6/24/10...
The antique shop is red. Red as blood.
It is in the center of two other streets, but attracts little costumers.
It had been three days since Eiri discovered the girl within the Venetian-glass cup. When he first discovered her, he believed he was going crazy. But the more he was with the cup, the more he studied it, he found himself drawn to her.
He sat holding the cup into the sunlight, which show in soft rays across the ancient, unwanted objects of the shop, the hues of the up reflecting in rainbow-like smudges. The colored glows flicker across the room, give shape and shadow to the shelves of plates and porcelain dolls, to the glass animals, the golden lamp-stands, ornate chairs, and the the grandfather clock.
Aside from the boy's gentle breathing, the antique shop was silent. He sat at the front desk, next to the cash-register, one hand holding the Venetian-glass cup, the other relaxed across the table. A name formed on his lips, was made aloud in a soft, wondering voice: "Cossette..."
A young girl passed over the rainbow surface of the glass, running, laughing, from green to red, to blue, to purple, then...gone.
Eiri's heart skips a beat, and he bends over the glass, twisting it carefully in both hands, searching. "Cossette?" he whispers.
A small bell chimes, and Eiri looks up as his friend walks into the shop, greeting the boy with a loud, cheery, "Good-morning, Eiri!"
Eiri snatches open the desk drawer and lays the glass down in one fluid motion, holding his breath until the drawer was closed. "Hello, Mataki." he replies, standing from his place at the desk. Before she got too close, Eiri went around and hugs her.
"Eiri- have the shipment of silverware came in yet?" asks Makati once Eiri lets her go.
"Silver...ware...?" mumbles Eiri, frowning slightly. Makati's eyes narrow, impatient. Then he remembers earlier in the day, a man had arrived with several boxes of silverware from Europe, boxes of which were stored upstairs. "Oh!" he says, nodding. "Yes, yeah..."
"Well go get them and set them up!" snaps Mataki, her large lips pursing.
Eiri smiles, then apologizes again, before running upstairs. "I'll be right back!" he calls.
Mataki walks with a smirk on her face, touching the shelves of unwanted things. Her fingers gather the dust of every sneeze and the filth of every finger that touched the shelves before her; she rolls the gray powdery dust between her fingers, turning it into a dirty ball. She grimaces at it, and wonders if there are any wash cloths around so she can clean up. She looks over to the desk where Eiri had sat, turning her head slow and deliberate.
The bell chimes.
Mataki flinches and looks at the door, where a white-haired man in a white suit enters. Seeing him, Mataki touches her hair more neatly in place, rubs down her dress with her soft, slender fingers. She puts on a winning smile, and bows to the man. "Hello!" she says loudly, "Welcome!"
The man picks up a round vase from a shelf, and turns it, checking it, then puts it back.
"Is there something you're looking for?" asks Mataki, approaching him.
The man looks at her, and she hesitates. His right eye is larger than his left, colored like a clear amethyst gem. He passes a hand through his white hair, and the girl then notices his red stud-earrings.
he tells her, his voice soft, almost musical. I am expecting a guess tonight, and I wanted to dazel him with something...unique.
"Dinner, eh?" says Mataki, clasping her hands in front of herself. "Well, we have some really nice plates, candles, glass-pieces, and portraits." When the man said nothing, she continued more bluntly, "We also have vases, glasses, and-"
"May I have a look at your glasses, please?" he asks smoothly.
"Sure- I mean..." Mataki bowed. "Wait right here." The girl turns and walks around the desk, and opens it, taking out the Venetian glass. She holds it up to the light. "How's this?" she asks.
The man walks over and takes the cup. His thin white fingers pass over the hued surface, and a smile appears on his lips. "Do you have any more of these?" he asks.
"Yes, about a dozen others, sir." replies the girl.
The man places the cup on the table, and says, "I'll take four."
"Okay." Mataki walks back around and says, "Excuse me, but I have to go down to the basement and get them; I'll be right back."
"No hurry," comes the man's reply.
She starts to leave, and he turns back to the glasses. "Oh, sir?" Mataki says, one hand on the basement door. She looks to him, curiously. He stares back. "Are you a regular costumer here? Regulars get discounts."
"No." answers the man. He picks up the glass, and holds it to the light again.
Mataki frowns and leaves down to the basement. She wants to get rid of as many of the glasses as she can, so she figures the numbers in her head- a discount that will, maybe, excite the man into buying more than what he needs. eagerly, she goes over to the large cabinet and takes out three more glasses, wraps them in newspaper, then returns, the glasses rustling softly under her grasp. "Here we are!" she says, placing them on the counter top. "Four-" she takes the glasses from the man's hand, and sets it back on the desk. "-Venetian glasses." she taps on the cash-register, then says, in habit, "The cost is about $700 each," Lying, she adds, "But as a discount, they're only $500 each."
"If I am not a regular here, than why am I getting a discount?" he asks, a thin smile on his lips.
Mataki blushes, then says, in a harsh tone, "Because you've picked the only thing that's on sale!" she says, trying to sound excited. She ends up sounding mad.
He reaches out and slowly moves the two glasses of his choice to one side, and says. "I'll take these two."
"Y-you dont want the other two?" asks Mataki hastily.
The man shakes his head. "No thankyou." he says coldly.
Sighing, Mataki tells him the price, and he pays, plucking the glasses off the counter before she has time to wrap them in newspaper. Mataki glares into his back angrily as he leaves, muttering under her breath.
He pauses at the doorway, and looks at her. "I didn't catch your name." he says.
"M-Mataki, sir!" she says loudly. He nods, then acts like he is leaving. "And what is your name, sir?" Matak nearly yells after him.
He sweeps a hand through his white hair, and regards her with bright eyes. "Muraki Kazutaka, miss." he answers. He then leaves, the glasses glinting under his arm.
Matak smiles. "I hope he doesn't return anytime shortly." she mutters. Turning to the other two glasses, she takes them and returns them to the basement, locking them into the cabinet, where other cups and plates sit and witness what has happened; where a large clock ticks, ticks, listening, waiting. Havering anger and madness.
When Mataki leaves, she makes sure the door is shut tight: The light from the first floor is shunned, leaving the basement in a deep blackness.
...
When Eiri finally came down from upstairs, he holds two large crates of silverware. He places these near the window, saying, "My God.." he wipes the sweat from his neck, and looks over at Mataki, who uses a feather duster across some glass dolls and a vase.
"What took you so long?" Mataki asks, on cue.
"Whoever my uncle bought the silverware from, they didn't bother to organize knives from forks! Urh..." he winces, standing straighter. "There'sat least four other boxes still up there, needing to be sorted..."
"Then why are you standing here? What is taking you so long, Eiri?" demands Mataki. "I already had a costumer- and I need you down here with me!"
"Did he leave?" asks Eiri.
Mataki nods, and begins playing with the feathers of the duster.
"Did he buy anything?" Eiri presses.
"Hm? Yeah. Nothing important, though."
Eiri frowns slightly and looks up at the staircase. "Nothing Important..." he mutters. He glances at the desk, where his valued Venetain glass was nestled, and sighed. He wants to check and make sure it is still there, but he doesnt want to draw attention to it.
Why are you still standing there? Mataki says, her eyes tightening. Is something wrong?
"No..." Eiri starts walking upstairs. "It's nothing important..." he says.
...
When Muraki arrives at his house, he made sure that everything was in place. He put the lamb in the oven, set the table, and lit the candles, and turned water on to boil inside a large pot. He followed the recipe and made a beautiful lemon cake, and while that baked on one oven, he made sure the lamb was coloring in the other. In the boiling water, carrots, raisins, and celery were tossed in to die. He added chicken broth, and sprinkled herbs for flavor.
The last thing, would be the wine. He walked down into his cellar and ran his finger across the hundreds of bottles left to age, and he picked out a vintage, 1960 aged bottle of, Quinta Do Noval, from Portugal. "This will do nicely." he says to himself.
Muraki walks back upstairs and places the bottle in the center of the table. Then he remembers the glasses. He looks over his shoulder to the kitchen, where two nearly-identical glasses sit, their colors flickering in the candle's flames around the room.
He walks over and picks up one of the glasses, wiping any unseen dust from the inside with a cloth, and sets it on the table. He goes back for the other.
"Why...?" a voice speaks out quietly, a voice touched with pain and sorrow.
Muraki freezes, and looks around.
"Why did you take me away...?" moans the voice.
Muraki walks over to the glass and snatches it from the table, staring deeply into the glass. "What are you?" he demands.
Then he sees.
He sees a forest, and his vision is sent flying beyond the forest, focusing in on a large mansion, set upon a valley of green beauty. Muraki glances at one of the windows, noticing movement, and his vision zooms in and through the window, and rotates around slowly. The room is a large bedroom, in which most of the furniture is clothed in red velvet. Portraits of a single girl hang on every wall, and the vision moves more slowly, then stops to settle on a girl, sitting on the bed.
She is the girl from the portrait, but she is dressed in a puffy pink dress with white ruffles, her yellow-gold hair tied neatly from her face with a red ribbon, her bangs curling loosely on her forehead.
Her sad eyes are blue.
"What is this...?" mutters Muraki, his face creasing in worry of the unexplainable. "What are you doing in there?" he asks very quietly.
The girl smiles, then runs, leaving the room. Muraki watches the girl leave, and his vision follows her down a hallway, and downstairs, until a flash of red blinds him, and he looks away.
Blinking, Muraki looks back at the glass, but only sees the colors; no girl, no mansion. No sad, blue eyes.
...
Hours pass, and night arrives. Costumers had came and went, buying very little.
When Mataki decided it was closing time, she bid Eiri goodnight and told him they should hang out more often. Maybe go out for lunch some time.
Eiri only smiled and waved, waiting til the door closed to express how he really felt. Turning from the door, he walks to the desk, saying, "Cossette, can you hear me? She's gone." he reaches the desk, his fingers curl over wooden knob. "We can be together again," he says. But when he opens the drawer, nothing is there but the soft blue cloth he had laid for the Venetian glass to rest on. But the glass itself is gone.
He denies what he sees, and quickly passes his hands around the inside of the drawer, muttering, "No, no...no!" But he finds nothing. "NOOO!" He yells, bringing his hands to his hair. The other drawers... he thinks urgently. He jerks them open and digs around- nothing. He knocks the drawer shut and shoves his hand into another, and continues digging until he accidentally slams his fingers so hard into the back of the desk, one of his nails bends backwards and breaks.
He cries out sharply, recoiling, his blood flying up into the air. He examines his trembling hand, and sees that his right-index fingernail has been split down the middle, tearing into the flesh. Blood oozes out quickly, and red is all he sees. A drop falls and hits the carpet; Eiri backs away, looking between his feet at the blood. Another drop follows. Then another.
"Cossette..." he whispers.
...