Pet Shop Of Horrors Fan Fiction ❯ some kind of bliss ❯ Double Double ( Chapter 4 )

See Chapter One for warnings, disclaimers and all that other palaver. Thanks again to Mouse, and everybody who's given encouraging reviews and feedback.

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D's family had had little use for books. He appreciated literature, himself - the intricacies of language, the fancies of the imagination, the piquant irony of noble sentiments espoused by authors who had been far, far too human to live by them - but his father had been contemptuous, and Sofu had warned him sternly against giving too much time to the trifles of human culture. And of course, there was little to be learned that they did not already know.

This in mind, D had always thought that the few shelves of dusty volumes his grandfather kept in the shop were more for ambience than anything else. Mystery was important, of course, and the weight of the books, the dull jewel colours of their spines -- and perhaps the glimpse of a title in some unfamiliar language -- surely did a little to help keep the customer in awe as he passed. They dealt with legends, mostly, and the beasts of mythology -- stories that had been familiar to D since childhood -- and it had been decades, perhaps centuries, since he had last thought to look at them. Now, however, he supposed it was possible they might have something to tell him about this puzzling new creature. Unlikely, but possible. And it surely could not hurt to try. It would, at least, give him something with which to occupy himself until dawn, since -- he was certain -- there would be no further sleep for him tonight.

He shuddered delicately as he recalled that unpleasant dream, and the irrational -- foolish, he thought, firmly -- panic that he had allowed to overtake him afterwards. He had half felt he was still dreaming when he had seen those eyes shining at him, their hard, gem-like familiarity, and he had frozen, heart caught dizzily mid-skip, in the doorway. Then he had found himself stumbling backwards -- one unsure step, then another -- until he ran into the corridor wall, and slumped against it gratefully. The brickwork had been cool. He had closed his eyes, waited for his breathing to slow, his heart to resume its usual, regular cadence. And then --

And then, nothing happened. He opened his eyes, the world swam gradually into focus, the whispering shadows and swirling noises of that nightmare woodland receding as it did so. And he was quite unharmed, quite alone in this part of the shop save for a chirping Q-chan and an ordinary, if rather bemused-looking, snake.

D had scolded himself crossly over that. He had allowed himself to become confused, his judgement clouded -- even if only for a moment. Perhaps he was spending too much time around Detective Orcot.

Still, he had checked the door of the new arrival's room twice to be sure it was secure before adjourning to the tea-room. The air there had been cool, a welcome caress, and he had breathed of it thankfully. He had allowed himself a few moments to calm down -- and then his thoughts had turned to the rarely-touched bookshelf at the back of the shop.

It would be interesting to look through them, he decided, even if they gave him no insight into what this animal was. They would give him something to think about until morning, and might help keep his mind off all of those… other things.

And of course, he thought, with a hint more satisfaction, there was one other he could turn to, one companion that had never let him down, had never failed to be there for him in a time of crisis: sweet, sweet tea.

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The clock chimed six; the door slid closed behind the final customer of the day. It had been a fairly typical case -- a quiet, nervous young man, a girlfriend killed in a traffic accident. He had seemed harmless enough. D did hope he would keep to the contract.

He allowed himself to be distracted a moment, to remember the look of wonder that had flitted across the customer's face as he had looked into his new pet's eyes and seen whatever it was that humans saw in the eyes of their companions. Always the eyes -- that was where recognition lay. Odd, how much one saw, sometimes.

D blinked to clear his head, and decided it was high time for another pot of tea. No doubt Detective Orcot would be along shortly. He should try to be a little less distant today, he thought. After all, he did not wish to upset his human… friend. Yes, he could call Leon a friend, he supposed -- at least, as much as he could any human being.

You are too fond of that human.

He suppressed a shiver at the memory of Sofu's dreamed words, and forced himself to think about it no further. It had been a dream, no more, and dreams were for his customers. To allow himself to become caught up in them -- that would be foolish. He had far more real concerns, besides.

As he had expected, there had been nothing of use to him on his grandfather's bookshelves. However, looking through them had been a fairly interesting diversion, and had passed the grey hours until dawn pleasantly enough. He had not looked in on the new creature since. There had been one story that had particularly fascinated him, though -- a sad little tale, in one of the smaller volumes, with an illustration in delicate greens and golds. It told of a young man -- place, century and all those other details went unspecified, but then that was always the case with fairy tales -- who chanced upon a group of woodland spirits (one of the many names by which D's kind had been called over the centuries) while out hunting one day. One of the group saw him, came over and spoke, and even allowed him to sit by her side for a while, watching the foxes curl up at her feet and casting sidelong glances at her face and her odd, purple eyes. He became infatuated, of course. It was not long before he went mad. He announced to his family that he had found a wife, and was going to live with her in the woods, and promptly disappeared. Villagers saw him, occasionally, after that, wandering the edges of the forest, ragged and always accompanied not by a woman, but a fox with eyes of the most unnatural violet. One villager approached him, and he introduced the creature as his bride. It was not long before he died, and his body was found beside that of his pet. No doubt afterwards the story had become a cautionary tale, told to youths to warn them from venturing too far into the green-shadowed dark.

It had a brought a sad little smile to D's face -- and then a slight, puzzled frown. He had never heard of an animal taking the form of one of his kind. But then he supposed it was not impossible -- creatures like those he sold only reflected what their humans wished to see, after all. And the kami would often resort to trickery when an ardent human admirer ceased being amusing and became a nuisance. He had… associated with humans himself, when he was very young, and had never hesitated at cruelty when their attentions became annoying.

Of course, the idea of a fox with bright purple eyes -- well, he had made the connection with the… creature currently curled in the back of his shop at once, and dismissed it as quickly. This was a story -- merely the poetic exaggeration to which human beings, so blind to the world around them, were always so inclined. And besides, he dealt with the inhabitants of Los Angeles, a modern city. Their desires always lay in other humans, were nearly always so simple, so obvious, as to be mundane. There was no-one here that could be looking for --

The door swung open, admitting a glare of sunlight and interrupting D's train of thought. Glad of the distraction, he glanced up.

"Ah. Good evening, Detective."