A week was not a very long time to have been working on getting a business started. How he had even managed to get a building, much less decorate and stylise it, was a feat in itself, to then be up to taking in customers was crazy. He must have been a very busy man. It was a miracle that nothing had gone horribly wrong.

The fact that he was taking in clients pro bono as it were, entirely free of charge, it suggested an enormous fortune, or a secondary motive. So far, however, Hunter had been nothing but polite to her, and if he was a millionaire choosing to spend his money improving himself and others, so be it. Perhaps he had recently become the heir of a great fortune, and displeased with how his parent had handled it took the money and used it to the extreme opposite.

“What kind of instrument do you play?”

She knew nothing about reading sheet music, was only just getting back into reading after the replacement of her glasses, and had never played chess. Watched occasionally, and learned some of the movement rules, but not experienced.

“Piano and violin,” Hunter said in answer to Verdigris’s question, “While I’ve not taken any formal exams in either I’ve been playing the piano for over two hundred years and the violin for around a hundred and seventy so I’m pretty well versed in them. A little out of practise due to not playing much over the last decade but it’s just like riding a bike. You never forget.”

He kept his face neutral, as if nothing he’d said had been out of the ordinary in any way. Inwardly he was smiling. One of the advantages of being less paranoid was the look on people’s faces when he revealed how old he was. It was almost always priceless. “I also sing a little too,” he added taking another sip of tea.

She was fairly sure that eyes were supposed to stay on the inside of one’s eye sockets. Even those with naturally wide eyes had nothing on the bulge of her eyes in that moment. Piano as an instrument wasn’t that shocking, nor was violin, he had the fingers for both. But to have been practising each for about two centuries, her mind couldn’t even begin to comprehend that timespace, much less to be a part of it.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out, she closed it and took a sip of her tea before trying again. A tiny squeak was released and she managed to form it into a word before it dissolved into nothingness.

“Cool.”

She had never really learned music, but she had ridden a bike, and knew it was a saying that was coined to say remembering something was easy. Would he have been around when that expression first saw the light of day? She didn’t know how long bicycles had been around, but was fairly sure it was less than two-and-a-bit-hundred years.

The man before her didn’t look that old, his hair was a striking black, and from the quick glance she stole she couldn’t see any grey. Certainly not enough to hint at an age more than twenty.

Hunter couldn’t help but grin. Would this ever get old? He doubted it. “I hindsight I should have taken up instruments a lot soon but it took me two hundred years to find the appeal,” he added. Some might consider this a little cruel as he progressively blew Verdigirs’s mind but it was only a little harmless fun.

Her face was priceless. It had taken two goes for her to say anything and all she’d managed was to squeak out ‘cool’. Honestly he was glad she was blown away by it. Had she been taking this in her stride it would have begged some serious questions.

Two hundred years to find… then practising for two hundred. Two and two was four, and he said ‘over’ to one of the twos, so he was more than four hundred years old. That was… a whole lot older than herself. If she was twenty, and he was four hundred, he was about twenty times older than her. He was around in the 1600s, he might have known Shakespeare in his later years, or Mozart in his prime, seen the colonization of America and the discovery of Hawaii, her birth country, by James Cook.

Her brain, at this moment, decided to oblige what earlier she was trying to persuade it to do, and shut down. It refused to think of ages, numbers or the dates and events that he might have seen. She stopped trying to compute the magnitude of the man before her, and focus on the little things. Her tea was a great comfort to her, she could sip it on auto-pilot and not have to worry about disgracing herself. When she was fairly sure she could speak again in a normal tone she looked up to meet the sparkling eyes of the man before her.

“You must have seen a lot of history.”

Although, probably at the time it was all relatively unremarkable, what happens in a day is simply what happens, it usually doesn’t effect those living in it in the same way historians like to portray.

If he had been around that long no wonder he was able to start up a business from scratch a week after arriving in New York. If he had kept anything from his years he could have sold it, no matter how simple the item seemed to be, for a very large sum if he found the right antique trader.

“That I have,” Hunter replied with a chuckle. He was fairly certain that he’d just overloaded Verdigris’s brain with just trying to comprehend how old he was and everything that he had seen. Taking the final gulp of tea left in his bowl he poured himself another.

“One piece of advice I can give you,” he said as he took another sip, “is to take the time to see the world at some point in your life. And also try and learn at least a little of the language of the country that you’re in. The locals will appreciate it a lot more if you at least make an effort to speak to them in their native tongue rather than use the typical approach of speaking to them in English slower and louder. You might find the more willing to talk to you in English if your grasp of the language isn’t so good.” Hunter himself spoke a plethora of languages and while some were a little rusty now he tried to keep at least reasonably practised. Never know when it will come in handy.

She held her empty bowl, drained in her moment of complete nothingness, to be refilled as he poured his own. She cradled it gently between her hands as he spoke, imparting his wisdom upon her. She listened, hard. Anyone who had been around for… that long, surely knew a thing or two. She nodded slowly. The world was a very large place, huge in fact, and the thought of seeing it was daunting. The thought of seeing the whole city was daunting.

Language was important. It was, unfortunately as he stated, the habit to expect everyone else to change, rather than trying to change yourself, and she was fairly sure that was a statement on the thinking of humanity in general. Selfish, seeking instant gratification, and generally rude human (and mutant) beings.

“That makes sense. I know a little German, but hardly enough to get further than ‘hello, that is my hamburger.’”

That was the full extent of her memory of the language-other-than-English course from highschool. That wasn’t so bad, considering how long it had been since she had learned it.

Hunter filled Verdigris’s bowl when she held it up. “The mere act of trying will often get you brownie points,” he said with a smile, “I’ve found that many around the world speak English , especially nowadays, but they are much more willing to if you first at least try to speak their language. Once you’ve had a go they’ll often switch to English to help you out but will be much more willing now you’ve show respect for their language.”

“So tell me,” he asked with a smile, “If you could be anywhere in the world right now where would you be?” It was an interesting question, and one that could reveal a lot about a person. He started to ponder his answer as he took another sip, for the question would almost certainly be turned on him soon.

Anywhere in the world. The world was a huge place, the biggest place there was, in fact, and if she could choose to be one location, where. She frowned, there were many places she knew would be interesting to visit, places where the climate was more pleasant, or any multitude of other charms which travelling agencies were constantly promoting.

“I think that while there are things I would change, people I would like to see, and things I want to learn, New York City is the best place for me. I have a place to live, access to education, I have made friends here. For now, here is the place for me. Eventually I would like to go back to Hawaii, and seeing places like Egypt or Africa would be interesting, but as a whole, where I am is good.”

Perhaps wherever she was would be good, maybe she would have make friends no matter where the plane had landed. Perhaps, but not definite, and rather than risk it she was content with what she had.

“And you?”

Although, if he had returned to New York merely a week ago, surely this was where he wanted- or needed- to be for the time being. Who knew for how long, who knew for what purpose. Whatever the reason, he was here now and sipping her tea and reflecting on his guidance she was grateful.

Good answer. Very good answer. “Right now this is where I need to be,” he replied, “but there are several places I long to visit again. I’ve not been to Italy since the Second World War, nor France in thirty years. I have a lot of memories in both countries plus would like to see the descendents of old friends.”

Difference between him and Verdigris was that he had all the time in the world to visit all these places. Being immortal there was no rush. He didn’t need to hurry away from here to see the world. It was one of the few things likely to outlast him.

He had a lot of memories there. Somehow she suspected he had a lot of memories in general, not just linked to a certain place. He wanted to see friends, or really, their children, but details, details. In four hundred years, why now did he need to be in New York. She wouldn’t kid herself that she was important enough to warrant a visit, the fates, or gods or whatever other names were labled on it, had never taken much notice of her beforehand, why would they start now?

“Why have you decided to come back to New York now?”

After all, he did say back in New York, and why would he come here if there were other places he would rather be?

Why did he come back? Now that was a question that to be fully answered would require much more tea. It wasn’t a short story and now wasn’t the time for it but he’d give Verdigris the cliff notes. Hunter wasn’t hiding his past from her but wouldn’t go into details for now.

“I left New York two years ago leaving a lot of damage in my wake,” he told her, “I had hurt a lot of people. With seclusion and time I came to realise that I couldn’t simply run from this but that I needed to return and face up to the consequences of my actions. There are many people to whom I owe an apology.” At the very least.

She nodded slowly, he needed to be here, to make good on whatever it was he had done before he left that was bad and making him feel guilty. To say sorry. Two years was a long time to be hurting over something that had happened. But if he had been gone for that time, out of sight and out of mind, perhaps he had been forgotten, forgiven simply by no longer caring.

Would his return simply open old wounds?

She worried her lip between her teeth and frowned. What was more important? His seeking forgiveness for the regret he was feeling, or the reminder of whatever pain had caused to the receiver of that misdemeanour. Seeking forgiveness was all well and good, but to do so at the expense of someone else was pure selfishness.

“I hope that you are forgiven.”

And that there are no repercussions.

Hunter smiled and nodded thanks and took another sip of his tea. Whether or not he deserved forgiveness was up for debate. He could guess the reason for the look of worry that passed over her face. After all this time would it have been better to not return? People would have moved on by now. Would his return simply open old wounds? It was something that he had spent a lot of time thinking about. While there was no question that he needed this it would also help others in the long run. His sudden and unexpected disappearance meant that while some may have been able to simply ignore what had happened they wouldn’t have closure. They all needed closure to truly move on.

Bringing himself out of his own thoughts he changed the subject and asked Verdigris, “So what are your plans for the future? Do you intend to start climbing the secretarial ranks or are you looking for something else long term?”

Long term. After such a long time on the streets living day-to-day, she had almost forgotten such a thing existed. To have plans for it seemed almost, ungrateful?

“I think I’m happy with this job for now, I’ve only really just started. I guess I’ll stay in it for as long as I’m needed there, if I seem to be better suited somewhere else, then I suppose I’ll move to there, but for now the stability is good.”

And if she screwed up her courage and told Slate how she felt and he fired her, then she would have to find something else, somewhere else. That bridge, as they say, would have to be crossed when she came to it. For now everything was good, and the longer that continued the better.

“And you? After you have apologised do you think you will stay here in New York, running this-” A vague wave of the hand to all that surrounded them “or will you move on to see the rest of the world that you want to see?”