Prologue

Crazy Train

She stood, umbrella poised over her shoulder, white knuckles clutching a worn suitcase; shuddering, the patter of the chilled rain both comforted her and unnerved her. The first day had always been hard, she recalled. You all but expected events to go the way in your head, yet that never played out.

She'd learned three things from it: Expect the unexpected, don't proclaim yourself a friend but be friendly, and never trust someone you've known for twenty-four hours.

And, it goes without saying, never to judge a book by its cover. Standing by herself, waiting on the platform, the extended wait was making it difficult to realize what was actually happening. No one ever requested she personally come to a festival, let alone be invited by another person to something. It would be a ruse. Or a false alarm. She'd discover she wasn't needed, that they have someone "better," and she'd be on her way. With a smile, of course. She always smiled and seemed happy, leading people to say she was a kind and bright young woman.

A blast of wind blew rain into her face. She put her arm up in defense, but rain still made it onto her clothes and face. She scoffed. A raindrop rolled down her straight nose, as she had a bitter thought. I have a smiling, pretty face, but not a heart to match. I should feel bad about deceiving them. Yet... I don't. Is that so bad?

Despite herself, curiosity was aroused within. What kind of people would she meet? She'd read somewhere that villagers in rural towns had a kindly disposition; that they'd be more welcoming to outsiders.

"Pah. Idiots," she sighed. They probably didn't know any better, though. How strange people are, to have nothing and be happier, than to have everything and thirst for more. Helping people is its own reward, they say. What does that mean? Where's the reward, if you help but only make things worse, if you help, but only receive a grimace in return, if you try to help, but get shooed away? How is that a reward? What kind of person would you have to be, to mindlessly help another, yet not question what you're actually affecting?

The more she questioned, and the more she tried to justify her own selfish actions, the more selfish she became. In the end, it was within her knowledge that this was happening, but she refused to have anyone else help her. No one would listen, she thought, people ultimately only care about themselves. Period.

To a degree, she knew she was right. There was no such thing as a true sacrifice. There was no such notion of fairytale "true love." Not that she didn't believe in true love. It all depends on your definition of what love actually is; however, true love can't be what it isn't. Love isn't hostile; lust is hostile. She figured she'd never find anyone who fit even slightly into her idea of love.

"Ah," she grunted out. Her hand cradled her forehead, which began to throb rapidly. Too much thought, too fast. She sucked in air, then slowly released through an "o"-shaped mouth. Her heart beat a tad faster than she would've liked.

Something felt odd. A silence ensued the area, feeling thick, like the humid air. She realized the rain had stopped, or at least stooped to a drizzle. Gripping the top of the umbrella pole, she slid it down, snapping it shut. A large raindrop plopped on her head. She yelped. It came from one of the black-coated metal beams of the canopy overhead, she figured. Taking a cautious step back, she stared at the empty tracks. She glanced at the sleek silver watch on her wrist.

The train was half an hour late. How lovely. At that rate, she would arrive well after midnight. Hopefully the Inn wouldn't be booked up by then, or at least be open. Hopefully they had a cot, so she wouldn't have to sleep on the floor...

Everything considered, this would be no luxury cruise. Good thing there were no intentions to stay. She glanced behind the metal beams on the far side of the tracks, drinking in a nice, long look at the remote cityscape. The middle of nowhere had better get themselves ready, because she was coming!

... Hah. As if. If anything, it'd be her getting ready for the middle of nowhere.

A far-off clinking and chugging sound bounced off her ears. She figured it was her imagination, until it blared louder, and louder still. She dared to peek down the tracks in the direction of the noise and, sure enough, a train chugged away toward the station. She stood in awe as it slowed. It screeched to a halt directly in front of the platform. That was no bullet-shaped train. That was an old-fashioned, chugga chugga choo-choo train.

She suppressed a nervous laugh. The train sat on the tracks in a welcoming way, as if beckoning her to step on. She looked around. Yep, she still stood completely alone. Nervously, step by step, she walked up to the doors of the nearest passenger car. She slid it open and stepped inside, sliding the door shut once more.

The train immediately lurched forward.

"Whoa..." she wobbled, steadying herself on a wall. The rough wood scratched against her palm.

"Ma'am, your ticket, please," a young uniformed woman extended a hand to the traveler.

At first, she thought the woman was offering to help her off the wall, but then realized she just wanted the ticket. She searched her tan waistcoat pocket, and revealed a red ticket.

The attendant snatched up the red piece of paper. She examined it closely, then smiled back at the passenger. "Thank you," she half-heartedly said, then slid the door open to the car ahead. She slipped out and closed the door.

Once she regained balance, she decided to hunt down a nice, empty seat for herself. She turned to the hallway of seats. Every two sets of seats were boxed off. Like the train to Hogwarts, she thought, amused.

After passing several full rows, she found a boxed portion that was empty. She slid open the door and plopped down into a cushioned seat, sighing. Too lazy to get back up, she just dropped her umbrella on the floor and set her suitcase on the seat beside her.

Travel is tiring... But I still love it. It's exciting! she mused. It's like a storm among arid summer days. She thought of the heat, warming her up, her eyelids threatening to close.

"Hello? Oh!" a voice called into her box.

She jolted awake, ready to shoot daggers at the intruder. A lanky man stood in the doorway. Well, lanky, but he held himself with a cat-like grace. She stared at him.

He just smiled cheerily. "Is anyone sitting here?" he gestured to the seats across from her, his ruffled black-blue hair bouncing slightly with the movement.

She glared at him. Right then, she craved rest. When she was tired, there was no more Miss Nice Gal. "Look, just go away and mind your own business, okay?" she chided.

He only chuckled, "Good to know there are still plenty of rude people in the world!" With that, he promptly slid into a seat across from her.

She noted he didn't pull any smooth moves like closing the box door. He's probably been rejected by the last seven people he's asked, she thought. In an awkward silence, she looked him up and down. His red argyle sweatervest over a navy collared shirt actually looked quite flattering on his form, against the silky black fabric of his pants. From his hair to his pointed features, everything about him screamed, "FELINE!"

...Weird.

In an attempt to make conversation, he began asking some light questions. "So, where you headed?"

She considered lying, but what was the use? No need to lie to a stranger. However, if he started hitting on her, he'd get the boot. "A country village called Mineral Town. You?" she replied, a casual smile creeping its way upon her lips.

"Ah, it's a bit difficult to explain," he said sheepishly.

She gave him a look in response. "O-kay..."

He twittered nervously. "Anyway... Uh, Mineral Town? I think I've been there once. Good folks, good folks. Why go there? It's pretty out of the way, if you know what I mean," he smirked.

"Oh, I was... Invited. To a festival," she replied.

He raised a brow. "Oh really?"

"No! It's nothing like that!" she assured him, pursing her lips.

He laughed good-naturedly. "Alright. Are you planning on staying?" A sparkle of mischief ignited in his reddish-brown eyes as he adjusted his shirt cuffs.

She shook her head, her straight blonde ponytail swishing.

"You sure?"

"Positive," she said in exasperation.

Another silence followed. The feline-man perked up. "Oh, hey! I never got your name!" he said.

Hm. Well, it's common etiquette to give a name to someone whom you'll probably spend a long train ride with. "Althea," she replied, nodding, a warm smile on her face.

"Althea? A lovely name for a lovely young woman," he smiled politely.

Kay. Borderline flirt. She smiled politely back, thanking him, "Thank you. And yours?"

"Ah! My name's Rovington, but you can call me... Ron. Call me Ron. Everyone calls me that," he chuckled, looking out the window.

She sighed. "Okay, Ron," She didn't want to get stuck with a talkative passenger, but he seemed polite. And a little cute, for what it's worth.

He turned his head back. "So... You think you got enough cash? I don't mean to offend you, or pry or anything, but..."

"Oh, yes. I have enough."

Rovington tilted his head. "Well, you seem like you've got a good head on your shoulders. You also seem like you're about to fall asleep, so I'll let you rest," he said, adding, "For now!"

Already eyes closed, she fingered the handle of her umbrella.

Ron gulped. "Hah! ... Kidding. I'm just kidding!"

Althea smiled, wondering why such a kind person already came her way. It was a chance in a million, really. How odd, though. It all felt strangely familiar.

Yup! I humanized Rover from the Animal Crossing series. Don't judge me, o ye who is surfing FFn.