Untrustable

Chapter 2

As I closed the front door of the shop, I sighed. Even if they were assholes, they probably went to save the redhead, so they probably won't even bother following me or chasing me- but I made sure just in case. Even if they did though, it'll look like I stopped by for a nice cup of tea.

"Almost get caught again?" Nana asks, followed along with a tsk, tsk, tsk. I looked up to see her shaking her head disapprovingly, raising her head to smile.

"No Nana, you know I've never been caught. I was just messing with some whores."

"Oh?" She asks, sipping jasmine tea with an eyebrow raised.

"Yes. and no," I stopped her before she could ask, "They got on my nerves."

"That's surprising of you. You don't usually make a scene. Hopefully, you didn't kill them. Also? Everyone gets on your nerves." She gave me the bOmBaStIc sIdE eYe.

I laughed. "Don't worry, I didn't kill them- this job was just too annoying, and I got pissed off, that's all." I walked over behind the counter to pour myself some tea. "Besides, it's not my fault everyone in this world is shitty. You're the only one who's not." I put some tea leaves in the glass teakettle.  I poured some hot water from the boiling pot into the teakettle.

"Oh, I'm sure There's at least one person in this world who's not shitty- you just need to find one." She sipped her tea again.

"Well, I'm too busy swatting trash away from my face to find one. So if they're not trash... they should come themselves." The water vapor covered my field of vision as I poured the barley tea into the cup with a swoosh. 

"So, how's the business going?" I asked.

"Everyone loves my tea and spices, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean the other one." I took my cup to the table Nana was at, sitting across from her.

Everything about this shop hasn't changed for as long as I remember- the endless rows of spices and tea stacked on top of each other, the smell blending and colors contrasting. The counter had a register, with an old-fashioned kitchen behind it. In front of the counter was a cluster of 6 wooden tables, with 4 chopped trunks of wood for chairs at each table. And creaking outside was a sign in cursive that said: Central Lavender Cafe.

"Oh?" Nana raised her eyebrows again. "Well, that- I can show you." 

She gracefully got up from the chair and started walking toward the back of the cafe, where there was a door.

"No Nana you can just tell me..." I groaned. "I just sat down."

"What are you, a foive-year old? Come on!" Nana didn't bother to stop walking.

She was about 80 years old, but age is just a number- she may look old if she was sitting, sipping tea like any other sweet elder, with her white hair... but her eyes sparkled and her soul was burning bright as if she was in her 20s all over again.

I slowly walked over to the back of the shop and followed her inside. The narrow hallway has 2 doors to the left side- the storage room for tea, and another room for spices. The right side had a set of stairs- leading to Nana's and my bedroom.

Many people stay at this small yet popular cafe to drink their favorite tea and to have town gossip with other townfolks on the cafe days. But that only happens 4 days a week.

What they don't realize is that, on the other 2 days, the other side of the door is a completely different place- for customers on the other side of this shop. 

The apothecary.

Where the good and the evil cross.

"We simply sell what they need," Nana once told me.

Nana led me to the storage room of the apothecary. Except it wasn't a storage room- it was where she made the orders.

In the middle of the room was a wooden desk with countless labeled jars, with 1 large jar in the middle, with some liquid.

"A customer asked for a liquid solution that they can inject into a person and kill within seconds," Nana said.

"So what's the problem? You have countless solutions that fit what they're asking for," I asked, confused.

"The catch," she said (definitely) pausing for effect, "is the injection part. He wants it to be 'as little mess as possible.'" She mimicked.

"So- painless?"

"Yes. Or- it just has to silence their voice, and stop their movement."

"This is a guy customer and he wants poison? Poisons are usually used by females, not males."

"Although there are exceptions." Nana chimed in.

"Right," I said. "But if he uses poison to kill people, why did he even come to ask us? Surely he could have made it myself." I asked.

"Sweetheart, why are you assuming that he's a serial killer?" Nana asked curiously.

I mumbled. "Because I recently read a serial killing Chan fanfic... I mean" I said when I saw her confused face, "because I just came back from dealing with a serial killer this time? Remember?" I laughed bitterly as the author face palmed.

"Ohhh... right. I gave you that task, didn't I?" Nana lightheartedly joined my laughter. "Anyways, no, this person wasn't a serial killer."

I arched an eyebrow *(insert the Rock)* "So what was he?"

"He was a member of Obsidian the North."

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