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Mooncake had long since given up hope for any other rolling stock to say her name correctly.
She remembered arriving at the Apollo Victoria Railyard, suitcase in tow, fully prepared to introduce herself using her name. But after watching one of the Marshals take ten attempts to pronounce “Ruhrgold” correctly, she realized that using a nickname would be in her best interest. It had taken her a little while to respond to “Mooncake” instead of her real name, which had made her seem more scattered than usual. She responded to Mooncake, she responded to Moonie, and she tucked her real name away in a small box inside her mind for her own safekeeping. Electra had taken to calling her Moonie within minutes of them really talking with her, all of her disguises gone. They hadn’t given her any reason to suspect that they knew she was hiding something.
So when her partner rolls over in bed and asks about her name, she's more than a little bit shocked.
"Of course Mooncake's my real name," she says with a good-natured laugh, tucking tricolored strands of hair behind their ears. It's a wonder she has ever managed to see their hair unstyled. (And it’s a pain to get caught in the hairspray fumes, but that, to her, is beside the point.) "Why wouldn't it be? There's a Dining Car named Dinah and an Italian Engine named Espresso. What's so different between me and them?"
"Nothing." They cut themself off abruptly, as if they're questioning why they even asked the question in the first place. It's just like them to toy with her, to ask a question and then pretend they never did. She hasn’t figured out why they do this; it’s not like she would be unhappy to answer them. "It's just puzzling.”
"Lec. What's that supposed to mean?"
Electra only taps their nails on their plating in response.
As far as she knows, she's Mooncake. She tried to be someone else and quite literally crashed and burned. There's nobody who she can successfully be but herself. Who is she if she's not Mooncake, baggage and all? Mooncake is a Coach who likes to sing, dance, and laugh. Mooncake is a Coach who is re-learning how to race. Mooncake is a Coach who has earned the affections of the most striking Engine in the Apollo Victoria.
"Mooncake seems like a name you gave yourself. It's almost too apropos," they remark, staring at her through long lashes. "It suits you a little too well. Dinah's Dinah, through and through, but do you really think the Italian Engine was really named Espresso?”
"Maybe, maybe not, but I never bothered asking. Espresso's a little scary." She doesn't mean to dodge their remark rather than answer their question, but old habits are hard to kick. And Espresso is intimidating. Unlike Electra, Mooncake doesn't have a star-studded racing record to legitimize herself. She couldn't just skate up to Espresso and claim that his name was not really his name. "That's beside the point. What makes you think that the nickname Mooncake suits me?" She teases.
"Naming yourself as a dessert aligns with the good-natured, feminine image you display in public. Besides, mooncakes are... sweet. So are you," they admit, their words growing quiet. She flushes as their praise washes over her. For all of their charisma and sensuality, it's these unplanned compliments that she savors the most. Not many trains get to see the Engine of the Future so vulnerable; she's lucky to be one of the chosen few. "But there's more under the surface than sweetness. I've seen you be utterly ruthless on the tracks. It is something I quite enjoy, especially considering how much you've struggled with racing in the past."
"And your point is?" Mooncake raises both eyebrows. If she tells Electra they're correct right now, they'll never let her live this down and they'll probably butcher her real name. If she doesn't tell Electra the truth, they'll keep on annoying her until she does. "Why are you asking me this question and not Espresso?"
"Because you're my girlfriend." Electra replies matter-of-factly, all traces of vulnerability gone, and pulls her closer to them. "I do not entertain those who are unworthy of my company with such questions."
"Well, then. Let's say I tell you my real name. Are you going to go around releasing this secret to the whole Railyard, or is this just for the two of us and all my friends back home?"
"Just because I'm a celebrity doesn't mean that all my affairs are public knowledge. What makes you think I'd so readily give up a secret as treasured as this?"
"You had Killerwatt do a background check on me before I started dating you."
"The security of my components and I was of utmost importance at the time."
"If you wanted to know everything about me, you could have just asked!" As a non-powered Coach, Mooncake did not feel the telltale electric current under her fingers that meant she could zap her partner, but she remained capable of lightly punching them on the arm. "By the time Killerwatt had done that background check, I was prepared to tell you pretty much anything." The unspoken presence of what she had not been willing to tell them for the longest time lingers in the air. Electra had gotten an inkling of an idea based on Mooncake's pre-Apollo Victoria track record, but they had at least waited for her to tell them the full story rather than paying their bodyguard to dig even deeper.
"You're right though, yeah. Mooncake is a nickname. Everyone uses it, but it's not technically my name."
"I KNEW it!" Electra grins and gives their girlfriend a light zap on the shoulder, chuckling as she yelps from the shock. "So what's your real name, Moonie? And how'd you even get the nickname? Did you make it up?"
"Wow, Electra. One question at a time." She grips their wrist and moves their hand away from her, still feeling a residual buzz in their shoulder. It isn’t painful, not by any means, but she would rather not be shocked twice in short succession. "I didn't make the nickname up, no. Lanhua did."
"Was it on account of your temperament?"
"It wasn't because of my temperament, or any other assets of mine, for that matter. It was because I ate way too many mooncakes one Mid-Autumn Festival and slept so deeply I missed a whole day of work."
Mooncake, always an early bird, does not look back at the food coma fondly, but she remembers the intricate imprints of the mooncakes that Lanhua had brought to their shed at the Depot back home. She smiles as she recalls how they had excitedly shown her the box, describing the flavors of each of the cakes enclosed inside. Their chest had swelled with pride as they pointed out one with their name and their racing insignia imprinted on the top. It had been to commemorate their first large-scale victory. It was just about the most delicious thing she had ever eaten. She wonders if Lanhua's off preparing for the Mid-Autumn Festival somewhere else. She wonders if someone else has made another commemorative mooncake for them, or if she'll have to sketch a design herself and mail them pictures of her sad attempt to bake it into reality alongside Dinah.
Electra bites their lip, clearly stifling more laughter. For a moment, she entertains the possibility of showing them her home. They'd complain and complain about being too hot or too moist or about having a diet to stick to, and she'd laugh about how rolling stock didn't need to eat to maintain their health and poke fun at their meager excuse. But home is far away and home is here. Home is the easy life she was given with her family and home is the vibrant life she carves out with her partner and her new friends.
"So what I'm hearing right now is that the only way for me to get five more minutes with you in bed is to learn how to cook. It’s that easy." Mooncake rolls her eyes at their remark. She had seen her partner cook. It had been a hot disaster. It had become a cold disaster once Joule and Volta started bickering over how to stop scrambled eggs from burning. To be fair, she wasn't much better. She couldn't cook unless she had a cookbook to follow to a T or a Dinah there to compensate for her many culinary shortcomings.
"No, silly! All you need to do is ask. I haven't figured out why anyone would pass up the opportunity to spend time with you."
"Duly noted. And your real name?"
Lanhua always said that she had been built under a new moon. However, they had only come up with a name for her once the full moon emerged, the moonlight giving her white plating an otherworldly gleam. The effect had been temporary, but the name had stayed.
"Yueguang. Don't try to pronounce it right now," she lifts up a finger to shush them. They're ambitious. She knows they're going to try to repeat her name and then get mad when they mess it up, and they're both too tired to deal with such frustrations in a productive manner. "I decided to go by Mooncake when I'm here so I don't have to risk other trains messing it up. Please continue calling me that in public.”
"A pretty name and an understandable decision," they muse, running their hands over her arm. "Nonetheless, I am grateful that you trust me with this secret of yours, although I am not familiar enough with Chinese to know the meaning of the name itself."
"Moonlight," she says, after a few second’s pause. "It means moonlight."
The moon's rays let her see the realization dawn in Electra's eyes.
Yueguang means moonlight.
Electra had called her their moonlight many times. When she had asked them where the term of endearment came from, they said they didn’t know. She knew that was a lie, but she didn’t push it further; she trusted them to tell her when they were comfortable. They're the kind of engine that has a reason for everything they do.
Chances are, they're probably thinking of how often they had used the nickname around her. Surely they’re capable of putting the pieces together. But, oh, they're never going to let her live this down.
"Yueguang," they whisper, pronouncing her name perfectly, their manicured nails buried in her short black hair. "Don’t listen to your schedules. Will you sleep in with me when we both wake up?"
"I'd do anything for you, Electra. Of course I will."