many times before, until his master was ready to meet with
him and felt that he knew the room by heart. The large
fireplace set opposite the door was marble and
magnificent, but no fire burned on its hearth. The rows
and rows of shelves, housing books from every time and
place around the globe, stood along the walls. Even the
sofas, chairs, and chaise lounges had been there as long as
he could remember. It was a room that never changed.
However, something was different tonight. At first,
he could not quite put his finger on it. As he began to look
over the works of art, he noticed what was out-of-place:
the painting of the Japanese girl in the beautiful, pale-gold
kimono was no longer hanging above the fireplace.
Instead, there was a new painting in its place. There were a
few similarities to the previous one, but the differences
were much more evident.
The old painting showed a young Japanese girl of
about sixteen standing on a bridge - over some river or
other - in Japan, a wagasa – a Japanese umbrella - opened
above her to hold back the sun. Her hair had been pulled
up in the latest fashion of the times and her kimono spoke
of a girl from a well-to-do family. She seemed to be
entranced by the sakura blossoms blooming in front of
her, her violet eyes absorbed in the beauty before them. A
faint smile played around her mouth, her laughter seemed
to be held just below the surface, waiting for the slightest
reason to come bursting forth. It was a beautifully painted
picture of the girl who had captured the heart of a
monster.
This new picture however, showed what appeared
to be the same Japanese girl, but in more modern attire: a
salmon colored shirt, charcoal pants, and a long black
duster; her long hair pulled back in a ponytail, a long onyx
107