There weren’t many people on the road past the cathedral at this hour. There were three reasons for that. First, because hardly anyone had business at the cathedral anyway. Second, because most of the shops in that area closed relatively early.
Not even many tourists made it down this way. Which was compounded by reason number three—practically no tourists ever came to Cururunelvia, the land of prayer, the small island country on the frontier.
Pretty much the only people who would be walking around this area after dark were those who lived in the cheap apartments near the cathedral.
Which included me.
“I hope tomorrow is as good as today,” I murmured. The cheap apartments weren’t so bad. I got beautiful scenery like this all to myself, after all.
Those thoughts filled my head as I trotted along…until I came to an abrupt stop. I had spun around almost before I knew what I was doing.
I felt the same weird gaze I’d sensed that afternoon. Like somebody watching me, but I couldn’t tell where from. Who could it be, though? Unlike this afternoon, I was alone now, so I stood and stared, studying my surroundings. There was definitely someone watching me. I was sure of it.
I stood there, stone silent, squinting as hard as I could. Ten seconds passed, then twenty, then thirty.
Then I saw it.
A small shop facing the avenue. An antiques shop that looked pretty antique itself.
A sign hanging above one of the windows read RIVIERE ANTIQUES. I could see a face peeking between the curtains.
The face belonged to a woman who appeared to be a few years older than me. She had hair as red as flames and a dress to match (not very subtle). She was captivatingly beautiful, and her ultramarine eyes were focused right on me. I could see her lips moving; she seemed to be muttering something.
I watched her for a moment. Couldn’t hear a word she was saying, but she was definitely saying something; I saw her eyes open wider.
“What a scary lady…”
It was all so sudden, my brain couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Had I done something to her? If the perfume was still working, then she couldn’t possibly mean me any harm—but then she slammed her hand against the glass, bam, and pressed it there, talking louder and faster. I still didn’t know what she was saying, but she was starting to scare me. This was definitely someone I wanted to keep away from.
Now she was shouting, and I could see from her face that she was furious. I tried to think back, but I couldn’t come up with anything I’d done that might have hacked her off like this. I didn’t even know her! I’d never even been to any antiques shop!
She was still talking, and I held her gaze while I racked my brain. At last, the woman took a step back from the window.
Uh… Maybe she gave up?
Nope. She walked out of the shop. As one does.
Except she was holding a cleaver.
“Hey, you!” she said.
“Eeeeeeeek!” I said. Then I spun and raced to my house. I can’t remember the last time I ran so hard. I didn’t stop until I was safely under the covers at home, where I cowered, shaking. I was completely convinced that woman was the source of the mysterious gaze I’d been feeling all day.
Okay, let’s review.
It started with the perfume Curly Hair gave me at work.
She’d said something about it leading to destined encounters; that was what it was supposed to do.
“So why did I catch the eye of this super-scary and obviously dangerous person?!”
I got to work extra early the next day and breathlessly related to Curly Hair and Short Hair what had happened. I mean, that’s what new hires are supposed to do, isn’t it? Communicate, consider, and consult, right?
Ripply Wave was off today, by the way. Probably practicing her trumpet with a passion right about now.
“Huh. But she didn’t come any closer to you, right? That shows the perfume’s still working,” Curly Hair said, not sounding very interested.
“What?! But you said I wouldn’t even see anyone who means me harm!” This was not what I had been promised! I was feeling thoroughly petulant. I think I needed a few minutes to cool down.
“Maybe the perfume’s effect is wearing off?” Short Hair said gravely, patting me on the shoulder. “Or maybe the perfume was the only thing that saved you from something worse! Starting tomorrow, maybe you should take an extra-big puff of it.”
I caught my breath. Now that she mentioned it, after I’d put on a bit of the perfume at lunchtime on my day off, I’d gone a whole day without refreshing it. Maybe the smell had faded away…
“If someone who has their eye on you looks like trouble, that’s all the more reason you should keep that perfume close. In fact, I think you should make sure you refresh it regularly. That’ll keep them away from you,” said Curly Hair.
“Y-yeah, you’re right.” I nodded, highly suggestible.
I did my work as normal and, indeed, had another lovely day. I just wasn’t used to wearing perfume—that’s why I hadn’t noticed the smell fading. I should pay more attention to my own odor.
“Mm, there! That’ll do it!” I told myself as I headed home, having taken a fresh spritz of the perfume. I was feeling invincible. My plan was foolproof.
And yet, in spite of my flawless countermeasures, I could still feel those eyes on me as I walked past Riviere Antiques. Okay, it’s okay; she won’t come near me, I told myself—but I picked up my pace just the same.
Then I paused.
“I can’t help wondering…”
The perfume was supposed to keep the likes of her out of view, but when you feel yourself being watched, it’s hard not to want to look back. I glanced over my shoulder.
The door of the shop was open.
“Good evening,” called the red-haired woman, who was half peeking out the open door. For some reason, seeing her there absolutely terrified me. Maybe it was the horrific spiked morning star she was holding.
“’Kay thanks bye!” I said, and once again I set about escaping with all my might.
Maybe the perfume’s effect wasn’t quite strong enough?
The next day, I tried puffing some of the perfume on myself as I reached the antiques shop—but as I went scuttling past, I heard her voice again, this time from in front of me. I looked up, and there she was, the mysterious red-haired lady.
Terror gripped me again. This time she was holding a sun umbrella. Even though it was nighttime.
“What could you possibly be protecting your skin from at this hour?!” I exclaimed.
I’d put on the perfume immediately before walking past the shop, but it still wasn’t working! Maybe there was some invisible barrier that kept the scent of the perfume from reaching her?
“K-konbanwa?” she ventured the next night.
I wasn’t sure what to make of that particular greeting, but I decided two could play the game of coming on strong. The moment I saw her, I sprayed the perfume on myself. From this distance, she would never be able to avoid the smell.
Hah! How do you like that fragrance? I grinned at her in triumph, but she only said, “Mmm, roses. What a lovely smell.” Then she giggled and gave me the slightest smile—quite beautiful, in fact. It would have been perfect if she hadn’t been holding a massive frying pan.
I ran home again. Yes, she was beautiful when she smiled, but there’d been something in her eyes, something that scared the crap out of me. The most unsettling part was that I had no idea what she could possibly want with me.
Well, wait. Hold on.
What if…?
“The perfume isn’t affecting her at all !” I sighed with utmost drama as I related the situation at work the next morning. (No point in coming up with some excuse for a new hire to do what I did—I just had to get it out.)
How much perfume did I have to put on before the creepy lady wouldn’t come after me anymore? Maybe if I took a bath in the stuff?
“Hrrm…” I was chagrined to discover that over the past several days, I’d used more of the perfume than I’d realized—it was only this morning that I’d noticed with a rush of anxiety how little was left in the bottle. It wasn’t even mine—I was borrowing it!
I did my best to pin the entire thing on the red-haired woman, while tossing in a moderate apology for having used more than I’d meant to. I really had practically used it all up.
“Hee-hee-hee. Don’t worry your little head—you can have it,” Curly Hair told me with a smile. Incidentally, thanks to the perfume, Curly Hair was making good progress with her boyfriend—she let it slip casually over lunch that if things kept going this way, they “might get married this very year!”