No... there is no more

Daziel had barely turned to leave when a soft, small hand caught his wrist.

"Daziel, where are you going?" March 7th's voice was soft and clinging, slurred with drink and a touch of petulance. Her usually bright eyes were clouded now, veiled in a hazy mist, making her look a little lost. A slight pout formed on her lips, as if to chide him for abandoning their drinks.

"I…" Daziel stammered, caught off guard. He hadn't expected March 7th to grab him so suddenly. The more he tried to pull away, the more this whole situation veered off course.

"Do you… not like me anymore?" A hint of grievance laced March 7th's tone. She fixed him with a stare, her eyes searching, filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

"How could I? Little March, I…" Daziel started to explain, but she cut him off.

"Then why won't you drink with me? We're family on the Astral Express, and you can't even indulge me in this little thing?" As she spoke, a flush of red crept into March 7th's eyes, threatening tears.

Seeing her like this, Daziel felt a surge of unease. He knew he had to end this now. He needed to leave, quickly, before things escalated further. "Little March, you're drunk. I really can't drink with you anymore…" Daziel tried to gently pry her hand from his wrist, but her grip only tightened.

"I don't believe you! You just don't want to be with me!" March 7th's voice rose, cracking slightly with a sob.

This woman is a menace when she's drunk… Panic began to prickle at Daziel. With March 7th this far gone, he couldn't trust himself to stay composed, to not do something utterly foolish. His eyes darted around the room, landing on her water bottle on the table. A desperate idea sparked in his mind. He'd have to knock her out with the steel water bottle, then make his escape. Crude, yes, but the quickest way out of this sticky situation. Her clinging to him wasn't helping anyone.

He quietly reached for the water bottle, preparing to strike while her attention was elsewhere. Daziel consciously loosened his grip, careful not to actually hurt her. She was already tipsy; a hard knock could make things even worse…

However, Daziel would soon regret his hesitation. March 7th spotted the water bottle in his hand. Her vision blurred by alcohol, she mistook it for a wine bottle, a joyful misunderstanding. "Haha! I knew it, Daziel! You would drink with me!" A bright smile lit up her face as she snatched the water bottle and, with surprising speed, tipped it up to her mouth.

"Little March, wait, that's not…" Daziel's warning was cut short as the bottom of the water bottle connected with his forehead with a thunk. March 7th, still happily gulping water, didn't even register the impact.

Then… darkness.

Thud! A muffled sound, and Daziel's vision went black as unconsciousness claimed him. Crap, something's wrong… why did I get knocked out too? Aren't I supposed to be 'King of Durability'…? These were Daziel's last bewildered thoughts before he succumbed.

March 7th, oblivious, hugged the water bottle and took a long swig, smacking her lips contentedly. At this point, water and wine were indistinguishable to her. She glanced at Daziel slumped on her bed, and giggled foolishly. "That Daziel… he's such a lightweight…"

Option 2 (More Dynamic and Immersive):

Just as Daziel shifted, ready to slip away unnoticed, a soft, small hand snagged his wrist. He froze.

"Daziel, where do you think you're going?" March 7th's voice was a velvet slur, thick with drink and a childish pout. Her usually sparkling eyes were glazed over, swimming in a dreamy haze, lending her a vulnerable air. Her lower lip jutted out slightly, a silent accusation for abandoning her company and the drinks.

"I…" Daziel began, words failing him. He hadn't anticipated this direct confrontation, this physical hold. He'd meant to fade out gracefully, not be physically restrained. The more he subtly tugged, the further his plans unraveled.

"Don't you… even like me anymore?" A tremor of hurt vibrated in March 7th's voice. Her gaze locked onto his, pleading, a fragile mix of hope and fear shimmering in her misty eyes.

"Little March, how could I not? I just…" Daziel tried to placate her, to reason, but she steamrolled over his words.

"Then drink with me! Just a little longer? We're family on the Express, aren't we? Is this one small thing too much to ask?" As she pleaded, a telltale redness welled up in her eyes, the glistening prelude to tears.

Daziel's stomach clenched. He knew he was losing control of the situation. This needed to stop, now. He had to extract himself before it spiraled into something truly regrettable. "Little March," he said, his voice strained, "you've had too much. I really can't keep up…" He attempted to gently disengage her fingers, but they tightened their grip like vines.

"Liar! You just don't want to spend time with me!" March 7th's voice cracked, a sob threatening to erupt.

Drunk March 7th… a force of nature. A cold dread washed over Daziel. In this state, uninhibited and unpredictable, there was no telling what she might do – or what he might be tempted to do. His eyes scanned frantically, latching onto her stainless steel water bottle on the nearby table. A desperate plan began to form. A swift, sharp tap to the head… it was brutal, but it was the quickest escape route he could see. Her grip was relentless; polite refusal clearly wasn't working.

Stealthily, he reached for the bottle, poised to strike the moment her attention wavered. He deliberately loosened his hold on the metal, wincing internally. He didn't want to actually injure her, not seriously. She was already half-gone; a real blow could push her over the edge.

But Daziel's caution would be his undoing. March 7th, in her alcohol-induced haze, caught sight of the glint of metal in his hand. Her vision swimming, she mistook it for a bottle of wine, a sudden, joyous revelation. "Ha! See? I knew you'd come around, Daziel! You do want to drink with me!" A radiant, drunken smile blossomed across her face. With surprising agility, she snatched the water bottle from his slackened grasp and, in one fluid motion, upended it towards her mouth.

"Little March, no, that's…" Daziel's protest died in his throat as the base of the bottle collided with his forehead – thwack! – a sharp, unexpected impact. March 7th, still happily drinking water, remained blissfully unaware of the accidental assault.

Then… oblivion.

Thud. The world dissolved into darkness, a muffled sound the last thing Daziel registered before consciousness fled. Wait… what? Why am I out cold? Aren't I supposed to be… durable…? These fragmented thoughts were his final, confused whispers before the blackness consumed him.

March 7th, oblivious to the chaos she'd unleashed, hugged the water bottle close, taking another satisfied gulp. Wine, water, it was all the same to her now. She glanced down at Daziel, now a crumpled heap beside her bed, and let out a silly, bubbling giggle. "Daziel, you're such a lightweight…"

The room was silent except for March's uneven breathing. Drunk and flushed, she stumbled toward Daziel's unconscious form, her steps unsteady but determined.

"Mou~ It's your fault, you know?" she murmured, her voice syrupy and thick with intoxication. Her lips formed an adorable pout, her eyes glinting with a mix of innocence and something darker, more primal.

"Why do you have to be so… tempting?"

She collapsed onto him, her soft curves pressing against his chest. The contact sent a shiver through her, and she let out a low, breathy laugh, as if amused by her own boldness. Her mind, foggy from the alcohol, conjured images from a forbidden book she'd stumbled upon during her travels—images that now blended dangerously with reality.

"Daziel… you better wake up, or…" She trailed off, her words slurring as she struggled to stay upright. "Or I'm going to do something you'll never forget…"

Her hands fumbled behind her, trying to steady herself. "Dazieeel~" she sang, drawing out his name in a playful, teasing tone. "I'm starting to feel guilty… but I can't stop thinking about you…"

As she spoke, her hand slid down his body, brushing against something firm and warm. She paused, her fingers curling around it instinctively.

"Hmm… what's this?" she murmured, her voice a mix of curiosity and mischief. Her hand began to explore, moving up and down, feeling it grow harder under her touch.

"It's so big… and it's getting harder…" She gave it a tentative tug, trying to pull Daziel closer, but his body tensed in response. March gasped, her eyes widening as realization dawned.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!" she stammered, her voice trembling with concern. Her hands shook as she turned to see what she'd been holding. When her gaze landed on Daziel's fully exposed member, her face flushed an even deeper red.

"I-I didn't mean to… I'm sorry!" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers tightened around him, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. Her breathing grew heavier, her voice soft and hesitant. "S-so this is what it's like?"

March's vision blurred, her thoughts muddled, but she pressed on, determined to make amends. "As an apology…" she murmured, her voice sweet and lost, yet carrying an irresistible innocence.

Her body burned with heat, her panties damp as her breasts grew more sensitive. She leaned in slowly, her lips forming a pout as her flushed face hovered over him. Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

"I'll give it a little kiss…" she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.

Her lips brushed against him, and Daziel's member twitched in response, as if alive and aware of her proximity. March's warm breath ghosted over him, and then—

Muack.

The sound of a wet, smacking kiss echoed through the room, followed by a soft sigh of satisfaction from March. She licked her lips, savoring the salty warmth, before collapsing beside him, her body spent and her mind drifting into unconsciousness.

The room fell silent once more, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing.

The next day, when March 7th finally woke, over ten hours had already slipped by.

Slowly, March 7th's eyelids fluttered open. The familiar warmth of her room greeted her – the blue and white wallpaper, the starry sky ceiling above. A throbbing headache pounded behind her eyes, a relentless pulse as if countless needles were stabbing her brain.

She massaged her temples, desperately trying to piece together the fragmented memories of the night before. Her mind was a fog, swirling with disconnected images. She could grasp at only a few things: drinking with Daziel, then Daziel holding the wine bottle, teasing her, refusing to let her have more… and then her reaching out, trying to snatch it away…

After that, everything dissolved into a blank void.

She pushed herself up, a groan escaping her lips, and then noticed the state of her dress. It was rumpled and askew, the shoulder straps had slid down, brazenly exposing the pink bra beneath. March 7th glanced down, and her breath hitched in her throat. Her skirt, too, was bunched high around her waist, leaving her legs bare and pale in the dim light.

Well, that in itself wasn't the end of the world.

But then her gaze drifted to her side. And there, beside her in the bed, lay another person.

Daziel.

His shirt was gone, his broad back turned towards her, bare and exposed.

"Ah!"

A sharp, involuntary shriek ripped from March 7th's throat. Panic flared, and she scrambled to straighten her clothes, her fingers clumsy with haste.

Daziel remained asleep, oblivious, his face relaxed and peaceful, a hint of weariness etched onto his handsome features.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat. Flickers of memory, sharp and unsettling, began to return. She vaguely recalled clinging to Daziel, a desperate grip, not wanting him to leave, and her grabbing for his "wine bottle"…

Could it be? Had she, last night, in a drunken haze, actually done that kind of thing with Daziel?

Crimson flooded March 7th's face. She couldn't bear to pursue the thought, her mind reeling in dizzying chaos. She had no idea, not the slightest clue, whether they had crossed that line or not.

Oh, please let them not have.

But if they had… the implications were terrifying.

She was still, undeniably, a maiden! How could she have possibly done something like that?

And it wasn't even allowed on the Astral Express, was it…?

While the Astral Express championed free love, drunken indiscretions were surely not tolerated! If Himeko found out… would she be thrown off the Express Crew?

The thought brought tears prickling to March 7th's eyes. She bit down hard on her lip, fighting back the sob that threatened to erupt.

Just then, the jarring shrill of her phone sliced through the tense silence of the room.

March 7th jolted, her body leaping in surprise. She snatched up her phone, her fingers trembling, and saw the caller ID: "Himeko."

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she wrestled to regain control of her spiraling emotions, and then answered the call.

"Hello, Himeko…" March 7th's voice wavered, betraying her inner turmoil.

"Little March, I noticed your door was closed. Are you in your room?"

Himeko's voice flowed from the phone, gentle and reassuring as always.

"Yes… I am," March 7th managed to reply.

"Didn't Daziel go with you to Belobog for the festival?" Himeko continued, "I just checked the storage room for him, but his cardboard box is empty. Only your door on the Express is closed. Did he not return with you? Do you know where he might have gone?"

Why does Daziel sleep in a cardboard box in the storage room? Because the protagonist having their own room is something that happens many versions later…

Himeko's words sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing through March 7th. Her heart plummeted.

Casting a furtive glance at Daziel, still deeply asleep, she stammered, "I… I don't know either…"

"What's wrong with your voice? Are you feeling unwell?" Himeko's gentle perception was as sharp as ever, instantly picking up on March 7th's distress.

"No… nothing like that…" March 7th choked back a sob, quickly improvising an excuse to mask the truth. "It's just… just that Belobog snack… that super spicy salamander jerky… and the spice… it burned me… Waaah, waaaah, so spicy, so spicy…"

_______

Hey there! I'm Walnut-chan! 🌸 I'm translating this fanfic and restoring some +18 scenes that were cut from the original work—since explicit content isn't allowed in China. I went through everything carefully and reinserted the scenes while staying true to the story! Hope you enjoy it!

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I put a lot of love into these translations and plan to add even more over time! Let's aim for the top of the site! Who knows... maybe I'll go crazy and drop even more chapters! 🚀🔥