white-haired boy cliches {closed}
Books. Books were something wonderful, as Six had learned over more than twenty years of living, and at least sixteen of being completely conscious. She'd never actually found more than four in a place that were completely legible, but no matter what, she'd nab the near-intact ones for later reading at night.
So, with being in this city where things weren't absolutely wrecked, the first thing she actually had bought (don't ask where she got the money, by the way--she'd probably lie) that wasn't food or water was, of course, novels. Stuff about history, technology, everything in this city, though not everything made enough sense to someone who lacked proper "education". She could catch up on learning while riding the trains back to Box Town Alpha which resembled a certain monorail in a few ways.
Surprisingly, the train car she'd taken back was packed with people, and some not-so-human sentient beings. The variety continued with the people who'd gotten on at the next stop; more than the amount of people who'd gotten off, in fact. And that white-haired guy had to be the unlucky one to end up standing.
"...Guessin' you need a seat, mister." Six didn't exactly directly walk up and say it, but there was something to her voice and expression that made it clear she'd intended it for the guy.