Chapter Text
“The Cat’s Eye” wasn’t a hard store to miss, the large windows letting those passing by the main street to look into its wares and the sunlight allowing the gem colors to delicately stream onto the darker walls. Cecilia had to admit that despite its unassuming appearance, the jewelry store got quite the stream of customers throughout the day: flustered young adults looking for engagement rings, wives and their exasperated spouses looking at “ideas” for Christmas gifts, or the occasional older business man trying to fix a watch.
It wasn’t unwanted however. It kept her busy enough to stop thinking about her.
Today, Cecilia wasn’t as fortunate. The rainy weather that morning had kept most people off the sidewalk and the new orders of inventory seemed to have been delayed by the downpour outside. She was beginning to contemplate cleaning, of all things, around the store by the fifth time she was dusting over her blazer and readjusting her cufflinks. It wasn’t entirely her fault, Raora said the store wouldn’t be back with her week’s supply of tea leaves until later in the week, and fiddling around with the store’s rings proved unfruitful due to her fingers lacking the required human elasticity. There’s a floating fantasy that lingers when she had put them on, but she shot them down as quickly as they came.
It wasn’t a minute later until she started walking over to one of the front window shelves with a microfiber rag before she knew it. Her gears stuttered before she threw it aside. Cecilia let out a deep groan. ‘Dammit’. She wasn’t going to let the rain, of all things, win her over on cleaning the store so early.
Despite being waterproof, Cecilia was always affected by the rain in other ways. She had usually made good on staying tucked away in the store, or some room in the back of the apartment she owned above the store with a cup of something warm. Her next mistake was the deep breath she took. Her receptors were overridden with a deep scent of mist and earth, filling her with some anecdote from long ago: the half-forgotten sound of laughter and someone playing in the rain while she stood a distance away. She can’t decide whether or not to be thankful that she’s beginning to forget or if she’s deathly afraid that the automaton’s memories of her are starting to slip.
The truth is, she has been forgetting for a while now. She’s afraid that if she forgets, it’s as if Gigi never existed.
She can’t remember the rhythm of Gigi’s steps, or the pulse of her heartbeat, and she almost forgets the way Gigi snores in her sleep. There’s a slow memory that creeps to her where Cecilia is teasing her about it, the exact conversation frustratingly long forgotten, but she never found it anything less than endearing.
Something primal, something that wasn’t in her original programming, has Cecilia scrambling quickly to a small, tucked away drawer behind the front counter. She chides herself for not being able to compartmentalize better. She has a store to run, gods be damned. It doesn’t stop her frantic hands as they claw into the compartment until her knuckles brush past a familiar wooden surface. When she pulls the small box up, there’s a windup key in her fingers that she’s holding onto like a life line, and she’s already turning it with practiced haste. Lightly breaking through the pattering of the rain, a familiar tune twinkles from the box, like enchanted sparks flickering out from a campfire, and brings Cecilia back to a place that, deep down, she knows she could never forget.
The first memory of music, of anything, came to Cecilia in the form of soft winds– echoes of something whispering in the woods across the flower field, and a voice.
Her vision barely starts to unblur, giving her glimpses of a soft gold halo cradling a head with burnt ends where the sun had held them for a bit too long. It’s almost blinding against the sunlight, and she can’t help but to squint her eyes.
“Oh gods it's alive-,” and the voice is as elegant as a shotgun. “Please don’t eat me! I promise I don’t taste good!”
“I’m an automaton- We don’t even eat people!,” Cecilia’s vocal chords had barely stabilized enough to protest before she unsteadily pushed off the warm earth below and dusted her dress, “Besides, I doubt you even taste good.”
“Excuse you- I’m free-range, grass-fed, and taste very good!”
Cecilia gets the chance to give a onceover to the girl in front of her: her wild hair with disobedient loose strands, the dirt stained cloak that almost engulfs her frame, and her proud sharp grin, “Yeah, you do look like you eat grass.”
“Hey!” A smile starts to crawl onto the automaton’s face.
“And I thought you said you didn’t taste good either–”
“I was lying!!”
Something strange and bright starts bubbling underneath Cecilia’s ceramic plates, “Well, free-ranged grasseater,” she extends a hand, “I’m Cecilia Immergreen… although, I can’t seem to remember much more.”
Pink eyes stare down at the offending outreached limb, before returning the gesture, “You don’t have some robot overlord you need to serve or something?”
“Right now, I have no one else but you.”
Cecilia felt the grip on her hand flinch tighter.
“Mmmm… Maybe you could come with me!”
“Are you sure?”
“Why not, it'd be fun! Although, if you’re tagging along, you’re going to stop having to call me grasseater-”, her other hand comes to point at her chest, “It’s Gigi. Gigi Murin.”
“Gigi Murin..” Cecilia repeats, feeling the weight of the name on her tongue.
“And don’t you forget it!”
“Cecilia!!,” a familiar voice brings her out of her daze, “I’m back!”
The sight of pink hair brings a small smile to her face and she tucks away the music box into its place, “I hope getting the new shipment didn’t give you too much trouble.”
“Agh, don’t get me started!” Raora throws the box in her arms onto the front desk firmly, landing with a slight thump, “I forgot to bring an umbrella and the thunder and rain is so much worse downtown, look!”
Green eyes start to follow Raora’s hands as they bring her tail forward to view, “Seems like you got soaked out there. Did you want me to get you a towel?”
“Please–”
Cecilia quickly goes to the back of the shop to fetch a few towels from the drawer, kept there for any potential drink spillage that would have happened while off-duty. Upon her retrieval of the towels, she’s greeted to the sight of Raora beginning to open the contents of the package. “I hope it wasn’t too lonely without me around Ceci, did Mr. Furuwaka come for his watch yet?”
“Not a single soul’s come in since it started raining this morning.”
Raora’s ears flatten a bit at the news, “That’s a shame, but look what we have here!” Her ears pop back up high, hazel eyes shimmering lightly with sky blue as she shows off a small trinket in her hands, “I managed to snag this antique cat statue for super cheap! It’s probably the oldest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on! Well, except for that violin of yours.”
Cecilia’s eyebrows furrow an indistinguishable fraction while she begins to comb through the various wares Raora had secured, noting the number of rings, clearly prepping for the ensuing winter season. “Is that so?”
“Mhm! Y’know, you could always take your violin hanging off the wall to play if you’re ever bored in the store Ceci.”
A wry laugh leaves the automaton as she nervously pulls on her bolo tie, eyes flicking quickly towards the instrument displayed on the store’s wall, “You know I’m not going to touch that old thing no matter how many times you ask Raora. Plus, I’d probably be rusty. I haven’t played in a while.” If one could call 300 years a while.
“It’s always worth a shot- I’ll get you to crack one of these days Ceci!” Raora moves in close to pat a playful hand on the automaton’s shoulder before properly getting a good look at her, noting how weary she looks. “Hey Ceci, are you alright? You look so tense. Did someone steal the last of your favorite package of tea leaves?” Cecilia curses her perceptiveness that came with her god eyes.
“I think it's just the weather catching me and a lack of sleep. I’m just a bit tired is all, nothing a good night of rest can’t fix,” Cecilia plays off after a long moment. She knows it’d take a miracle for her to sleep well at night. She hadn’t felt what it was like in years, not that she was counting.
“I could always get you some tea from the cafe down the block Ceci, I was planning on getting a coffee for the weather too.”
“Oh, yes please, Raora. I’d really appreciate it. And don’t forget your umbrella this time!”
“Of course, I’ll be right back!” The panther left, leaving Cecilia alone in the shop once more. At least this time she had something to do, and is fast to get to work. Neither the violin nor the store’s cleaning will be getting their chances today. Her excitement gets mildly curbed by the effort she has to put into lifting the box off the counter in the first place, but she manages to set it down by the first glass case she’d be working on.
The familiarity of putting rings onto the small rows of plush display stairs gets Cecilia into a stable rhythm. It has her feeling, for once, like a well-oiled machine. She starts to write little titles for each of the pieces like clockwork, and plants small neon paper stickers to remind Raora to appraise them for their prices.
Then the bell rings.
“That was quick– Did you forget your wallet again, Raora?” Cecilia smiles and stands to turn to tease the panther, except the person at the door isn’t who she's expecting. Her smile cracks within a millisecond. The metaphorical breath leaves her. Her receptors can barely keep up with what she’s seeing.
Soft gold halo with sun-burnt ends. Oh.
Electric pink eyes that had her wires twisted.
Oh.
Nicely tailored suit that brought out her frame. Now that’s just cruel.
And a ring, crowned with amber and magenta gems as bright as her smile, between her fingers, “Hey! I was wondering if I could get this wedding band refitted?” Oh.
It feels as if something’s come in to shatter Cecilia’s ceramic shell. The familiar ache in her chest seems to bloom tenfold as the loving hand that’s always held her “heart” decides to squeeze violently and lets the aftermath splatter and fry her wire endings. Every slow tick of her gears gifts her another sharp pang into her unstable system. Her eyes can barely focus on the words coming out of a familiar mouth as the electrical whine in her head grows blinding. She’s convinced that she must be dying again.
After 300 years of waiting to meet Gigi again, Cecilia Immergreen wants to do nothing else but run.