It was a rainy afternoon in Bulida. Fine threads of rain fell like silver needles, shrouding Karchi Art Museum at 84 Charing Cross Street in mist.
Despite the gloomy sky, traffic still flowed outside, and pedestrians came and went without pause.
This elegant three-story building, constructed in the sixteenth century of the Sun Calendar, had nearly a century of history. Ivory walls were decorated with reliefs, and its brick-red roof appeared and disappeared beneath ivy. Copper wind chimes hung under the eaves, tinkling softly in the breeze.
The gallery doors were tightly shut. Under the dim streetlights, a sign reading "Temporarily Closed" swayed and glinted coldly, silently turning away passersby.
Every so often, one or two pedestrians hurried past with black umbrellas, becoming hazy silhouettes in the rain.
The private gallery founded by Professor Harrison Karchi of the Krui Di Empire's Royal Academy of Art had changed hands several times, yet its business had continued uninterrupted.
Even so, Karchi Art Museum still had an employee minding the shop today, waiting for several scheduled guests.
"..."
The receptionist listlessly flipped through a magazine, occasionally glancing toward the entrance as he waited for the heavy Oak Door to open.
At last, at exactly two in the afternoon, the sound of young women chatting accompanied the creak of the gallery's heavy oak door as it opened. Damp air poured inside.
"It was only cloudy this morning, but by afternoon we had this drizzle. It wouldn't be strange if it turned into a downpour later."
The woman at the front looked around, a trace of weariness in her voice.
"It's been damp and cold lately. I feel like even my heart is rusting."
"Before we knew it, it was November twelfth."
Another woman's voice chimed in.
"The Moon God Festival is the day after