The Furniture Car was spacious, much more so than the last. With the low walls and the arrows, it felt like a labyrinth. Despite the maze-like nature of this place, there was still nowhere to hide. Atsuko knew that.
But still, she refused to lug this disgraceful canvas in its frame for another moment. This car would do just fine.
A woman with a mission, Atsuko cared not to even glance at the instructions, nor head to the restaurant to eat. She was sure she would feel the ache of hunger sooner or later, especially with all the manual labor they had been made to do thus far, and would continue to do (you haven’t lifted a finger other than to search for your letter, Atsuko).
But it was all getting to be too much. It was piling atop her, and she needed to clear her mind. Regardless of what anyone else was going to do about it.
And so she walked off on her own, as far away from the others as she could manage. She glanced at the storerooms, trying to find one that would be… suitable. None of them were entirely closed off, and she would need to move the furniture around, because of course she would. She needed space, which was not something she had since getting her hands on this painting.
Atsuko stopped at a showroom that was not her taste. A very contemporary office, with the desk in the center of the room being made of glass and metal, and the only wood in the room being far enough away that it wouldn’t matter. This would do well enough. She tossed the painting, still wrapped in wrapping paper, aside, and got to work clearing a space in the middle of the room.
…
—
There were no truly closed-off walls in the Furniture Car, and the low walls let you see above them easily, given the height of the ceiling. So if the burgeoning smell of smoke didn’t clue anyone in, then the visible smoke rising above the walls of a showroom further into the car was a dead giveaway.
Fire.
What if it was an emergency? Was something wrong? The blahaj certainly thought so, and those that caught on ran around in a panic.
This one would be left to the passengers, then. Toward the fire you went, with urgency.
What you found was not what you expected at all—although some had been ‘warned’ in advance, that she had intended to dispose of the trash she was carrying.
On the ground was what was once a piece of canvas in a frame. But it took to the flame so quickly, so beautifully. Too beautiful, too dignified an end for what it had been. The flames soared and crackled in the midst of the office showroom, growing higher. And standing in front of it was none other than Atsuko.
'Permission to speak freely… Honestly, that girl’s even scarier than you, Hidenori. If she was the next-in-line, then no doubt—'
Hearing the footsteps coming her way, Atsuko whipped around to face you.
“……………”
And at that moment, the Furniture Car’s fire alarm sounded, and from the ceiling came rain. No, not rain… sprinklers. Lovely. They wouldn’t be enough to deal with this flame alone, but they would definitely be getting all of you wet.
“…Perfect. Just perfect. I’m going to be all wet…” Atsuko sighed, although her voice lacked a single ounce of genuine disappointment. For the first time since stepping foot on this train, she felt truly alive.
“Say. How about we turn those sprinklers off, and dry ourselves by the fire?”
'Hahaha, right? I’d expect no less of my little deer.'
The Hearth of Hokkaido, indeed.
