Nomura heard the girl's short, quiet steps as she entered the theatre again a few nights later.
"Hello…?" the young woman called into the dim hall. "Is – is someone there?" Her voice echoed.
In the small attic, Nomura sat so still the paper elephant hanging a foot away on the wall wouldn't have noticed her presence.
Below, the girl climbed onto the stage and peered into the orchestra pit and then slipped backstage for a minute. She emerged from behind the curtain with a frown and withdrew Nomura's note. Pen in hand, she started to write on the folded paper.
A prop backstage clanked over, disturbed by the thick curtain's flutter.
The young woman jerked up from her writing and turned a quick circle. When she saw no one, she shivered. "Heh… Is this the phantom of the opera…?" she said jokingly as she managed a hard swallow. "Is – is someone watching me? If you're there, come out!"
A few of the lights on stage cast the girl in a warm, orange light.
"Look, I – I don't want to be a bother. I just – I can't sing at home, and I… I like singing…" The theatre sat silent. The girl peered into the dim rows of seats. "I'm just… going to listen to some music." She pulled out her cellphone – no speaker tonight. "I hope that's okay. I mean – I suppose I could listen at home with earbuds, but… it's always so noisy there." She bit her lip and stared at the floor. "And no one's found me here yet. Please." She looked up into the empty theatre again. "Don't be mad."
When the vacant seats didn't answer her, the girl settled down onto the stage. She tucked one gray sneakered foot behind its opposite knee. "O-okay then. I'll just… erh… listen to my music." After one more wary survey, she tapped the play button.
"Norwegian Morning" from Peer Gynt settled its gentle tones over the theatre and took Nomura by surprise.
"I looked that quote up on the internet," the girl said when the song ended. "I… don't really know the stories of all the plays; I just like the music." She lay on her back, hands folded over her stomach and sighed. "What am I doing? There's no one here," she muttered at the high ceiling and then reached over and restarted the same song. As the clear notes sounded through the hall, the girl allowed a tiny smile and her eyes grew distant. "Pretty…"
Nomura withdrew from the peephole and curled up on the attic floor. She closed her eyes and listened. Even if she couldn't reveal her presence, she could at least offer her company in spirit.
Nomura's mood lifted. She was still closed off, snappy, and generally rude, and she kept to herself, but there was improvement. She was a tiny bit easier to get along with and a hint more relaxed. The change manifested in a desire to decorate her keep. Serviceable posters and programs rescued from the theatre rubbish bins dotted her walls, displaying magnificent scenes from a variety of plays and operas.
On one side of the room she kept once beautiful antique pottery and artifacts the humans threw away or abandoned. In her spare time, Nomura worked to restore the items to their former glory. As she labored, she remembered why she loved working at Arcadia's museum. Hours sped past unnoticed as she painstakingly fitted each piece back together and listened to the gentle music humming from her MP3 player.
The day Jim paid her a visit, she was still in a good mood. Focused on another half-constructed vase, she paid him little mind as he studied an old urn she'd recently finished restoring.
"Wow," he breathed in awe. The young hybrid troll's blue hide blended with the dull grey-blue stone of Nomura's keep. His blue eyes traced the golden lines that laced the white porcelain. "I can barely see the cracks. This was broken when you found it, right?"
"Yes. And a shame it was too," Nomura replied. She straightened and stepped away from her work table.
"It's nice looking," Jim said.
"Looks are not what matter," Nomura glowered. "Artifacts have history! Each line and crafting technique tell of a society – a journey. They are stories by themselves."
"Okay." Jim blinked. "So, what's this thing's story?" He pointed at the urn.
"The design is Anglo-Saxon," Nomura said. "Repainted during the Renaissance." She indicated the gold lines. "These were made to cover up where it originally broke. So much history…" She shook her head. "And it ended up in a sewer."
"How on earth could that happen?" Jim wrinkled his bushy eyebrows.
"More easily – and more often than you would think," Nomura quipped. "Usually, it's some idiot thug. They steal it, and then realize they can't sell it without getting caught, so they toss it. But there are other reasons too. A collector may have died, and his family didn't know the value of the items, or didn't care, so they tossed them aside like trash."
"Well, I'm glad you could save them," Jim said with a toothy smile. He studied the urn again. "It's nice to see you do this."
Nomura huffed and turned back to her work, but she caught Jim's smirk as he shook his head at her.
His expression turned serious again. "Nomura, I'm sorry about how the other trolls treat you. I'm glad you're doing well; I really am."
"Spare me, Trollhunter," Nomura snorted. "I am far from the first being on this earth to be called names, and I certainly won't be the last. I faced wars and death is years past. In fact, if it weren't for this –" she gestured to her work table, "– I would be insufferably bored."
"All right. If you say so." Jim held up his mismatched digit hands and gave her an amused grin. "Oh! And I thought you might want to know. Mr. Strickler and Mom are coming by in two days. Mom said they have something important to announce." He shook his head. "Last time, Mom said she was going to adopt. I doubt they'll be able to top that."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Nomura commented. "You can't predict what Stricklander is going to do." She narrowed her eyes. "That snake."
Jim chuckled. "I'll see you later." He slipped out, leaving Nomura to her pottery.
Editted by dtill359