At first, this was to be the first of a trilogy of long one-shots. However, after seeing a 27-page long document on my laptop screen, I decided to spare everyone from the misery. So, I divided this into a 3-shot. Enjoy!
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Remains of the day
Definition: a British term for the end the day, a time where you would reflect on what happened during the day.
--
It would be nearly two years since Tifa had come to town.
It was an old-fashioned town in the mountains. Though it was the late 20th century, the buildings were still made of brick, and no one had air conditioning or a heater. The woodcutter still had a job. Telephones and plumbing were along side wood-fire ovens and stoves. Shops were small, the market place was in full swing, and women wore skirts and dresses rather than pants.
It was wintertime in the mountains, and the cold breeze blew into the teashop whenever the door was opened. Two women, both about the same age, stepped into the shop to restock their tea supply. The small building was saturated with intoxicating smells. The teas were in large canisters on the shelves behind the counter. There were over a hundred of them…green teas, black teas, flavored green and black teas, white teas, red teas, and maté teas. The counter had four bar stools, welcoming any customer to sit and stay for a while. But one of the women was not pleased to be there.
"Let's not waste time here," she snarled. "I'll not stay in the presence of the town trollop."
"I want to try a new tea," her companion replied stubbornly. " You will just have to 'endure' it."
The woman twisted her face in rage but pressed her to keep from yelling. Her companion beamed behind her glasses in triumph and called for the shop's owner.
"Tifa? Are you there? We've come for our usual!"
For a moment there was silence. The light patter of feet came, and Tifa quickly entered from the back room, wiping her wet hands on her apron. Her hair was pinned up, and her bangs were damp from steam. She wore a thick sweater and a long skirt to keep warm.
"Ah Shera!" she cooed. "I've been expecting you all day. Scarlet, I have yours too."
Shera readjusted her glasses and went to the counter. Scarlet stayed a small distance away and pretended to ignore her. Tifa walked behind the counter and put two bags of tealeaves on the counter.
"I just got a new flavor from my source," Tifa said. "Would you like to try some?"
Shera nodded and sat on a stool, despite Scarlet's silent protests. Tifa smiled and walked back through the door.
"What are you…?!"
"Oh, bite your tongue!" Shera interrupted. "You can leave if you like!"
Scarlet dug her teeth into her lip and growled. She sat down next to her companion and waited. Tifa came back with a tray, laden with two cups of tea and a plate of small pastries. She set it before them, and Shera dug in like a child.
"How much will this cost?" Scarlet asked coldly.
"Nothing right now," Tifa answered. "I haven't figured out a price just yet."
Shera sniffed deeply into the mug and sighed in bliss.
"It tasted like marshmallows and were in it," Shera said cheerfully. "It's just in time for the holidays. And these pastries…"
"Fresh from the oven…I actually baked them for myself…"
"Surely, you should think about getting fat," Scarlet replied curtly. "That would be very bad for you, now wouldn't it?"
"I don't gain weight as easily as most women," Tifa countered. "Besides, I can give the extras to the customers."
Scarlet tightened her lip and smiled. The more she smelled the new tea, the more displeased she became. She popped a small pastry into her mouth and chewed with a grimace. Tifa pretended to be oblivious.
Unable to tolerate anymore, Scarlet stood up and took her bags of tea.
"I have more errands to run," she announced. "See you later."
Scarlet left the shop in a hurry, and the door shut behind her with an angry clank. Shera frowned in disapproval and took another pastry. Tifa shrugged and took Scarlet's cup off of the counter.
"Sometimes, I wonder," Shera said. "Is Scarlet a good person or a viper?"
"Let her be what she wants," Tifa replied calmly.
"I strongly believe that she spread those nasty rumors about you!"
"Does it matter who did it?"
Tifa playfully snatched a pastry from the tray and nibbled on it. The front door opened again and a man loosened his scarf as came inside.
"Good afternoon," he greeted. "You have my order?"
"Ah, Vincent…yes. I got you strongest Darjeeling I could find."
Vincent saw a coat rack standing near the door and hung his scarf there. Tifa entered into the back again and came back with a large burlap sack. The smell of this was so potent that it rose above all of the other fragrances in the shop. Shera plugged her nose.
"You don't lie," Vincent commented. "Where on earth do you get these teas?"
"That is a vendor's secret," Tifa answered.
"It's so strong," Shera mumbled, almost in complaint.
"It's good for you," Vincent argued.
Tifa sat the sack on the counter and calculated the sale on the cash register.
"That'll be 42.50," Tifa said. "Use wisely.
Vincent paid her with a smirk. He opened the sack up to smell more of the tea, much to Shera's dismay. He took a generous whiff of the leaves and breathed out as if he were in ecstasy.
"Exquisite," Vincent declared. "I will try it immediately."
"Would you like for me to brew you some?" Tifa asked. "I already have hot water on the stove."
"No thank you, I can manage it."
Vincent saw the pastries and took a handful. He retrieved his scarf on the way out and gave Tifa another smile before leaving. Shera watched attentively over her teacup, and her glasses fogged up.
"I think he likes you," Shera said.
"Not while Yuffie has her beady eyes on him," Tifa responded. "I haven't any interest in…"
"Who cares about competition?" Shera interrupted. "You need a relationship. It could put a stop the rumors…"
"Drink your tea, Shera."
Shera sighed in defeat.
"Do what you think is best."
--
Tifa closed shop at 5 o'clock, just after sunset. Upstairs in her home, she noticed that the logs for the fireplace was going low. It was time to get fresh ones.
But the weather was dreadful outside; the mountainous surroundings of the town were unbearably cold at night. Though, it would have been better to be cold for a few hours than cold all night long. So, she dressed warmly and set out for the town woodcutter.
Outside, it wasn't dark enough to for the street lamps to light up, and the sky was a grayish blue. Children were using their last ten minutes of freedom and played on the snow-covered streets. Other people closed their shops, preparing for another long, cold night. The woodcutter lived on the outskirts of town; not very far of a distance but tedious anyway. He always closed last.
Like always, she went through the alleyway to avoid being seen. Tifa pulled a large wagon behind her; it was flat, wooden board on wheels with leather holding straps. She had found a short cut through the forest to save time, and the teashop was one of the further out buildings in town. The trip was still lengthened by snow.
At first, the trip started out normally. Tifa had no need of a road and knew the way by heart. Perhaps, there was a stumble on a root or two, but nothing unusual. She made her way out in less than a half-hour. Three miles later would be the woodcutter's shop.
In the distance, Tifa saw something half-covered in the snow…something in a bright color of red. It was in her path, so she saw no reason to go and see what it was. As she drew closer, the redness started to glisten, and Tifa stopped. The something looked like animal, but it was too large to be a wildcat and too small to be a bear. The redness wasn't just of the 'animal'; it speckled and stained the snow like paint. Realization came to her, and she forgot to breath. She dropped the wagon handle and ran forward.
A figure lay prone in the snow, still and unmoving. Tifa fell to her knees beside it and frantically swept and dug the snow off with her gloved hands. At first, she wasn't sure of the person's gender, but she eventually assumed it a man. His face was caked in blood, making it difficult to see his features. Tifa found his arm and checked the pulse in his wrist. Still alive.
She gently tried to rouse him.
"Hey! Hello? Sir…wake up! You can't stay unconscious in the snow!"
The man responded in a groan but did not wake up. Tifa let go of him and collected the wagon. She pulled it towards the injured man, and with great effort, she dragged him onto her wagon and strapped him down. She pulled of her own coat and covered him from the cold.
--
Dr. Hojo received a call at his home. His wife, Lucrecia, looked over the stove to watch her husband. He picked up the phone and answered it.
"Yes?" he asked. "Who's speaking?"
He listened and nodded his head without saying a word. Lucrecia leaned back a bit more in curiosity.
"Darling?" she asked.
Hojo gave her a quick salute and finally spoke.
"What type of injuries?" Hojo asked. "Really…cuts all over…alright… I will be there within the hour."
He hung up the phone and rushed to get his tools. He grabbed his coat and hat off of the coat rack and flung it onto the table. Lucrecia turned back to the stove and gave the stew a stir. Hojo went upstairs and came back with his briefcase.
"What's going on?" Lucrecia asked. "Who called?"
"A man was found half-frozen near the forest," Hojo answered. "He's injured."
"Anyone we know?" she asked.
"Let's hope not…by the way, don't tell anyone about it…there's too much gossip going around…"
Lucrecia nodded faithfully and left the stove to help him put on his coat, hat, and gloves. She handed him his briefcase and patted him on the back.
"Save some dinner for me," he commanded.
"It'll be on the stove," she answered. "Just don't come home too late."
Hojo tipped his hat to her in amusement and went out the door in a hurry. Lucrecia came forward to shut the door and watched as he disappeared into the town.
--
The firewood was long forgotten. Tifa had managed to get the injured man on the table and took off all of his wet garments, except for his pants. His face was still masked by blood, to the point that you couldn't tell whether he was handsome or not. His hair had a few speckles of blood, but he was clearly blond. His body, though wounded, was impressively fit and able. Probably a farm worker or laborer.
Tifa was tempted to trace the wounds on his body, but she knew better.
Someone knocked on the backdoor, and Tifa scrambled to get to it. Outside, Hojo stood waiting and looking around. Tifa stepped inside and let him in.
"Thank you for coming so quickly," Tifa said. "He's on the table."
Hojo saw him and handed Tifa his briefcase. He took off his coat and threw it into her arms before approaching the injured man. He pulled his spectacles out of his pocket and adjusted them onto his nose to have a better look.
"Most of them are shallow," Hojo declared. "But they were enough to cause him to lose a considerable amount of blood. He most likely passed out from that rather than the cold."
"But that doesn't matter," Tifa argued. "Shall I hang your coat?"
"Yes."
"And anything else? Does he need anything?"
Hojo shook his head and waved her away. "No thank you. I brought the supplies I needed. Please wait outside."
Tifa bowed her head in obedience and left the doctor to his work.
--
In another plane, the forest was restless. Shadows moved frantically under the trees, as if in a panic. Five shadows in particular stood near the edge of the forest and overlooked the town below. One shadow paced in a straight line while two of them stood behind fourth and the fifth.
"He succeeded!" the walking shadow snarled. "He found the human village!"
"Why wasn't he destroyed?" the second shadow asked. "How was he able to escape?"
"He was with a human girl," the third shadow muttered. "Of course we couldn't have. If we put one scratch on her, that would be against the rules, right?"
The fourth shadow said nothing. The first went forward towards the village, but the fifth shadow stopped him.
"Let me go!" the first one cried. "I will destroy him!"
"That would also be against the rules," the fifth shadow mocked. "We cannot touch him unless he sets foot out of the town. And in a month, we won't be able to touch him at all."
"We are lost!" the second cried in anguish. "What will become of us now?"
"Let's flush him out!" the first replied passionately. "Coerce him to come out and finish what we started. Let's harass the townspeople! It is in his instinct to protect humans…"
The fifth took a few steps through the trees and sighed.
"It is best," he finally said, "that we leave this town and find another to feed on."
"What?!" the first shrieked. "What cowardice is this?"
"It's called being smart," the fifth replied. "Provoking him to meet us head on will only resort in our destruction. People like him do not fall twice."
The third snorted and chuckled. "I here rumors that you live among the townspeople in a human form."
The fifth turned to the third and smiled. "They're interesting me…human are fascinating creatures."
"So it is true!" the second yelled. "You traitor!"
"Traitor?" the fourth asked. "Have any rules been broken?"
The first growled in pent up rage. The second and third buttoned their lips in shock. The fourth chuckled in amusement.
"Do what you wish," the fifth replied. "I won't support you. I'm going back to the village. To sleep…and to think…"
"We've no need for sleep!" the first cursed.
"I like it," the fifth replied. "I like sleep… and books… and tea…"
With those parting words, the fifth shadow disappeared. The fourth began to think.
"So now we know where his loyalty lies," the first whispered.
The fourth shadow stepped forward and disappeared into the night.
"Were are you going?" the third asked.
His friends called out for him, but he did not answer back.
