Taro Mori loved trains. There was a time, even, where one could say he was obsessed with trains, and if one were to look back through his family album they may find a picture of a younger Taro wearing a conductor hat sitting in front of his PC playing some god awful train simulation with his lips pursed in such a way that he could only have been mouthing the words “choo choo”. He still always took the window seat, although his obsession had shifted from trains to cars to robots to mechs (and, yes, there was a huge difference) to whatever the hell else was a fad that week. He liked watching the city go by in a blur of blues, browns, and greens. He liked waiting in the station and watching the business people herd in and out of the train like cattle, doing the same thing day in and day out. He even liked feeling sorry for them, as if that shallow gesture would do anything to better their tiresome, loathful lives. He even liked when the trains got crowded, and he’d give up his seat to an old person or a cute girl and temporarily be their greatest hero until their next stop.
But boy, did Taro really hate being on this particular train today. He had actually gone to class today. It wasn’t because of the letter from his dad; surely, pops would never disown his own son and heir just because he liked to goof around. The old man just wanted to flex his ego and he would relax after a few weeks or just get wrapped up in work and forget all about it. No, the reason Taro had gone to class was because of a co-ed he had eyed when picking up the syllabus for one of his later evening classes. He had been absolutely mad about her for weeks now, and had finally dug up enough information about her to figure out the perfect way to swoon her.
The plan was simple: he’d chat her up in class, absolutely slaying her with his smile and his charm, and then suggest they go get some food from some stupid vegan place that he had heard she liked. There, he would happen to mention a few bands that she was apparently into and, hey, would you know that one of them was playing a live show at some bar right around the corner? A drink or two and some close dancing later and he would be on his way to score city, population two. They would then date for a few weeks before breaking up after she either realized that she could do much, much better or he lost interest because of some girl he met in a coffee shop or hotel bar.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so simple—and it did not even work. Turns out that, after all of his effort of finding out information about her, he had missed one really important detail: her boyfriend. It wouldn’t have been so bad, really, if not for the damn punk walking up to them and protectively putting his arm around her before Taro could even take the chance to hit on her. What a jerk, thought Taro, pressing his head against the window and leering out at the city. Of course, he still did hit on her, but there was no way she was going anywhere with the jerk holding onto her for his dear life.
So now he was alone on this train, and he absolutely hated it.
Doubly so because the damn thing just tried to kill him.
Taro pushed himself up off of the floor, rubbing his throbbing forehead. He could already feel the bump forming, but there was no blood. He brushed his hair over the fresh bruise as he steadied himself against his seat—or rather, the seat several away from his. His body yelled at him in pain as he stood up all of the way, but nothing felt broken. Battered, yes, and a bit dirty from the floor, but not broken. He realized what had happened as he sat down in his old seat.
Oh, right, of course, thought Taro. Duh.
Weeks ago he would have been shocked by the stoppage or whatever the hell was actually happening. Days ago he would have been thrilled by another chance to experiment with his new, if limited and sort of lame, time powers. Now it was just another part of the day; a peaceful little period of time where literally nothing had ever happened. Turns out people aren’t that fun to talk to when they don’t talk back. Now he would have to spend what would feel like an eternity stuck on a train with absolutely nothing to do except lick his wounds and stare at the frozen passengers.
The man with half a sandwich shoved in his mouth, the old lady who had been taking a nap, and the pack of balding businessmen quickly lost Taro’s interest. Stretching, Taro grabbed his bag and jumped up to his feet (and cursed underneath his breath as pain waved through his body again) as he started walking to the next car. If he was going to be stuck on a train with nothing to do for who knows how long, he would at least take a moment to poke around in the engine room or something. Who knows, maybe that period of playing those boring simulators would somehow help him restart the train, or at the least he could look at the buttons and levers and pretend to push them. His feet clicked loudly against the floor, highlighting the eerie silence that was around him—a silence that was quickly broken by the muffled voice of a woman from the car ahead.
Taro stopped. In the weeks he had spent in this weird frozen time thingy, he had never heard a peep out of another person. He started moving again, only this time with a much quicker pace. He yanked the door of his cab open and crossed the gap, bolting into the other car and almost running smack dab into a frozen blonde girl decked out in some red ribbons standing right in the middle of the aisle. Only, unlike all of the other frozen people, she was actually making noises and sort of shifting or shivering or whatever. That’s a new— “Oh!” The man made the obvious connection that, unlike the frozen people, the girl wasn’t frozen. Meaning, well, meaning something. For starters, he wasn’t the only time genie (which was kind of a bummer), but that also meant he wasn’t alone in a creepy time bubble (which was kind of great).
“Hey! Hey! You’re a person, right? I mean, you’re real, no, wait, that’s not what I’m trying to say, what I’m saying is you’re not like the rest of these stiffs. That’s cool. Cool. Awesome, great, awesome,” he said, the words blurting out of his mouth faster than he could think. “Man, am I glad to see another person. Oh, ha, are you okay? You good? I can help you out, I think. I mean, I took a few first aid classes, so I’m pretty much a bunch of debt away from officially being a doctor. Taro,” he said, offering her his hand. “Uh, that’s me. My name. It’s Taro. My name is Taro.” He rubbed the back of his head with his other hand. “Sorry, kinda hit my head, ha ha…yeah it hurts, but, uh, anyway...”