Tried a different approach to storytelling.

Thank you very much to those who left feedback and favs. I'm glad you enjoyed the last one.


milliner (noun) – one who makes and sells hats

[It's only one side of the story.]

Ah, who's this? Come, come. Closer to the bed, won't you please? These eyes don't work as well anymore.

That's it. You look like a new face. Haven't seen you 'round here before, have I? My mind is the only good thing I have left… Ah, a volunteer! First time? Welcome, welcome. Hate to be a bother but would you fetch me another blanket from the cubby? It's a tad chilly.

Thank you. Always a pleasure to have you folks 'round. Always so gracious to old men on their death beds.

No no, don't bother sugar-coating, kiddo. Look at all these machines. I know this body's limits. Surprised me holding out this long, y'know, but I can feel it.

Hahaha, *coughs* a big softy, aren't cha. Know what, let's forget the maudlin stuff. How 'bout a story. Tell me 'bout yourself.

Ah, not much of a storyteller are you. It's fine, it's fine. How 'bout I tell you one? Pardon the stereotype, but I have many lengthy ones befitting of my age. We're both here for a while anyway.

Ha, you don't say. What do you like? Comedy? Thriller? Ah, I'm afraid I don't have action *chuckles*. Romance?

Mystery, you say. Hmm, speaking of, there's one that I still don't quite know what to make of. Two people to be exact. Oh, you're interested?

Sit down. Make yourself comfy.

So, I used to be in Bear before here. Ran a rickety trinket shop in a small town. You know Abi? Right, it was small and quiet before the development project. Partly why I listened to the kids and came here.

It was a Thursday, I remember. We were witnessing the kind of humid heat that soaked like a small shower. I can still smell the old leather in the shop that day. The place was starting to show its age, but it kept me busy.

I was wearing this exact sweater, in fact. It don't look like much anymore, but the wife made and gifted it on my 68th year. *coughs* I had to turn on the AC, you see, even though it wasn't the best for my throat. Beat getting a heat stroke living alone y'know, if you ignore the bill.

Not to mention, my good friend Uru lived ten minutes away. She got the town's eatery and ah…one hell of a mean slice a' cake for dessert. She checked on me from time 'a time. Hardly the neighbourly thing to do to give her a heart attack lying on the floor, don't cha think?

But ah, I digress. So, here was a small town where the people were few and the land thick with trees and untamed grass. People just didn't visit there, and those that did were only following a scenic route to get to the Haze National Park two towns over.

It wasn't peak season either, so I thought I'd just close the shop early. No one was gonna be in the mood for old trinkets in that torrid weather anyway.

Was just 'bout to turn on the TV when I heard the doorbell tinkled over the AC's petulant hum. I was just happy to be proven wrong, haha.

So, this tall, dark-haired stranger stood in my doorway and removed his sunglasses to cast a wide glance all 'round. Then his dark eyes locked on me and walked straight up to the counter. Slowly, y'know. But the sureness in his steps struck my attention.

Many customers have walked through my door, but they were never like that – sure. Yeah, they had a purpose coming in—to tour, to wander and browse, but those were never purposeful. That young man was.

It was curious, to say the least.

He was young, perhaps late twenties or early thirties. Clean-shaven. The sleeves of his button-down were neatly rolled up to his elbows, and I distinctly remember the expensive silver watch on his right wrist.

Very handsome lad, that one, and I'm not exaggerating. Had all the sharp, brooding features you find on a magazine's cover. Girls woulda ate him right up. *chuckles* His looks aren't ones to forget.

He wasn't much for pleasantry, though, and only gave a curt nod in greeting before turning to the five hats I had on display. With some proper city accent, he kept his tone low and to the point when he asked me if those were all. Prolly used to the big selections in the city, y'know.

I figured he was thinking of a lady, so I told him I made them myself. The ladies do fancy those handmade stuff, don't they?

Ah yes, I made hats *coughs* in my free time. Nothing special, kiddo. No need for empty flattery. But ah, that's the kinda reaction I usually got. That young man didn't even blink *chuckles*.

He just gave one of the hats a brief tug to test the material and just told me, "Hn, it's well made." Haha, just that. Sounded more like an offhanded statement than affirmation of his interest or even nicety, y'know. Like he was giving an answer to a boring pop quiz.

By then I was growing a little nervous. Now I don't claim to read people that well, but I did get a lot of practice with tourists standing behind the counter. I couldn't read this tourist at all, if he was even one, and it worried me.

He had that casual sort of strength wired in his form. Towered a full head over me when I could still stand straight, mind you. I remember comparing to his arms that were easily twice my spindly ones.

You think I was overacting, don't you? Haha, I suppose. Living alone at a fragile age, you always form some sort of paranoia. So that you can look back and say you saw it coming. Protect at least your sense of control.

Though I never saw that coming…but ah, I'm jumping ahead.

I asked him if he was going to make a purchase, and he shook his head. I was pretty disappointed. Not as a salesman but a craftsman. I suppose you never grow old enough as a creator to stop caring what others think of your creations.

But then he told me he'd be back with his companion to choose, thanked me and was outta the shop before I could get a word in. Haha. I decided he wasn't the unreasonable sort, at least. Always a welcomed conclusion, that.

No no, I did get to meet his companion. That's not the mystery, haha. *coughs*

So, he came back 'bout an hour later, and she wasn't what I expected. Hiding behind his broad back was a timid little thing. A teenager. Long dark hair. Rather pale, even for city-borns. It seemed like she was curling inward as much as possible, so petite even in the cluttered space of my little ol' shop. Or maybe her escort was just too large in juxtaposition.

She looked at me, and her eyes were a striking green. Said hello. Very courteous kid.

He called her Sakura and told her to pick a hat, so she hesitantly approached me. In that aspect, you reminded me of her a little. Hahaha, I meant no offence.

So, she was looking at my display, and I noticed her hair looked damp. Thoroughly damp, y'know. Not like sweat from the heat, though she was certainly glowing from it and could use some extra coverage. The white one-piece she had on was barely protecting her china skin from the scorch.

She had some real trouble picking, I tell you. Kept looking back to him for rescue, which he gave none, ever the reticent lad. I figured some sort of point was being made between them so I didn't interfere. Only told her of the full-length mirror in the corner and she could take the hats over there.

What was that? Naw, nothing went missing afterwards. This isn't that kinda story, hahaha- *coughs hacks* Oh dearie, excuse me. Patience now, kiddo.

While we wait for her decision, I tried breaking some ice. Real tough work seeing as he was a whole big block of it. *chuckles*

Kept his eyes on the young lady the whole time we were speaking—or I was. His answers were kept short and mostly just one word. A lot of hn's and noncommittal aa's, aye. The few times he looked my way, there was this calculating look in his eyes I couldn't really place.

Paranoia can work both ways, y'know, so I thought from his point of view, I could be the serial killer waiting to herd him and Sakura into my torture chamber. *chuckles*

So anyways, after one such calculating look, he abruptly volunteered a lot of information. I thought it odd even right then, because his body language became much more animated as well. I figured he'd decided even if I was out to stalk and kill his family, he could just snap me in half, haha.

I found out he's the uncle, and that made a lot of things make sense to me. They didn't look much alike at all, and to be honest I was *coughs* I was wondering of their relations. Lived too long and seen too much, y'know.

He told me of his sister, Sakura's mother, resting in the car parked outside. That he was replacement driver because the father cancelled on their trip. That he was exhausted from driving all the way from Leaf, because no one else in the car could.

All my unasked questions were answered just like that, and it was just odd. A little uncomfortable, maybe. Yes, yes, like having your mind read.

Now, I also thought he sounded blasé telling me these things. Like he was recounting someone else's story, y'know. But I chalked it up to his exhaustion. He did look pretty out of it here and there.

Eventually, young Sakura settled on a hat and came back to the counter to ask her uncle for opinion.

I hadn't pegged him for a teaser, but did he tease her, hahaha.

"You're drowning under that thing. Chin up and let me see your face."

"It's not about hiding your forehead."

"Hn, it suits you. You look less like a brat now."

He said all those with a straight face, too.

"Sha-na-ro," I think she said on several occasions. Is that a lingo from somewhere, do you know? Hm. Well, whatever it was *chuckles* I wish I could let you hear the way she said it in exasperation. It was lovely watching them. Their banter.

Always warms my heart seeing families get along, you see. Heavens know I've been far too long without mine. The kids don't even come visit that much anymore.

Do you get along with yours?

I see. Well, for me- Ah, forget 'bout that. I'm digressing.

So, after some back and forth Sakura took a liking to a green paper-braid sunhat with a wide brim, one of my newer products. I told her as much, and her eyes—the green in them practically lit up in this childlike delight, y'know. Her uncle, taciturn git, apparently hadn't told her, and she was full of honest and open awe when she found out 'bout my hobby.

Very lovable lass, that one. I could see right away how the ice block behind her was so taken.

I told *hem* I told her it was nothing special and that I used to make them professionally back in Rain before meeting my wife and moving to Abi. She naturally asked where my wife was.

By then, I had already been by myself for ten years already. My wife had five years over me, y'see. We *hem* We always knew she was more likely to be gone before me, but she still left sooner than anyone would expect of a woman like her.

Sakura, that sweet thing, panicked and was so sorry 'bout bringing up the subject. I assured her I was done mourning. That I was just glad my wife wasn't the one left behind.

Ah, that got both of the younglings into a solemn gloom as they shared a look. I just didn't realize at the time it extended far past empty sympathy.

I tried to clear the atmosphere by asking if they'd like to purchase, and Sakura practically pushed the young man up to me, haha. I realized rather belatedly that it might have looked like I'd told them a sob story to gain their pity and compel business.

I wanted to clear that up, but it felt moot especially because they were going to buy a hat regardless. And once they walked out the door, they'd go on with their lives, and I mine.

We'd never cross paths again, so the nuances of our interactions hardly matter, I thought.

He paid in cash and gave me a large bill so I had to go to the back to get enough change. When I returned, I just knew with certainty I'd walked in on something very rare, very private.

That young man was smiling. Just a tiny little smirk, but ah, the dark eyes that I thought were disconcerting black pits just came alive on his face. He looked years younger.

He told her, "It suits you; I mean it."

And young Sakura just blushed and grinned up at him, my paper-braid creation perching prettily on her head.

Ah, that look on your face. You're beginning to catch on, aren't you? You think it immoral?

Hahaha, you have strong opinions. Well, it's not my place to debate you. I'm almost finished. Won't you listen till the end and share with me your thoughts? Even after these years, I'm still not quite sure what to think.

Excellent. So, I was also at a loss of what to think or feel 'bout the scene before me, which quickly dissipated when they realized my presence. I gave them the change and they left. When that doorbell tinkled and the door clicked shut, I knew I would never see them again.

Or so I thought.

I turned the TV on and I saw them. A different them, mind you, but unmistakably them.

The news anchors spoke with grimness in their voices.

Uchiha Sasuke. 29. Office worker. Suspected of trespass, assault, murder, and kidnapping.

Yamamoto, née Haruno Sakura. 16. Student. Victim of Uchiha Sasuke.

Their portraits were set side by side. It was the very same young man that had stood on the other side of my counter, just in a suit and tie, and though she had a shock of pink hair, she was Sakura, with her heart-shaped face and field-green eyes.

They said he had a past of drugs, violence and gang membership, and it sent an ugly chill down my spine.

They said he attacked the Yamamotos, adopted parents of Sakura, in their home in the dead of night and left them to die. And took her.

I-I felt sick. And I couldn't reconcile for a moment what I had just learnt and what I knew. Or thought I knew. I don't think I've ever quite reconciled the two, to be honest.

Then I thought 'bout the close proximity I had been in with a cold-blooded murderer.

I thought 'bout that murderer near a child.

They urged anyone who knew anything to call in, and I couldn't get to the phone fast enough. Although *coughs* although *coughs hacks wheeze* all I wanted was to run to the bathroom and put my face in the toilet bowl.

The phone was old, you know. Took a bit to register the number and start dialling. Meanwhile I continued to stare at the news and thought about how Sakura hid behind her kidnapper.

I thought about the word victim.

I thought about all the details that were off in their interactions with each other. Or with me. The nuanced little pieces that were falling into place in a narrative.

How there prolly wasn't a mother waiting in the car. Or a father that cancelled on his family.

And how wrong it all could have gone had I turned the TV on at any point of doing business with them.

I also thought about the dull, dead eyes of the pink-haired girl on the news, and contrasted them against the glittering green that had looked upon my humble hat collection.

I thought about his smile.

Most of all, though, I thought about hers.

Yes, I thought about hers…

Oh, it looks like it's time for you to go. Shoulda said something. Don't let me keep you!

You're curious about the end of their story? I didn't follow the news very closely, so I'm afraid I don't know. Told you it was a mystery, didn't I? Hahaha. Makes you wonder, don't it?

Did I report them? Hmm, what do you think? What would you have done in my shoe?

I know it's a lot to digest. I'm a little tired myself, so how 'bout you take some time to think it over at home. We can continue next time?

No problem. You were lovely company to have. Stay safe out there now, kiddo. Let me know your thoughts, aight?