OCtober Day 13: Cross Sunday

Exploring the mystical hidden islands, though fascinating, was a rather tiring venture. On my quest to provide tribute for the gods, I’d been hopping between temples, leaving gifts in my wake. From  my reconnaissance, the next on the list was the deity known as Charm. The list was long in what was deemed acceptable, though I’d be made to understand the gifts were somewhat reflective of themselves and another. Their partner, perhaps, I gathered from context. At the temple, I knelt down and produced a beautiful antique I’d been holding back for just the right moment. It was an old, handcrafted fan made by a Japanese courtesan I once shared a meal with. It was sewn together with thread and peacock feathers.

Once the delicate piece had been laid down, I found myself growing quite peckish. To my great luck, there appeared to be a tea emporium connected to the deity in question’s temple. I made sure I looked presentable, then casually wandered over to have a look. 

The emporium’s architecture reflected that of an old Japanese tea house. Rustic shades of brown tinted the wood structure, as natural as the green of the trees swaying over the roof, or the pale pink of the sakura blossoms dotted around the entrance. The building’s sign read ‘Heaven’s Light’, painted by a talented calligrapher. Gently, I slid open the door. 

“We usually encourage our customers to remove their footwear before entering” A stern voice instructed from somewhere. 

At once I became quite aware of the sound of my footsteps in the tranquility. Feeling a little embarrassed that I forgot my manners, I slid off my shoes, placing them on the provided rack by the door. Gingerly taking a few more steps inside, I took a better look around. The interior reflected the exterior in its traditional, clean wooden feel. Though the modern addition of lighting and other electronics humbled it a bit. Approaching the counter, I noticed there were currently only two other people here. Well, it was hard to see one behind the other. A slender, androgynous figure sat in front of the counter, draped in an old fashioned white kimono, accented by pink flowers. Cream and pink hair spilled over the back. By the plume of large fox tails emerging from the clothes, I deduced this was the deity known as Charm. Shifting on closer, I managed to gather look at their companion. He was a tall, pale man, also wearing old fashioned attire, all as pale as he was. Though, his style reflected something of an old british noble. His shoulder length white hair offset the dark eyes. As expected, he too had his own fantastical features; a large pair of angelic wings. He places a hand over the deity’s hand, lightly touching it.

“Charm, darling, I love you but I do finally have a customer to attend to”

The kitsune pouts.

“Oh, just one more more cup” they speak softly, green eyes gleaming.

The towering angel rolls his eyes, but smiles and leans close.

“Customers first, my lucky charm. Maybe we can go for a walk once I close up” he suggests, planting a chaste kiss on their lips. The deity blushes a little, but looks pleased. Carefully sliding an empty teacup, and a saucer dotted with crumbs across to the angel, Charm rises from their seat. They bow to their partner, then also to me. Not wanting to be rude, I bowed too, doing my best not to stare as the kitsune elegantly strides out the door. The angel coughs, and I swiftly stand back up.

“Good afternoon, my name is Cross, or Mr Sunday. How may I help you today?” He enquires politely, a posh twinge to his voice. 

I take a seat at the counter. Looking over the vast selection of tea leaves upon the shelves behind him, trying to find something I’ve yet to try. Meanwhile, Cross proceeds to wash up his partner’s used set, which sparks an idea.

“May I have whatever they were having?”

Cross looks somewhat intrigued.

“Interesting choice. Loose leaf black tea with raspberry, and a slice of marble cake. Is that alright with you?” 

I nod enthusiastically. Admittedly that does sound quite delicious. He swiftly goes to work, pulling a dark pink jar from the top shelf to extract the leaves. Setting on water to boil, he produces a japanese style tea set, matching the rest of the decor. It’s a shade of matcha green, painted with trailing white flowers.

“To match the Mx’s hair” he explains. I’m quite flattered by the thoughtfulness. Silence overcomes us for a few moments. It’s not awkward, but instead paves way for quiet contemplation. Distant echoes of birds, the soft clacks of cups, and knives carving through cake. I notice my own breath, though not the tea master’s. Cross himself makes little sound when not conversing, aside from perhaps the gentle flap of wings trying to stay out of the way. Whilst idly looking around, I notice a bible carefully placed amidst the tea shelves. Quite curious, though I suppose not strange for an angel.

“So, I suppose you're the first angel I’ve seen around here. How rare is that?” I ask, hoping to make polite conversation. Polite in my own, overly inquisitive fashion anyhow.

Though he doesn’t stop, I see Cross shudder a little as he begins to pour the hot water. His wings twitch. Once done, carefully placing the water aside, he coughs.

“It’s hot, I advise exercising patience and letting it brew. Please, enjoy your cake in the meantime” He says, shifting back to professionalism.

I took a guilty bite, worried I said something wrong.

“...Fallen angel is the correct term, technically. And no, there aren’t many of us” Cross explains. A wistful expression overcomes those eyes. Once again the silence returns. Just as I lap up the last crumb, the angelic man takes it upon himself to pour out the tea. With caution I take the cup, taking in the sweet raspberry aroma. 

“Smells incredible. Say, why don’t you join me for a drink? There’s plenty in there” I suggest, wanting to break the tension. The wistfulness is washed away by honoured surprise.

“Oh I couldn't possibly, it would not be right of me. Besides, I prefer a cup of earl grey myself”

“That’s fair” I chuckle. Taking a sip, my tongue bursts with a powerful flavour.

Tea of the gods, eh?

I could get used to this.