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Black Heart

Claire was expecting an elderly blacksmith at her front door, bright and early. Because of this expectation, she was naïve enough to think it would be okay to answer the door wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a baggy sweatshirt; no real clothes; no makeup; no shower. There was absolutely no longing inside of her to impress Saibara.

Humming to herself, Claire opened the door during a pause that had followed two booming knocks. When she looked straight ahead – thinking a pair of grey eyes would meet hers at the same level – she saw nothing but buttons on a tan work suit. The smile on her face faded, and her brow furrowed as she looked the unfamiliar person up and down.

A faint smile betrayed the boy's lips and his pale face grew pink. He had a hard time meeting his blue eyes with hers as he muttered, "Ah, good morning."

Claire felt the urge to excuse herself as she closed the door, changed her clothes, and at least put lotion on her face, but she knew she couldn't do that without seeming rude. Instead, she practiced one of her only nervous habits – cracking her knuckles.

"Good morning," she replied. Claire's face grew warm; she mussed up her blonde hair, hoping he would introduce himself before she would have to ask.

He grabbed something he had set aside, something Claire recognized right away from the hearts she had carved into the wood of the handle – her axe, but with a new copper head – and held onto it with the bottom of it resting on one of his beat-up work boots. "I'm, uh, here to deliver your axe."

"Oh," Claire said, smiling and bending over but not laughing, surprisingly amused by her own ignorance. "I see. I was just expecting someone about a foot shorter than you and probably forty years older."

The boy gave a nervous laugh but said nothing else. Claire didn't know what else to say; she wished he would just keep talking, but he seemed to her almost as nervous as she was. Either that or he was just plain awkward. Trying to get something else out of him, she asked, "So you work for Saibara?"

A bemused look crossed his face for a nanosecond before he realized who Claire was talking about. During that nanosecond, a gust of cool wind blew through the open doorway, brushing Claire's bare legs. She shivered, wondering whether there would be a storm later. The guy watched her body tremble; Claire desperately wished she knew what was going through his mind.

"Er, yeah. He's my grandfather." He grabbed the rim of his UMA hat and lowered it so it covered part of his face. By doing that, it revealed to Claire some of his auburn hair.

Saibara's grandson gazed at the clear spring sky, and then quickly said, "Well, I hope you like your axe. It should be easier to use now." He leaned the axe against the door frame and started to leave, but Claire couldn't let him go without knowing his name.

"Wait!"

The auburn-haired boy stopped in his tracks and faced Claire again, lifting his hat so she could actually see his eyes. He seemed honestly curious about what she had to say. "Yes?"

"What's your name?" She gave him a sweet smile, hoping it would help entice him to actually tell her.

His face looked dumbstruck, as if he hadn't been asked that question in years. "Gray," he finally said.

"Gray," Claire repeated, mostly just for herself to remember. Even though her heart was pounding almost as hard as his knocks on the door were, she extended her arm, offering him her hand and a smile. "I'm Claire."

Gray hesitated, not even looking at her hand; but he eventually took it and shook it in a surprisingly firm fashion. The slightest smirk graced his face. "Claire. See you later."

That time Claire let him leave, and she watched as he strode past Odie's doghouse and off the farm. He glanced at her one last time and tipped his hat. She picked up her axe, which was noticeably lighter than she remembered and closed the door in such a way that wouldn't make a sound. After walking up to her mirror, she stared into her bloodshot eyes and at her pimpled nose. She screwed up her face in multiple ways, trying to herself feel better about the way she looked to Gray not thirty seconds before.

Dissatisfied with the condition of her face, she felt there was nothing else to do except cover it with her hands and groan as if she had just gone bankrupt.