Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

...Consciousness began to return.

Although faint remnants of pain lingered in her body, it was nothing more than phantom sensations etched into her nerves. The true agony had long since faded.

Stelle could feel her control over her body gradually returning, and a blurry figure cloaked in green came into view.

"Hehe, looks like you're awake."

"Ugh…" Stelle's eyes widened instantly, though her expression remained somewhat dazed. This clearly worried the poet before her.

Venti leaned in close, his delicate and fair features coming right into focus.

"Alright, follow me. 'Three-two-one, one-two-three, ahhh——'"

"Three-two-one, one-two-three—wait, no! My body was crushed by the Doomsday Beast, not my brain!"

With a sudden shove, Stelle pushed his grinning face away. Sitting up and rubbing her forehead, her face was a mixture of exhaustion and exasperation.

"Haha, not bad! Seems like you're recovering well. No brain damage—that's a relief."

Venti, still frozen in the pose of being pushed, looked comical and almost sycophantic.

"What's gotten into you? And what about the Doomsday Beast?"

"Oh, that?" Venti chuckled, hopping onto the edge of her bed. "Don't worry about it. That big brute's no longer a threat to the space station."

He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed an apple—one of the fresh fruits Asta had thoughtfully prepared for the station's heroes. Its bright red surface gleamed invitingly.

Taking a hearty bite, Venti's face lit up with satisfaction.

"Ah, crunchy and sweet! Truly, apples are a gift from the gods!"

"...I thought the first apple in the recovery room would be reserved for the patient."

Stelle's tone was faintly accusing as she watched Venti unabashedly help himself.

"Oh, my apologies! It's just… it's been so long since I've had an apple. I couldn't resist!"

Finishing the first apple in just a few bites, Venti grabbed another one and a fruit knife. Tilting his head toward Stelle, he asked cheerfully:

"Do you prefer yours peeled or unpeeled?"

"Either's fine."

"Then how about I prepare both? Personally, I prefer the unpeeled kind."

Venti's hands moved skillfully, peeling the apple and carving it into the shape of a small rabbit.

"Here! Give it a try. I promise apples taste better when they're cute!"

Almost instinctively, Stelle found herself eating the apple slice Venti offered.

As she chewed, her gaze lingered on his slender fingers. For some reason, they struck her as oddly familiar—hands so pale, delicate, and resilient, as if designed specifically for playing music.

Yet, the memory they stirred led back to someone else entirely: the woman whose name she couldn't recall.

Stelle wasn't sure how she felt about her.

Fondness? Not nearly as strong as what she felt for her comrades who had fought by her side.

Hatred? Not really either—she knew so little about the woman.

How could one harbor animosity toward someone they didn't truly know?

These conflicted emotions soured even the crisp sweetness of the apple.

Noticing her troubled expression, Venti suddenly flopped down, resting his head on her lap.

"You don't seem happy. Worried about the space station?"

"...I suppose it's half that," Stelle admitted vaguely.

She wasn't particularly invested in the station's fate, yet it was still a place she had risked her life to protect.

She let Venti stay where he was, his head nestled on her lap. After all, he'd saved her, stayed by her side, and cared for her during her recovery.

Unlike with others, Stelle didn't feel the same distance or caution around him. She could sense that Venti accepted her unconditionally, regardless of how she chose to define herself.

For that, Stelle trusted him deeply.

"Hmm, while I'd love to say everything's fine, the space station did take significant structural damage.

"But that's not our problem anymore. The Legion's threat is gone, and Herta has returned. All that's left is for you to recover."

Venti popped another apple slice into his mouth, glancing up at Stelle's long lashes and the faint unease in her expression.

"And the others?" Stelle asked, looking around her room.

She'd been given a single-patient luxury ward—likely something her companions had arranged for her.

"You mean March, Dan Heng, and Alan? They're fine. They visited earlier but returned to their posts."

Sitting up, Venti leaned in conspiratorially.

"Right now, your room is the calmest place on the station. I'm hiding here to avoid getting roped into lending a paw."

"Paw?"

"Oh, it's a saying—when things get so busy, you'd borrow a cat's paw for help. Basically, it means people are desperate for assistance."

"I see."

Though the phrase felt like trivia she'd never use, Stelle didn't mind this lighthearted chatter.

Their conversation was soon interrupted by a soft beep-beep.

Following the sound, Stelle noticed a phone on the bedside table, its design sleek and gold-accented in the train's signature colors.

"Oh, that's a communicator Himeko prepared for you. She's probably got something important to discuss."

Venti held up his own phone, decorated with harp-themed engravings, and grinned.

"Let's exchange contact info! If you ever want to chat, go out, or listen to some music, just text me!"

"Ah… okay."

Stelle hesitated, unaccustomed to Venti's enthusiasm.

Barely had they exchanged numbers when her phone lit up with a flurry of messages.

Venti: "Hehe, looks like you've accepted my request."

Venti: "Make sure to pin me at the top of your chats. I'll do the same for you!"

Venti: "That way, we can share fun stuff right away!"

Watching him type messages despite being in the same room, Stelle couldn't help but think Venti's personality resembled that of a child.

After pinning his chat, Stelle opened Himeko's message.

Its content was straightforward: a thank-you for Stelle's contributions to the station, an update on Herta's return, and a request for her to meet with Herta personally.

…Himeko.

March had mentioned her—a seasoned member of the Astral Express crew. Perhaps meeting her wasn't a bad idea.

Stretching, Stelle tested her recovery and found herself fit to move. She dragged along a reluctant Venti, who had hoped to stay hidden.

As they made their way to the main control cabin, passing hurried staff and security personnel, many cast them glances of admiration.

"…They seem really grateful to us," Stelle remarked.

"Well, you are the hero of the hour! Even I couldn't resist basking in your glory!"

"Stop being so glib. You're the one who defeated the Doomsday Beast. I just got in the way."

"But if you hadn't stayed behind to help, buying me time, the damage would've been far worse. So don't be modest—accept your well-earned accolades!"

Venti linked his arm with hers, beaming. Stelle sighed, her expression a mix of exasperation and affection.

"Don't twist people's gratitude into some kind of popularity contest."

"Hehe, true enough. You'd have to be a fool to risk your life for fame."

"...Hmph."

Her cheeks flushed faintly at his teasing, and their playful exchange had them looking more like close siblings than comrades.

Among the staff, some whispered fervently about the two, their imaginations running wild. Many deemed Venti the "submissive" one in this dynamic, pointing to their height difference as undeniable proof.

As they reached the control cabin, Asta greeted them warmly. However, she quickly excused herself, muttering something about fetching Herta.

"Odd. She didn't even say hello," Venti remarked, watching her retreat.

"She's probably bringing Herta here," Himeko replied casually, then turned to Stelle with a soft smile.

"So, you're Stelle. I've heard a lot about you."

Their conversation was cut short by a sudden voice.

"I was gone for months, and this is what happens?!"

The speaker was a doll-like girl, her violet eyes burning with arrogance and authority. Dressed in a modified Lolita gown, she exuded an air of superiority.

"Herta, you're back."

Himeko introduced her to Stelle and Venti.

"This is Herta, the station's true owner and the 83rd member of the Genius Society."

"Hmph. Don't bring up that number! With all my accomplishments, it's the worst title!"

Herta's gaze snapped to Stelle and Venti, scrutinizing them with a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

"So, you're the stellaron vessel… and you," she gestured to Venti, "the bard wannabe? You're the ones who trashed my station?"

Her piercing stare narrowed.

"Let's see what makes you two so special!"

---

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