Art Store Angel
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The only sound in the small art supply store was the rustle rustle of paper against paper coming from the girl sitting at the desk in the front. She had short, dark blue hair. It was in a small bun on the right side of her head with a beautiful, plain white, origami flower in her hair right under it.
Her brow was furrowed as she sat in deep concentration. She was trying to make an origami replica of some of the people who came in. She was currently working on a street punk who had come in earlier with short, spiked green hair. His girlfriend needed acrylic paint. The blue-haired girl knew because she was like the store guide. If a customer couldn't find something they either pressed one of the buttons throughout the store to page her over the intercom or they simply approached the desk and asked for directions.
The young girl hated working in the store, it was boring and quiet, and almost nobody came in. It was usually just old women who called her 'dear' and 'hun' and tried their best to relate to her. She had no desire to even speak to them, they rambled on and on about arts. The only art she was concerned with was the art of origami, the art of paper folding. Of course, the old grannies never even mentioned this other than calling it a 'heathen pass time' which really pissed the blue-haired girl off.
As the girl finished her replica the sliding doors opened and two men walked in. One was very short and looked hunched. The girl couldn't make out many of his facial features. The other was very tall and had long blonde hair in a ponytail and had a good majority of it covering his left eye. They both had long, black cloaks on.
They stopped inside the store and looked around. The girl had never seen them before and assumed they must be new in the neighborhood.
"Sasori-no-danna I need more clay, at least until I can order more. Even regular sculpting clay is better than nothing, un."
"If you were prepared you would still have some and another order on the way."
"But I am preparing myself by buying more."
"Let's get your damn clay and leave. Where the hell do we go?"
They both looked around confused. The girl hoped they didn't come over; she really didn't want to get up, much less deal with these two who looked like complete assholes. They walked to one of the empty checkout lines and asked the clerk there which way to go. Of course, it was a girl named Samantha, the snobbiest person you would ever meet. She was reading a magazine and blowing bubbles with her huge wad of strawberry gum. The blue haired-girl really hated Samantha, and Samantha hated everyone.
"It's not my job to guide clueless people around this store. That's Konan's job. Yo Konan, get off your lazy ass and get over here and do your job! Stop making paper airplanes!"
Konan bristled angrily. She was NOT making airplanes. She was doing her job; after all, if she wasn't supposed to sit down would the manager have given her a desk? Besides, there was a huge sign that said 'If you can't find anything, please go to the direction desk this way.' There was an arrow pointing straight to her desk, it wasn't that hard to follow.
Konan stood up and walked over to the checkout. Despite her annoyance she plastered on a fake smile and asked as politely as she could," Hello, what do you need help finding?"
The blonde just stared at her; the one eye Konan could see was as wide as the full moon on a warm summer's night.
"We need modeling clay." grunted the hunched figure.
Konan mentally sighed. She hated when people came in and said vague things like that. Seriously, they had more than one kind of clay and more than one brand and more than one use for the clay. Seriously, some of these people knew nothing about art.
"What kind, color, and brand of clay were you looking for?" said Konan speaking to the hunched figure who seemed to be thoroughly angry at anything and everything.
"Don't ask me. It's for him."
The young girl snorted in annoyance. This sale would never end. She looked up at the blonde who was still staring at her.
"Uh, uh… we need, uh, white clay that's non-toxic and stays wet for awhile. It also needs to be easy to mold. It also needs to be flammable."
Konan raised her eyebrows. White, non-toxic, wet clay wasn't an unusual order. It was the flammable part that was odd. Generally people didn't want clay that could catch on fire. It didn't matter; they had one brand that fit the criteria almost perfectly.
"Follow me."
She turned on her heel and walked back to the left around the checkout lines. Konan then veered right and went down one of the farthest right aisles. At the back or the row on the very bottom shelf was the brand she was looking for.
"Here it is. Do you need anything else?"
The blonde simply shook his head. He bent down and examined the packs of clay, trying to determine if Konan's choice was a good one. The hunched figure simply stood there. Konan walked back to the front of the store and sat down again. Now she had two interesting people to make origami models of. She pulled out her paper and set to work.
The sun was low on the horizon when Konan finally looked up from her work. She was almost done with the second model. Since the sun had almost set that meant it was seven o'clock, the end of her shift and closing time. Rising from her desk, she put her model in one of the drawers and made her way to the door, grabbing her coat off the hook on the wall.
Samantha stepped in front of her. Konan knew this would be bad, not because Samantha had any power over her, but whenever Samantha spoke to anybody it was usually snotty and bad.
"Yes?" asked Konan annoyed, she was tired after staying in the boring excuse for an art shop all day and wanted to go home.
"Konan, I hate to be so blunt with one of my fellow friends here at this workplace, but I feel you're not pulling your weight and need to stop lazing around at your desk. Making little paper sculptures are not work."
This really pissed Konan off. "If there is no one who needs help I am allowed to sit at my desk and do what I please. Those two were the only of four people who came in today. Besides, it's not my fault they can't read the sign that points DIRECTLY to my desk. Besides, you're supposed to help the customers all around, not just pointing at my desk and checking their items out." Konan's face was calm, but her eyes showed a fury rivaling a bull's.
"First of all you're not supposed to do ANYTHING at your desk. Second, I am a clerk, not a damn 'direction desk' helper, person-like thing! I believe it's your job to stand at the door and welcome those who come in and ask them then if they need help!"
Konan could've strangled Samantha. That brat didn't know anything about her job criteria! Obviously Samantha thought she had read the employee handbook, but apparently she had only read her job's rules and thought it applied to everybody. It didn't. Clerks had a much more strict set of rules and regulations, unlike Konan who as a long as she sat at her desk and didn't do anything illegal and was helpful and at least somewhat polite than the manager and the owner didn't care.
"Samantha, next time you want to tell me how to do my job than read my job's rules and regulations in the handbook, than come and approach me. Besides, if you're my 'friend' like you said earlier than approach the manager and do me a favor. Now you have two minutes to get out before I lock up. Good night Sam."
Samantha huffed and stormed out, not bothering grab her designers coat. Konan sighed and gave Samantha a moment to get out of the parking lot before she locked up.
"I'm sure Samantha will either call the manager tonight or see him tomorrow as soon as she gets here. Oh well, it won't be the first time she's told Mike. He knows how much of a pain in the ass Samantha is and he knows I do my job well. I'm not worried about it."
Konan started the twenty minute walk home down the sidewalk to her grandmother's house. Her grandmother had taken care of her ever since her parent's had died in her one of her hometown's many wars. Konan had been seven and had cried when her grandmother had taken her away.
Her grandmother's name was Chilliyo and was an awful woman. She had wanted Konan to be a doctor or something else 'smart', she didn't approve of Konan's piercing, nor her hair color. Chilliyo certainly did not approve of the color of Konan's hair, its style, nor the fact that she kept an origami flower in hair. Her grandmother tried to get her to dye it, but Konan refused. Her grandmother wanted her to find a smart boyfriend who made all A's. Konan hated her grandmother with a burning passion, but until she could save up enough money from working at the art store to buy her own house (she didn't make enough to pay apartment rent) then she was stuck at her grandmother's.
Konan opened the door slowly and crept through the house, not even bothering to take her coat off, lest her grandmother see her and start complaining about who knows what. Konan was not in the mood. She crept up the stairs and made it to her room without a hitch. She flopped down on her bed. Konan remembered grudgingly that she had art homework. She needed to draw a picture of anything.
She figured that tomorrow during homeroom at her high school she could always draw something. She had a 98 average in art so a, F wouldn't mess up her grade. Konan was just concerned about getting a zero since her grandma would kill her. Konan turned on her alarm clock and went to sleep.
"Sasori-no-danna did you see that girl? She's perfect for leader-sama! I mean, she's calm and cool like him, she's perfect, un!"
The blonde was talking excitedly as he and his partner walked down the street after purchasing the clay.
"Deidara you know leader would never consider even going on a date unless it had something in it for him. And no, having love in it for him is not a good reason."
"I'm going to get them set up, I'm sure if leader-sama saw her and got to know her then he would surely like her!"
Sasori sighed to himself, Deidara could be so troublesome. Sasori didn't know anything about love so he couldn't help Deidara, but perhaps it would be nice for leader-sama to have a girlfriend. He might lighten up a little bit. Sasori and Deidara turned a corner and went back through the ghetto to almost in the center was the huge, abandoned, paper warehouse they and their gang members lived in.
