Chapter Text
The lights flickered on and the bisque showed off their grand display. Shelves lining the walls with hoards of uniquely shaped pieces were ready to be purchased and painted. And who better to get first picks than the employees at Port Jewelers over at the corner of the street?
Atsushi double checked the tables and cart that were set up last night for him; Eight seats, three chairs on either side and two on each end. The cart had trays on each of its three levels, ready for when the guests finished their pieces. It even included a bottle of black glaze and the tiniest brush you’d ever see to write their names on the bottoms. The party sheet and clipboard was filled out with the details reading ‘Mori Ougai, Port Jewelers, eight people’ as well as a numbered list and empty slots to put everyone else’s name and piece info. It was perfect.
And to make things even more perfect, it was his two year anniversary at the ADA Pottery Studio.
There was a notification on his phone; a reminder he set himself to congratulate him on his two years. It’s been quite the journey. He often finds himself looking over the studio, having an out of body experience as he realizes he was once new. There was once a time he had first laid his eyes over the yellow and black checkered flooring, the green walls that clashed, and the old wooden table and chairs that had their fair share of acrylic paint stains. It was messy, and cluttered, and, again, clashing, but something about it felt like home. The vibrant colors, the sun wafting through the windows, the charm of the bisque and example pieces. All of it so easily brought his mind to ease. It did then and it still does now.
And it’s always times like these that something has to rip him from that reminiscence.
Ding.
The front door opened and in walked a tall woman with bright orange hair and a shorter man with almost the same shade.
“Welcome in!” Atsushi greeted, but before he could continue on, the man spoke up.
“Hey, we’re here for that private event the boss reserved. I assume this is the table?” He walked over, putting both his hands on a chair and leaning on it.
“He means Mori,” the woman chimed in, having realized ‘the boss’ doesn’t exactly describe who the reservation is under.
“Same fucking thing,” the man replied, tipping his hat down just a tad.
“Yes, for Port Jewelers. This is your table. Feel free to walk around while we wait for the rest of your party!” He examined them as they wandered. Jewelers. Jewelry stores. He’d never been in one before, never had the need, but now he has to wonder what people who operate those things are like.
He will wonder, and now he will get his answers. Though, this particular jewelry store might not serve the best example.
“Cute little place. I’ve never been in here before,” the woman said. She wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular, rather, just aloud. Her head was tilted upwards at the teapots on the top shelf. She then shifted her view to the man next to her, then to where his head was. Also on the top shelf, eyeing the wine glasses. “Need a lift?”
“Shut your hole, I’m just looking.”
The woman covered her mouth with a chuckle. Atsushi didn’t mind the foul language, but do other people care about that kind of thing when they’re getting their jewelry? Does he put on a different act when he’s at work? And this woman… She seemed sly. And their hair was so vibrantly orange, way more than the natural red heads he’s seen. And to top it off, this was only two out of the eight people to arrive.
Ding.
“Boss,” the man addressed the other that just walked in.
“Fine day for some arts and crafts, hm?” He had an almost sinister smile on his face, and the air around him said rich. But the way he moved his body around signaled a kind of respect for those around him.
“Hello!” Atsushi greeted. If this was ‘the boss’ then this was Mori, the creator of the reservation. He walked right up to him to properly introduce himself. “I’m Atsushi, I’ll be running your party today. We have your table set up here. The party members are welcome to choose any pieces off the shelf and bring them to where they’ll be sitting. Once set, they’ll need to write their names on the table paper. And last thing, prices are on the bottoms if you needed.”
Mori waved one of his hands in the air, “Prices are of no interest. They can choose whatever they’d like. Thank you.” He joined the other two looking at the display.
The Port Jewelers boss. Atsushi should’ve known pricing was going to be of no issue just by the way he carried himself through the door. It was of slight annoyance he considered the pottery to be ‘arts and crafts’, but no matter, he’d do his job and he’d do it damn well.
His mind started to daydream just as a bigger group of people walked into the studio. And in that crowd had someone that made Atsushi’s mind step into fall. Suddenly, the sun was gone and it was overcast. Pumpkins lined the streets and the smell of rain filled his nostrils. He swore he could hear the sounds of an organ playing in the background while gothic style buildings filled out the skyline.
Black hair with white tips, a black coat that hugged his shoulders, black paints that weren’t too tight but weren’t too loose, and black boots that screamed authority. Black on black on black on black. Atsushi wasn’t sure why, but he felt a pull. He wasn’t sure where, but there was a force. The man turned to look at Atsushi, and even his eyes were black. Black on black on black on black on black. He offered a smile, but got an averted gaze in return. And everyone went to scour the shelves, along with this grim reaper of a man.
While giving instructions, Atsushi learned two things about these jewelers. One: they were phenomenal listeners. Two: They were all extremely different from one another.
Not only did they not make a peep the entirety of his practiced work presentation, but they all chose varying pieces. As he went around the table collecting their name and piece info, it became even more apparent on the colors they started gathering.
The taller woman sat at the end, Kouyou, who went with a teapot she was eyeing when she first entered. Much the same as her, Chuuya picked the wine glass. Was he lifted? No. But Atsushi did watch as he was at the very tips of his toes reaching upwards with all his might. Next to him was a woman named Higuchi. She appeared to be cool and collected but something about her existence filled the air around her with worry. She chose a small and simple mug. A tall, circular-rimmed vase was at Hirotsu’s spot. Mori chose a large circle dinner plate. Tachihara was thrilled once he saw the giant wolf figure. Gin picked a cute heart box. And lastly was… Ryuunosuke. He picked a teacup and saucer.
Was he shocked to see such a delicate item in front of the dark-clothed man? Atsushi couldn’t say. What he could say was how excited it made him. But even then, he couldn’t say why. What would he paint? Was he good at painting? Would he have to ask Atsushi for help and then he could show off all his skills of painting pottery and explain his origins to this place and then Ryuunosuke would explain what someone like him was doing at a jewelry store? Well, he sure hoped so. Maybe that was the why. One thing at a time would suffice, he thought, so he wrote the information down on his info sheet and began putting everything in the system to be rung up later.
Chatter filled up the air inside the studio as they got on a role with their painting. Atsushi helped Kouyou find a nice dragon stencil to use on her teapot. Mori asked what colors matched the picture of his daughter he provided. He had to let Tachihara know that, no, he wasn’t sure what the colors would look like out of the kiln if he mixed them together. All this, but no question from Ryuunosuke to answer. He looked outside; It was still overcast and the building sure did look gothic to him. The energy still persisted, thankfully.
But why is he thankful for that? Why wasn’t he confused with the glazing process? Why was Atsushi upset that he didn't ask any questions? Where was this pull coming from?
“Holy shit, Ryuunosuke, that looks incredible,” Chuuya said. This caused Atsushi to whip his head around from the glaze shelf he was straightening out.
“It’s so realistic! How did you make it look so soft?” Higuchi added. That force had pushed him right next to Ryuunosuke’s side just to see what was going on.
And wow, was this a piece of art. That was not a question. While the saucer sat on the table, untouched, the teacup, as small as it was, had a beautiful white tiger painted on its side, with the tail wrapping around up to the handle. And yes, Higuchi was right, the fur looked soft. He must be using that technique.
And now he breathed in, so he’s about to speak, right?. Atsushi is about to hear his voice. The anticipation, why is the moment slowing down?
“I dipped two colors onto the same brush.”
Wow. How blunt, how cold? How… elegant. But, even with such elegance, a job is a job, so Atsushi shall engage. “Have you done this before?”
“No.” A quick answer.
“Impressive. Most people don’t think of that technique.”
“It’s a technique?” Higuchi asked.
Indeed it was. It was extremely simple. Dip half the brush in one color, and the other half into another. When you painted on the surface of the bisque with this brush, it mildly blended the colors together to create a slight ambre that’d enhance the painting. It’s logical, efficient, and so, so, uncommon. Anytime he’d present this technique to a customer, they acted as if he bowed down holding the sacred blade in his hands. The amount of, “That’s so smart,” or, “You’re a genius,” comments he’d get for such a thing boggled his mind at times. And here Ryuunosuke was, figuring it all out on his own.
“It’s called efficiency, Higuchi.” A cold, little bit rude, answer. Atsushi saw how she backed down from the comment. He didn’t accept any of the compliments he’d received, and that made Atsushi nervous to try. The sky got even darker.
“An efficient technique!” He attempted to lift the mood, “It’s looking beautiful, Ryuunosuke.”
The man slowly turned his head to look at Atsushi. He could’ve sworn he saw the grim reaper peering its skeletal head through the front window. It was like a challenge, holding this man's gaze. His pitch black irises held a weight. Was this the source of that pull? And how can irises even be so black? Was he wearing contacts? Atsushi doesn’t recall ever being this curious about another individual.
Ryuunosuke broke the spell by looking back down to his teacup. The sky lightened and the grim reaper bid adieu, but there was no response. That elegant voice didn’t mutter a single word to Atsushi. A nervous chuckle escaped his lips as he slowly backed away and headed to the employees only section of the studio. He closed the curtain, letting himself inhale breath as if it were water being chugged in the middle of the night.
As curious as he was, there was only one question that stirred at the forefront of his brain: How the hell does he work at a jewelry store?
Higuchi was the first to finish, who began a conversation with Gin across the table just as she finished as well. Atsushi took their pieces and began writing their names on the bottom with black glaze and that ever so tiny brush. His focus and precision were broken when he felt a presence standing to the side of him.
“O-Oh, can I help you with something?” He stammered.
“You’re writing their names on the bottoms,” Ryuunoske pointed out.
“That I am…” Was it not obvious?
“Do you have to write our names on the bottoms?”
Oh. “Well, this is how we can easily tell these pieces are for your party.” It did not seem like the answer he wanted, so he added, “If you wanted to add something yourself, you can. I can make a note of it for the rest of the employees.”
“Very well.”
It took a second to get back into his focus and precision mindset, but just before he did, he saw Ryuunosuke reach for the dark red glaze on the shelf. Red did suit him, like blood. But no matter, a job is a job.
One by one, the guests finished up, handing Atsushi their finished pieces so he could paint his beautiful handwriting on the bottom. Hirotsu was in awe at how precise he was with the brush, how beautiful his lettering looked, and how talented he was for being able to handle something like that. He nervously accepted the compliments all the while Ryuunosuke held his pieces out to be claimed. It was as if the teacup and saucer turned into two dirty rags, for he was holding them from his index finger and thumb.
“You can set them on the cart here,” Atsushi instructed, and Ryuunosuke silently listened. He got out his clipboard to write a note for his pieces, then actually took a second to look at them.
The teacup was the same as before, a white tiger with the tail wrapping towards the handle. The saucer, though, was black on the top and purple on the bottom. It was very simple and extremely well painted. And at the very bottom on both pieces in that dark red he reached for earlier was, “Ryuu”. Elegant cursive handwriting, way better than Atsushi wrote with glaze. He was stunned. No way he’s never done this before.
“Is now a good time to pay?” Mori asked, interrupting Atsushi’s onslaught of thoughts.
Yes. It was a great time. Perfect timing to get Atsushi out of his head about this criminally… he didn’t have the words. In defeat, he put Ryuunosuke’s pieces down and had Mori follow him to the register.
“Thank you for the exquisite party, Atsushi,” Mori said after tapping his card on the reader without a care. He took the receipt Atsushi handed to him as if he held a cigarette.
“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m glad you had a good time!” He explained that pickup would be in a week and he’d receive a call if there was any delay. And just as Atsushi was about to head over to the table to clean up, Mori presented him with a crisp, $100 bill.
“For you.”
Stammering, Atsushi waved his hands in front of his chest in shock, “I couldn’t possibly take this much, that’s too kind!”
“You will take the tip and we shall leave, understood?” Really, those words shouldn’t be said that sweetly, but they were, and his sinister smile was there to back it all up. Hesitantly, Atsushi took the money.
Mori nodded his head and walked over to his employees. Atsushi saw as Chuuya tipped his hat, he saw how they shuffled out of the studio one by one, he saw how Ryuunosuke was last. Just before he crossed the threshold of inside and outside, he looked back, giving Atsushi one last glance before the door closed.
The gothic buildings fell, the sun once again filed into the room from the windows, and the scent of early summer smacked him right in the face.
The feeling of the fresh linen between his fingers drew him back to himself, and he looked down. He swore it stared right back at him.
“I see they tipped nicely-”
“AH!”
So much for the brand new bill, as it was now crumbled from Atsushi’s startled clutch.
Fukuzawa wasn’t shocked to see him jump. He stood there and waited for him to regain his composure. It wasn’t apparent how long he had been staring at that bill, but even the doorbell from the back door didn’t cause him to move a muscle.
“Sorry, you were saying?”
“They tipped you nicely. Did they cause any trouble?” Fukuzawa looked towards the table and saw how neatly they cleaned up after themselves. Brushes laid in the water buckets, all trash was thrown out. Any paints grabbed from the shelf were returned, and chairs were pushed in.
“Not at all, they were super kind. Great listeners too.”
Fukuzawa nodded, but Atsushi felt… off. Something wasn’t right. The overall vibe. “Is that really a jewelry store they run?”
“It is. Though I understand your confusion. They’re an odd bunch of people.”
“How so?” He did know how. He saw how. But he wanted one of the thousand questions in his brain to be answered.
Fukuzawa’s eyebrows synched together. In his eyes, there was a whirlwind. There must be some sort of history. Atsushi didn’t want to pry too much, but god was he curious.
“Mori is eccentric. He runs his business like you would an underground organization. It’s secretive, his ‘subordinates’, as he calls them, are extremely loyal, and he keeps attempting to spread his ownership as much as he possibly can.”
That would certainly explain their odd demeanor. “So… other jewelry stores wouldn’t have people like that around, would they?”
A small smile appeared on Fukuzawa’s face. “No other jewelry store I've been to has people like that, so I suppose the answer is no.”
Atsushi finally stuffed the bill in his pocket and began cleaning up the space, setting it up for the general public. He took down the private event signs, taking time to survey the street. He rubbed his eyes, blinked his eyes rapidly, turned around and back, and came to the conclusion he was not hallucinating early summer and had hallucinated the fall. And it all started and ended with Ryuunosuke.
If there was any god out there, if the universe was listening to his pleas, he wished to see that man again, even just once, only to witness how another human being could alter his state of mind in such a way.
“And by the way Atsushi,” Fukuzawa had said from down the hall, “Happy two years.”