral boost abilities invaluable on their missions. Yet, it was the moments of quiet camaraderie that he cherished the most. Like the evening when March decided to give them all a makeover.

Ten had insisted on placing a set of delicate pink hairpins in his hair, her soft pink eyes twinkling with giddiness. Despite his initial protests, he had to admit that the soft touch of the accessories against his skin was oddly comforting. And when he caught his reflection in a passing window, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement at the sight of the once feared Halovian with such a dainty adornment. It was a stark contrast to the fierce battles he had once been a part of, a stark reminder of the man he was striving to become.

The Dyanthus siblings had shown him a different side of life, one filled with laughter and companionship. They had accepted him, even with the knowledge of his past, and it was a gift he wasn't sure he deserved. But as one of them sat around the table with him in the communal area, sharing stories and a warm meal, he felt a sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long. It was in these moments that Sunday began to realize that perhaps he wasn't just a pawn in a cosmic game but a person with the capacity to choose his own destiny. And maybe, just maybe, he could find his answer with the Astral Express.

One evening, after the day's work was done and the train hummed quietly along the tracks, Seth approached him with a book in hand. "Sunday," he began tentatively, "I know this might seem a bit... forward, but Ten and I thought you might find this interesting." he held out the book, his eyes unreadable yet gentle. Sunday can imagine how his gaze may contrast with Ten's, which may be looking as wide and hopeful if she is looking at him through her sword facade at that moment.

The book was bound in a soft leather cover, with the title 'Understanding the Halovian Mind' embossed in gold.

Sunday took the book, his curiosity piqued. He'd never seen a book like this before, not one that delved into the psychological complexities of his own kind. The Halovians were a winged race, their culture centered around strength and honor to Harmony.

He glanced at the lavender gentleman, who watched him quietly and cracked a smile. "Thank you, Seth," he said, his voice quite hesitant but sincere. "I'll take a look."

Seth nodded solemnly, his gaze unwavering. "We read it ourselves," he admitted. "We thought it might help you… understand yourself better.." He paused, searching for the right words.

"We're all looking for our place in the stars, and sometimes, a little knowledge can go a long way."

“Oh, and here is a message Ten wrote for you,” Seth remembers before taking out a pink envelope from his jacket to Sunday. Who then opens the letter to read its contents.

Ten could be imagined chiming in inside the Halovian’s mind through the letter's ideas, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't be mad, Sunday. We just want you to be happy.." The vulnerability in her words tinted in a smooth ink with a cute drawing of a miniature Sunday smiling was like a punch to the gut.

Sunday had never had anyone care for his happiness before, not like this. He felt a warmth spread through his chest, something that had long been dormant. As he skimmed through the pages of the book, Sunday couldn't help but feel thay familiar sense of kinship with the siblings. They, too, had their battles to fight, their secrets to keep. Yet, they had chosen the path of light, and now, they were offering him a guiding hand. He didn't know what the future held, but as he sat there, surrounded by the warm glow of friendship, he knew that for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he was looking forward to finding out.

The days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months. The Astral Express crisscrossed the galaxy, each new destination offering Sunday a glimpse into the vast tapestry of the Honkai. He watched in awe as Seth and Ten seamlessly switched places, each one taking on the other's role with an ease that belied the complexity of their existence. It was during these transitions that Sunday felt a strange kinship with them, as if they were three souls bound by fate, each searching for their place in the cosmos.

One evening, as the train glided through the inky blackness of space, Sunday found himself drawn to the sound of piano music wafting through the corridors. Following the melody, he arrived at the lounge to find Seth seated at the grand piano, his fingers dancing over the ivory keys. The tune was hauntingly beautiful, filled with a melancholy that resonated deep within Sunday's core. He leaned against the doorway, lost in the music, until Seth looked up and noticed him. The lavender-haired swordsman paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before offering a tentative smile. "I didn't know you were there," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of self-consciousness. Sunday stepped into the room, the music continuing to play as he approached. "It's okay," he replied, his voice low. "You're playing... it's like a window into your soul."

The two men shared a silent understanding, the music a bridge between them. Seth began to play again, the notes echoing through the quiet space. As Sunday listened, he felt a strange sensation, as if the music was peeling back the layers of his own soul. The pain, the regret, the longing - it all collided into a symphony of emotions that he hadn't allowed himself to feel in so long. And in that moment, he knew that he could trust these siblings, that he could confide in them.

Ten, who had been quietly observing from the sidelines spiritually, approached with a pad of paper and a pencil. Sunday cpuod see the note that she wrote with a gentle smile. "Why don't you write down what you're feeling?" The kindred spirit suggested. "Sometimes, it's easier to express ourselves that way."

Sunday took the pad, his hands trembling slightly as he began to scribble down his thoughts. The words flowed from his soul, raw and unfiltered, filling the pages with his tumultuous emotions. And as he wrote, he felt a weight begin to lift from his shoulders.

The music continued to play, a soothing backdrop to Sunday's introspection. He glanced up to find Ten sitting beside him, an absence of Seth as temporary replacement. Her eyes filled with empathy. He handed her the pad, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited her reaction. She read the words, her expression a mix of sadness and understanding. Without a word, she placed a hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. And in that moment, as the Astral Express hurtled through the stars, Sunday knew that he had found something precious, something that could not be measured by power or victory. He had found a family, and together, they would navigate the uncharted path of redemption.

The bond between Sunday and the siblings grew stronger with every passing day. They faced challenges and dangers, but the trio remained steadfast, each one's strength complementing the others'. Seth's unyielding spirit and strategic mind were balanced by Ten's gentle empathy and sharp intuition. They were a formidable force, not just on the battlefield, but in the quiet moments of contemplation and growth.

It was during one of these moments that Sunday found the courage to confront his former master's legacy. The words he wrote to Ten that evening were a declaration of intent, a promise to break free from the shackles of his past. And as he watched her read them, her eyes filled with pride, he felt a determination that surpassed any he'd known before.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "For believing in me." Ten looked up, her gaze locking onto his. "We've always seen a brighter sky in you, Sunday," she said softly. "It was just a matter of time before you did, too."

Their journey together was full of dangers and revelations, but it was also a journey of healing and discovery. As Sunday learned to embrace his newfound second family, he began to understand that the path he had been forced onto was not the only one that could define him. The Astral Express became a sanctuary, a place where he could forge his own destiny.

One day, as the window of the train approached the sight of a known galaxy, a place where the stars were sparse and the silence was deafening, Seth approached Sunday with an offer. "I know you still have much to face," he said, his eyes reflecting the cosmos outside the train's window. "But would you consider a duet?"

Sunday raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden turn in conversation. "A duet?" Seth nodded, a small smile present on his once cold features, "On the piano. I've noticed how you look at it every time I play…. I heard you also play it. I think it's time you expressed what you're feeling through music, too."

The Halovian felt a thrill of excitement mingled with nerves. It had been so long since he had allowed himself the luxury of creativity, of expressing his emotions without fear. But with Seth by his side, the piano didn't seem so intimidating anymore. He nodded, his heart racing with anticipation. And so, with the vastness of the universe as their audience, the two men sat at the piano. Seth's melody was a call to arms, an elegant battle cry of hope and determination. Sunday's response was a haunting graceful melody of pain and loss, a lament that wove through the air like a ghostly echo. As their notes intertwined, so too did their spirits, creating harmony that resonated through the very fabric of the train.

Ten, whose sword figure was resting on the counter not so far from the pair, begins to feel the depth of emotion that flowed from the music. It was a moment of unity, a declaration of solidarity in the face of the unknown. And as the last notes faded away, Sunday felt a piece of his soul mend, a piece that had been shattered for so long.

Maybe someday, if the siblings ever get to have separate bodies of their own, maybe they can perform a trio of a piano, a harp, and a voice... rather than just a duet of a piano-vocal or a harp-vocal.

The journey ahead was still filled with danger and uncertainty, but with the support of the Astral Express members, Sunday knew that he could face whatever the cosmos threw at him. For now, he was no longer a weapon, nor a pawn in a larger game. He was a member of this family, a fellow traveler on the path to redemption. With every stroke of the piano keys, he was reminded that he was not alone.

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