Somehow you made it through the literal daycare with less violence than usual. In the end, it was more bittersweet than you’d expected to leave your sleeping flourchild behind, even though Sister had assured you this was the right path. With the exit door unlocked, it was hard to argue otherwise.
Perhaps you could have stayed with her, even if your flourchild would vanish. It was apparently viable, after all, for a Passenger to simply stay in one spot, and there was food and water… But Sister had no intention of going home. If you did, then following in her footsteps couldn’t have been wise.
So you followed Neko-Neko’s instead, across the next bridge and to yet another car.
After the rushing air and clanking wheels outside, the sudden quiet stillness made your skin prickle. The air smelled faintly of dust and parchment, and the slightest chill gripped your shoulders. Rows of polished wooden shelves from floor to ceiling stretched away farther than you could see the end of—if there was any end. Every shelf was well-stocked with books of all styles pressed neatly side by side.
Closer to where you entered, a curved wooden counter with an “INFORMATION” sign hanging overhead separated you from a goatboy of some kind. Eyeing your group, he managed to look utterly bored and judgmental at the same time.
“Great. You look like you won’t make any noise.”
“We’ll all try to be quiet…!”
“We make no promises.”
The goatboy’s lip curled.
“Right. Well. Welcome or something. You’re in a library. Go read a book.”
He gestured at himself—“Jimithy—” at the doorway behind him—“Timothy. We’re here if you need us.”
“Don’t need us. Thanks.”
There was motion back in the other room—
“…….”
—but no one else came to say hello.
Jimithy leaned back in his seat—one of the only ones this place seemed to have—and put in some earbuds. Ah. Very helpful.
But at least this place didn’t seem particularly dangerous, in and of itself? Though it didn’t present a clear exit, either. Hmm.
Time to read a book, you guessed.
—
[Car Reference Post]
