Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Year: ???

Season: ???

Day: ???

The ever-present hum of a thousand copy machines accompanied the daily activities of Joja Corp. Some of it may have actually been fax machines, but he didn’t really care. The hurried clicking of fingers across keyboards were only offset by the occasional yawn of a coworker. On a lucky day, someone might have dropped a pile of folders that needed to be approved, signed, and filed away until it was shredded in five years. Those days brought a welcome change to the muted symphony of the corporate world.

When a short man in a red bow tie walked past his cubicle, he realized that today was a very lucky day. A voice, crisp and professional, like fresh paper for the fax machine, told Suzie that upper management wished to see her in their office. If you were called to one of those luxurious corner rooms that granted a window, you were either being promoted or fired.

No one ever got promoted.

He stopped typing and leaned back in his chair. He found it easier to eavesdrop when you were looking at the ceiling.

There was a slight tremor in Suzie’s voice as she gave her reply. She was asking if she could finish her work first. A commendable, but futile effort to delay her fate.

The man in the red bow tie had only a curt response. Her work wouldn’t be necessary.

In the opposite cubical across the hallway, his workplace neighbor had daringly stuck her head out to watch the events unfold. She was an oldie in the company, somewhere in her late fifties boasting fifteen years of service. Living proof that you can’t climb the corporate ladder from these 'Entry Level' positions that require five years of experience and a Masters Degree.

Suzie insisted her work was very important. The voice she employed was one with a familiar tremor. Often heard when an actor on TV begs for their life. Suzie wanted to prove that she put her work first, to prove she wasn’t actually at the bottom of the workplace performance reviews that upper management reviewed daily. Maybe if she could change the opinion of this harbinger, she could change her fate.

But the man cut her off. He repeated himself, adding a please this time. His words, sharper than an executioners axe.

There was a stillness to the air. The man was a conductor, deliberately holing his musicians at attention, allowing the reverberation of the final note to resound across the concert hall.

Suzie’s chair rolled back as she stood, and soon her defeated footsteps where added to the Joja symphony. He sat up, pretending to not watch as she passed his cubicle, shoulders sagging and eyes devoid of life. The man in the bow tie lead her to the end of the hall, opened the door to upper management and closed it behind them.

Suzie was mourned by the uncaring keystrokes of her coworkers.

The old woman snorted, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. The thought on her mind was likely that she’d never have the misfortune of being spoken to. She was at the top rung. A shining example of the perfect employee in this wasteland called Joja. 

He watched the old woman resume work. Sometimes, he had day dreams about her getting fired. The man with his red bow tie and crisp voice declaring her summons to upper management. He sometimes thought of the horror that would paint her expression. Would she beg? Would she fight against her fate?

He looked back down at his work, but did not make an effort to resume it. He hadn’t known Suzie. Nonetheless, his work resolve always faltered whenever someone got fired. No matter how much it may spice up the mundane day-to-day, it was gentle reminder that the bottom rung of the ladder was slowly getting closer to him. What was considered acceptable performance today became unacceptable tomorrow, and outstanding performances today set the standard for tomorrow’s expectations.

What happens when that rung finally reaches his empty, uninspiring cubicle? ‘No decorations or nick-knacks,’ they had told him at orientation. ‘Distractions from work are distractions from a better life.’

One of his day dreams was of being fired himself. What would he do then? Rent alone decimated his twice a month paycheck, leaving him with barely enough to buy food. His savings account was an old cheese ball container atop his fridge. It was filled with a pitiful amount of change; there was barely enough money to buy a single value meal from WacDonalds. Joja Corp is where you went when you had no dreams, no ambition, no drive. If you couldn’t hold a job here, you wouldn’t be hired anywhere else. He’d be evicted—maybe in two months if he at least kept up the appearance that he still had a job. But that required a degree of work itself.  His income would be cut off, and if the landlady heard him in his apartment she’d question why he was at home in the middle of the day.

He could always move in with his parents; guaranteed food, no rent. But the idea soured as he thought about having to deal with the passive-aggressive comments from his mother about mooching off of them and getting his life together.  He could live with that for a while, but that meant giving up his independence to a degree. He'd no longer have privacy with his father and mother just a few sets down a hallway. Not that he did anything meaningful, but he enjoyed his privacy. 

With a sigh, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead on his desk. Most days it felt as if the city was slowly eating away at his soul.

“There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life…”

He sat up and looked around, eyebrows peaked in concerned curiosity. Did someone say something? Or was he finally losing it and hearing voices?

“…and your bright spirit will fade before a growing emptiness. When that day comes, you will be ready for this gift.”

There was a slight, but bright red flash that moved at the edge of his vision, darting out of his cubicle. He spun in his chair and leapt to his feet. The old woman side-eyed him and he smiled back awkwardly. Her face said she was thinking of how to report him. Whatever it was, it was in the hallway now and he couldn't pursue. The man with the red bow tie wasn't the only one out there, prowling the halls and looking for those that wasted the company's precious time. 

His neighbor gave a quiet and not-so-polite cough. It was how she told others they were disrupting her very important work. He flashed her a frown and sat back in his chair. 

Just as he was about to chalk the whole thing up to lack of sleep, there was another flash of red, this time from his desk. He spun around, finding the top drawer was slightly ajar. He didn't do that. He reached out, fascinated that something at Joja was out of line. Opening the drawer fully, he found a letter—something that he recognized and thought had been left at his apartment.

Touching the letter triggered his memory. Those words he heard in his head, they were his grandfather’s final words. He was so young when it happened, barely tall enough to see over the curve of his grandfather’s belly as he lay on his deathbed. Now looking at the purple seal of the envelope, he clearly remembered every detail of those final moments.

There was a fireplace radiating its final warmth and stars that twinkled through the closed window. A wrinkled and spotted hand that gingerly presented the sealed letter, the soft sparkle behind kind brown eyes, and a voice full of love that murmured to him, “…and for my very special grandson.”

He’d accepted the letter with wide eyes, holding it reverently in open palms. He was unaware at the time of how little life his grandfather had left in him. He knew from the stern look of sadness on his mothers face during the drive down that this was an important visit. He stayed silent through his grandfather’s last words.

Now, in the office, he knew it was time to open the letter. He tore off the yellowed edge and pulled two papers out of the envelope. The first was older than the envelope, the thick and wrinkled paper that felt like worn leather read ‘Property Deed’ at the top in elegant, hand-drafted script. The second was a letter, signed by his grandfather.

“If you are reading this, you must be in dire need of a change.  

The same thing happened to me, long ago. I’d lost sight of what mattered most in life…real connections with other people and nature. So I dropped everything and moved to the place I truly belong. I’ve enclosed the deed to that place…my pride and joy. It’s located in Stardew Valley, on the southern coast. It’s the perfect place to start your new life.

 This was my most precious gift of all, and now it’s yours. I know you’ll honor the family name, my boy. Good luck.

  Love, Grandpa.

  P.S. If Lewis is still alive say hi to the old guy for me, will ya?”

After he finished the letter, he read it again. Then the deed, not really reading the fine print. This had to be a dream. Every second that passed he waited for it to disappear from his hands. Maybe it’d turn into a cat, or he’d look down and find he’d actually forgotten to wear pants.

His stained khakis remained, and so did the letter.

Again, a not-so-polite cough demanded his attention. The man with the red bow tie now stood at his cubicle. One hand was adjusting the glasses to sit higher on his nose and the other was behind his back. “Break time does not start for another seventy-eight minutes. I strongly suggest you return to your work.”

The man in the red bow tie waited, wanting to ensure his 'suggestion' was carried out.

He looked down at the letter in his hands, then back to the man in the red bow tie. “No.”

For the second time today, the old woman in the opposite cubicle stopped her work.

The man in the red bow tie furrowed his brow. The bewildered look he now wore was clearly a new expression. He had not been expecting resistance. The man with the red bow tie repeated the words, speaking them as if a foreign language. “Did you say, ‘No’?”

It was like a wave of energy flowed into him from the papers he held. Old memories mixed with new dreams, rushing through his head. The smell of tilled earth filled his nostrils and he could see the spouting crops in his mind. He remembered the thrill of being placed on the back of a young calf. He remembered warm, summer nights of capturing fireflies in jars and eating peanut butter and banana sandwiches under the moonlight. The sweet taste of strawberries stolen from the garden made his mouth water.

He dreamed of a quiet night under the stars with fingers laced though his own.

He looked up from the papers to the man with the red bow tie, his resolve growing. “That’s right. I quit.”

Both men stood there with nothing more to say. The expression on the man with the red bow tie changed slowly from bewilderment to terror.

Taking advantage of red bow tie's shock, he stuffed the papers safely in his pocket and then turned and gathered what few possessions he could lay claim to from the desk. He quickly pushed past the man with the red bow tie and down the hall. Heads turned when he passed the cubicles. A silence accompanied him, different from Suzie's funeral procession. This was the awe-struck silence that followed the performance of Mozart.

The man with the red bow tie called after him. He yelled about papers that needed to be signed and filed. Resignations forms that must be stamped. A two week notice that must be fulfilled or else he'd never get a job in this town again. But then the man in the red bow tie yelped and could be heard tumbling to the floor.

He did not stop nor did he look back at red bow tie, but he notice another flash of bright red color dart past him. He ignored it, figuring he should just get his eyes checked before the move. He continued on, pushing through the doors at the end of the hall feeling exhilarated, knowing that this would be the last time he’d do so.

The letter and deed were a lifeline, tantalizingly dangled before his face. One that he gladly snatched at without worry of any hidden hook. Every step he took down the stairs to the first floor filled him with strength, happiness even. He dropped his ID badge at the front desk, much to the confusion of the intern that worked it, and walked outside. The sun was still high overhead and the cool, spring breeze ruffled his hair. His performance at Joja Corp was now forever behind him.

Year: 01

Season: Spring

Date: 00

 The transition from the chaotic cityscape to neatly organized suburbs to untouched wilderness did miracles for his mood. His shoulder still hurt from packing and his eyelids drooped. Despite the physical fatigue, he also felt refreshed. He was just the right amount of tired.

Most of the people around him asked if he should make such a big decision on a whim. A few said he was delusional, chasing a pipe dream. He ignored them. Maybe he was delusional, but this delusion made him happy. In fact, it made him run down the street and laugh like a maniac happy.

He sorted at his own reflection in the bus window. Okay, maybe he was crazy.

His grandfather wouldn’t be there. Nor would the fields of strawberries or any of the animals that lived on happily in his memories.  Everything would be different and the nearest familiar face was a five-hour bus ride away. It would be different, but new. 

The bus pulled to a stop and the driver announced their arrival in Pelican Town.

He stood, shouldering his backpack, and in a few seconds, was taking his first step off the bus.

There was a middle-aged woman waiting for him. Her bright orange hair bounced when she waved him over. Her dark-green eyes matched her cargo pants, and flecks of saw-dust was sprinkled over her tan-colored jacket. The bus rumbled away and then it was just the two of them.

She held out her hand. “Hi! I’m Robin, the local carpenter.” Her voice was filled with pep, reminding him of his high school day.  "Mayor Lewis sent me to fetch you. He’s at your new home now just tidying some things up.”

He took the hand and smiled back. “Nice to meet you.”

Robin held his smile for a moment. He noticed she gave him a once-over look, and something entered her expression. It was almost a sad expression. But it was gone when she broke their handshake. “Come on. The farm isn’t far from here.”

When she had said it wasn’t far, what she meant was that the sun would be setting by the time they got there. The path she took him on felt like more of a hike along an overgrown trail. He'd forgotten that the whole thing was basically an uphill hike and it left him slightly winded.

God I’m out of shape, he thought.

“Here we are!” Robin turned and smiled at him, still perky. If she noticed he was out of breath, she didn’t mention it.

His Grandfather’s cottage was there, looking nothing like he last remembered it. The wood had noticeably aged and the paint was faded and peeling. The grass around it almost reached the windows and the bottom step on the porch had a massive hole in it. When he looked at what had become of the farm, a heavy sigh escaped him.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong?”

“Just...reality setting in." He admitted.  "I hadn’t expected anything from Grandpa’s farm to still be standing but expecting it and seeing it are two different things.” He paused, looking over everything again. “This is all mine now, isn’t it?” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as the idea set in.

Robin gave him a fierce slap on the back, causing him to jump and stumble forward. A massive grin was spread across her face. “Don’t worry. I’m sure with a little hard work and some of my elbow grease, you’ll have this place looking like it did back in its heyday! If you find you ever want to make that old cottage a bit more modern, give me a call. I work quickly and efficiently, all at a reasonable price.”

“Are you soliciting our new farmer already, Robin?” An old man with a graying mustache spoke from the cottage’s now open front door. Dressed in an emerald button-up and yellow tie, he couldn't look more country even if you put a banjo in his hands. He closed the cottage door and made their way over to them. He adjusted the brown cap on his head with a sly grin towards Robin. “I’d expect this behavior from Pierre, but not from you.”

Robin crossed her arms and gave a small. “You can’t fault me, can you? Business is slow, Mayor Lewis.”

Lewis walked down the steps, avoiding the hole at the bottom. “That’s no excuse to hassle him, I’m sure he’s tired from his bus ride.” The mayor brought both hands to hold the straps of his overalls and looked back at the cottage. “I never actually dreamed that someone would one day move into this old place. Truth be told, I stopped taking care of it a few years back. But then, wouldn't you know it, I get a call from my late friends grandson! The whole town’s in an uproar. We don’t get very many new folks here, and everyone wants to meet you. Little Jas just keeps pestering me with questions day in and out.”

“Who’s Jas?”

“One of the girls that lives in town. You’ll meet her eventually.” Lewis waved off the question. “Anyways, Robin and I did our best to make this place more livable, and I’ve gotten everything ready for you. All the boxes you sent ahead are inside.”

“Thanks for everything Lewis,” he said. “You’ve been a really big help since I called you out of the blue like that.”

“Just give me first pick of the hot peppers and we’re even!” The Mayor laughed. “But I bet you’ve had a long day. Why don’t you head inside and call it a night? I’ll stop by tomorrow and introduce you to everyone.” Lewis extended a hand, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Farmer.”

The Farmer took Lewis’ hand with a smile. “Likewise.”

Chapter Text

Year:1

Season: Spring

Date: 01

The shrill shrieks of his phone's alarm grated against The Farmer’s ears. Still lying face-down in bed, he fruitlessly waved a hand at the floor where his phone lay in an attempt to snooze it. He knew that farm life would require waking up at dawn. He recalled his grandfather even waking up before dawn most days, so he tried to prepared himself by turning in early last night. That resulted in him lying awake for several hours staring at the ceiling as the reality of his actions settled in. Maybe he was just doomed to a late-to-bed and late-to-rise lifestyle. His old job at Joja had gotten his body used to work starting at nine, and The Farmer naively thought he was ready to make the transition to an early-morning person lifestyle.

After a minute of listening to the alarm, he resigned himself to getting up. He swung his left out of bed, picked up the phone off the floor and silenced it. He stared blearily at the time - 6:01AM - with heavy limbs and heavier eyelids. It was still dark in the cottage, not even the first rays of sunshine had started to peek through the windows, and it was very tempting to just go back to sleep. He looked around the room, empty save for the outlines of the few boxes he hadn’t bothered unpacking that waited for him. It felt a little sad, knowing that his entire life from the city had been able to fit into less than ten boxes of cardboard. 

'No,' he told himself. 'I won't think like that anymore. This is a new start.' 

The Farmer got himself out of bed, and walked into the main room of the cottage. It wasn't much, but it was still bigger than his old apartment. There was another door, just to his left that lead to the bathroom. Robin had mentioned last night that the house was hooked up to a natural underground well, so he didn't have to worry about water. The main room was half-kitchen, half-living room. In one corner sat a fridge that looked like it'd been fished out of the local dump and a less-than-new oven with stovetop, separated by a small amount of counterspace and cabinets. On the other side of the room was his grandfathers old tube TV, which miraculous still worked, sitting on the floor. It wasn't much, but The Farmer still smiled at it all. It was his, after all. 

He made his way over to the fridge, and opened it to reveal a single, half-finished water bottle leftover from his bus ride into town. He took it from the fridge and finished it off, reminding himself that he'd need to figure out where people bought their groceries in this town. When The Farmer was about to return to his room to change, he noticed there was another box that sat next to the TV. It wasn’t marked, but there was an envelope taped to it. Curious, he walked over and tore the letter open.

“Here’s a little something from me to get you started! I also put a few of your grandfather’s old things here for you. They were just taking up space at my place so at least they can get some use now!”
-Lewis

Opening the box, he found several bags of parsnip seeds. The packaging boldly proclaimed: ‘Easy to grow! Perfect for beginners!’ It drew a single laugh from The Farmer, reminding him of infomercials on TV. Below them were a few somewhat-rusted farming tools. He picked up the axe and immediately though of all the trees, bushes, and grass he needed to clear from the fields.

I guess everyone has to start somewhere, he thought to himself. 

After pulling the rest of the tools out, there was something else that caught his eye. It was a very small, hand-carved wooden box. The edges were uneven and there were a few obvious nicks where the blade had carved too deep and then pulled away to start over. A small silver latch held it firmly shut. It was familiar to him—but he couldn’t quite place the familiarity.

He flipped the latch up and opened the box. It was filled with a multitude of different, colored bandanas. Most were solid colored, but a few had patterns outlined in white on them. When he pulled out a solid red one, a memory surface. It was like he could see himself and his grandfather in the cottage, one summer long ago.

“Think you can remember how to tie it?”

He had nodded vigorously, even though he had already forgotten one of the steps.

His grandfather laughed. “Now if you get too hot again, just dip it in the river and wring it out before you tie it again. It’s how I stay cool out in the fields.” There was a twinkle in his eye then. “Ready to help me harvest some corn for dinner tonight?”

Just then, his phone dinged from where he'd left it in the bedroom, drawing The Farmer out of his memory. He brought the small box with him as he returned to the phone, and tried not to frown as he read the message. 

MOM: Did you make it to town alright? I haven't heard anything from you since you left.

Before he could type out a response, there was a knock at the door and a voice called through. “Hey Farmer! You awake in there yet?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a moment,” The Farmer called back, recognizing the voice as Lewis. He closed his messaging app and threw his phone onto the bed before changing quickly into a pair of jeans an a plain t-shirt. He paused before leaving the bedroom, going back to pick a red bandana out of his grandfather's old wooden box and tying it around his neck. He still couldn't remember the best way to tie the knot in back, but made it work regardless. He smiled briefly to himself at the thought of his grandfather seeing him still struggle with it again after all these years.

When he'd finished changing he opened the front door and found Lewis on the front porch and looking out over the overgrown fields with his hands on the straps of his overalls. “You know,” Lewis said when The Farmer joined him, “I’m glad this farm is going to get some love and care, but there’s a certain charm that abandoned places have, you know? I know that Penny likes to walk through the tall grasses sometimes.”

The Farmer raised an eyebrow at Lewis. “You trying to get rid of me already?”

Lewis chuckled. “No, no. I’m just talking to myself.” He turned to face The Farmer. “All right, let's start that tour I promised you.”

The Farmer followed Lewis back past the bus stop and eventually into a large plaza which Lewis introduced as the town square. A light breeze blew through, carrying cotton puffs and flower petals on it. Lewis was pointing out houses towards the beach and listing names that The Farmer was sure he’d forget before the sun went down. During his visits in his childhood, he couldn’t recall leaving the farm much, so nothing here looked familiar to him so far. The town was small, to say the least. They had only just got her and The Farmer could already see what he assumed was the other edge of town where the forest dominated the landscape once again. There were a few people awake and milling around town, but none quite awake enough to acknowledge Lewis or The Farmer.

“And this place here is Pierre’s General Store.” Lewis stopped outside the largest building and gestured to it. It was mostly tan with a dark orange roof, but a small portion of the western part of the building was painted white. A blue cross hung above the door. It looked like it had been patched together hastily, like someone trying to fix torn pants with mismatched fabric. “That’s Harvey’s Clinic,” Lewis said, having noticed The Farmer’s gaze. “Harvey’s the town’s doctor, but he’s not open this early, so I’ll introduce you later.

“Now here,” Lewis slapped a hand against the side of Pierre’s with a glint his is eye, “Is my community calendar. I keep it updated with birthdays and holidays every month, as well as any requests the townsfolk have given me. If you need a little extra cash, you should make sure to check it out.”

“So not even a full twenty-four hours and I’m already being made the town gofer?”

Lewis laughed again. “Don’t be so cynical boy. I’m not forcing you help anyone. Now come on, I’ll introduce you to Pierre.” Lewis pushed open the front door and walked into the general store.

The Farmer lingered outside a moment longer, left with his thoughts. He quickly scanned over some of the requests on the board. It would be a while before anything actually grew, and he would have to make some sort of income if he wanted to eat. Best not to burn through what little money he'd managed to save during his time as a corporate slave. With a little bit of distaste, he noticed that many of the posts were people looking for specific foods—reasoning stretching from trying a new recipe to simply having a craving. Lewis had mentioned the other townsfolk had been excited to learn a farmer was going to move in. Was this their way of subtlety trying to influence what he grew? Looking beyond those, there were a few he could do easily. Someone was looking manual labor, gathering ore, stone, or wood for projects, and…

“Slaying monsters?” The Farmer said aloud slowly. Was this a joke? He knew that there were monsters that lived in the country, but from the look of this town it didn't seem like they had a monster problem.

Before he could process the thought further, he heard the rapid succession of paws on stone. And then a shout.

“Look out!”

The Farmer turned to the cry, only to have his vision immediately filled with dark brown fur. A large dog used his face as a springboard, leaping higher into the air to catch a thrown frisbee. With a majestic snap of its jaw, the dog snatched the disc out of the air and then landed gracefully with a triumphant look and vigorously wagging tail.

Having just been sacked by an fifty-pound dog in the face, The Farmer was less graceful on his way to the ground. The back of his skull collided painfully with the cobblestone, a resounding ‘Thwack!’ in his ears, and everything went black.

He knew only two things in the following moments. One, there was an extreme pain that throbbed at the source of impact, and two, that the world wouldn't sit still. He felt like he'd been dropped into a stormy ocean with weights around his ankles. Nothing more than a rag-doll at the mercy of the undertow.

Multiple voices spoke at once.

“Is he alright?”

“You need to keep a better leash on that dog!”

“What happened out here?”

“Someone go call Harvey!”

The Farmer tried to block out all the chatter, it only made the throbbing worse. He held his head with one hand, not sure how else to get the pain to stop. Then someone touched him, a steady hand on his back to help him to a sitting position. A gentle voice spoke in his ear, “Hey, are you okay?”

The Farmer lashed out and grabbed at the voice, taking a fistful of fabric in his hand. It helped steady him, being anchored to something that wasn't thrashing about. "I'm sorry," The Farmer said quietly, "I just-"

"Hey, it's okay," The voice said. "It looked like that fall hurt. Just try not to move until Harvey gets here." It belonged to a man. It wasn't deep or raspy like Lewis', it was younger. About his age, if The Farmer had to guess. 

Slowly, the spinning lessened and The Farmer forced himself to pull away. It felt kind of embarrassing that this was the first impression he was making on the residents of Pelican Town. Hurt and clinging like a crying child to the closest person. He blinked several times as his vision started to return. He looked up to the man that was helping him, but the outline didn't look like a man. The face that was coming into focus looked like a child, and a familiar one.

Pain shot through The Farmer's head again, and he forced his eyes closed. When he opened them again, his vision came back quicker. The first thing to come into focus was a man’s face, not a child's. He had deep, verdant green eyes and his brow was knit together, contorting the obviously handsome face in worry. His light, sand-brown hair had flower petals in it, left behind by the spring breeze. The fabric of his green varsity jacket felt soft between The Farmer’s fingers.

'I’m dead,' was The Farmer’s initial thought. 'I’m dead and this beautiful, chiseled angel has come to take me to the afterlife.' 

The world beyond came into focus then, the faces of people he didn’t recognize had gathered around. A mustached man with square glasses pushed through the crowd and knelt down on the other side of him, placing a small box on the ground and then attempting to shine a miniature flashlight in his eyes. He spoke to The Farmer, but The Farmer wasn’t able to quite make out what the man was saying. But that was because he saw red.

Specifically, a red bowtie.

Attached to the bow tie was the ugliest comb-over The Farmer had ever seen. A comb-over he'd seen before. A pair of black, beady eyes peered down at him with disgust over wire frame glasses. The Farmer was in pain right now so his judgement may have been clouded, but more importantly, he was free of Joja Corp—meaning he could say whatever he wanted without fear.

“What in Yoba’s fucking name are you doing here?”

Several of the gathered people looked put off by the language, even the mustached man was surprised enough to pause his examination. Lewis was among the gathered crowd, and after The Farmer's outburst, gave a glance between The Farmer and the man in the red bow tie before clearing his throat. “Do you know The Farmer, Morris?”

Morris adjusted his glasses and then his bowtie before giving the most genuine fake smile he could muster. “You could say we were formerly acquainted in the city.”

The Farmer snorted. “Acquainted? You embody every reason why I left the city in the first place.”

Morris’ smile showed no sign of faltering. “My dear sir, I’m afraid I don’t have the foggiest idea of what you’re referring to.”

The Farmer opened his mouth, but the mustached man stepped in. “Alright, stop it. This man just suffered what might be a mild concussion and I need to get him inside so I can treat that cut. I need everyone to disperse, please.” Only once it had been mentioned did The Farmer feel a wetness on his forehead. When he reached up to touch it, his fingers came away red with blood. The crowd began to disperse, and the mustached man, who was apparently the town doctor, turned to The Farmer. “Alex, can you help him into the clinic?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” The man that The Farmer had mistaken for an angel, apparently named Alex, stood up and offered his hand. “Are you okay to stand?”

The Farmer found he couldn’t remember how to speak - probably because of the head injury - so instead he gave a quick nod. He took Alex’s hand, which he guiltily noted felt warm and comforting, and pulled himself up. The moment he fully stood, nausea and vertigo overtook him and he stumbled into a surprised Alex’s arms. Alex, taken off-guard, barely managed to keep the both of them upright, “Woah, careful there bro.”

“Sorry.” The Farmer mumbled, definitely not noticing that Alex smelled like bacon and pancakes. He let Alex help steady his footing, his strong hands holding his shoulders firmly in place.

“I should be the one apologizing. Dusty is the one that hurt you in the first place.” The dog, apparently named Dusty, materialized at their side and gave a soft bark on hearing his name. Alex shot the dog a dirty look. “Don’t look so happy. This was entirely your fault.”

Dusty tilted his head and continued wagging his tail, unaware that he was being scolded. 

With some help from Alex and Lewis, The Farmer managed to make it into the clinic and onto an examination bed. Alex continued to issue apologies every time The Farmer made the slighted sign of discomfort, and was eventually shooed out of the clinic by Harvey. The Farmer tried his best to not look too disappointed. 

Once alone with his patient, the mustached man, Harvey went to work. He pulled out a first aid kit from one of the cabinets, pulled on some gloves and soaked a cotton ball in antiseptic. The Farmer paid little mind to him, instead staring at the door where Alex had disappeared. His head felt was still spinning, less now, but it was hard to think properly. What he was thinking about, was how ridiculous Alex looked with those flower petals in his hair, like those cliched sappy romances he absolutely didn't read when on the clock back at Joja. 

“Your face is red.” Harvey remarked. The Farmer’s attention snapped back to the doctor who was applying a bandage to his forehead. “You’re not allergic to dogs are you?”

“No.” The Farmer thought quickly of an excuse. “I guess I’m still just dizzy.”

Harvey frowned at him. "You shouldn't lie to your doctor. Otherwise I can't help you feel better." 

"Ah," The Farmer looked away. "Sorry. My mind is kinda elsewhere right now." 

'Idiot,' The Farmer chastised himself. 'What kind of person gets red-faced when they’re dizzy? I've been in this town for less than half a day and I'm already thirsting after the first man to show me any sort of kindness.'  

Harvey retained his skeptical look, but let the issue drop. "Well just let me know if anything else hurts."

Harvey continued his poking, prodding, bandaging, and unending questions on how The Farmer felt until there was a knock on the door. It opened without waiting for a response, and Lewis poked his head into the examination room. “How’s he looking doc?”

“It’s nothing too serious,” Harvey pulled his gloves off with two swift snapping motions. He turned to The Farmer. “But to be safe no physical labor or work of any kind for the next twenty-four hours, do you understand? You don't appear to have had a major concussion, but I want you to rest your brain, just to be safe. So nothing that can give you any kind of mental stress.”

The Farmer tried to hide his disappointment behind a smile and slid off the examination table. “Well I guess that means I have an excuse to not finish unpacking.”

Lewis grinned, sticking his hands into his pockets. “Well it doesn’t seem like any harm has been done to your sass, so I’d reckon he’s okay. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure Alex gets the bill for this one. By the way, Farmer. There’s someone out here that’s been waiting for you.”

The Farmer arched his eyebrow. He didn't really know anyone well enough to warrant a visit. He'd barely been in town for twenty four hours. There wouldn’t be anyone who'd waste their time waiting for him. As he and Lewis walked towards the waiting room, the thought of getting to see Alex again quickened his heartbeat. Maybe that green-eyed angel wanted to see him again.

When the disgusting man in the red bowtie rose from his seat, The Farmer’s small smile became a scowl. If Morris noticed, he didn’t give any indication. He wore his perfectly fake customer service smile and held a clipboard in his hands as he approached. “Ah, my dear Farmer. I hope you are feeling well.”

“Well I was. But suddenly it feels as if the temperature just dropped twenty degrees.”

“Well you know what they say about spring weather. We’re still so close to winter that Jack Frost may still make unexpected visits.”

“Nobody says that.”

“They don’t? Well then, I must be mistaken. Moving on.” Ignoring the terrible transition he just made, Morris held out the clipboard to The Farmer. “Given our sudden reunion, I was reminded that you don’t actually hold a Joja Mart membership. I found it odd considering the time you spent working for our company. So, I’ve gone ahead and gotten everything taken care of, so you can start enjoying membership benefits! You’ll just need to sign on the dotted line. I've even waived the first months membership fee for you.”

“No thanks.” The Farmer didn’t even glance down at the clipboard.

Morris furrowed his brow and tilted his head. It sent a small burst of enjoyment through The Farmer to see that Morris still wasn’t used to being told no. “I must beg you to reconsider,” Morris said. “We offer low prices on many items from seeds to tools. All essentials that a budding farmer such as yourself could surely use the savings on.”

“Lewis,” The Farmer turned to the older man, who was somewhat hiding in the door to the waiting room looking slightly uncomfortable. “Pierre sells seeds and tools, right?”

Lewis gave an awkward cough to clear his throat and nodded. “Ah, yes I believe he does.”

“Well,” The Farmer turned back to Morris. “I guess I know which supplier I’m buying from. Why don’t you scurry back to whatever hole you exist in and leave me alone.”

Morris hesitated before retracting the clipboard. Behind the smile, his eyes were anything but friendly. “I do hope to see you sooner or later, my dear Farmer. You’ll see that we’re the only way to shop smart.” He then turned and left, pushing the clinic doors open with slightly more force than necessary.

Lewis cleared his throat again, writhing with some confusion under the Farmer's scornful glare.

“You guys have a JojaMart in town?” The Farmer asked him.

“Yeah, it’s rather new.” Lewis rubbed the back of his neck. “They finished construction and opened the store a few weeks ago. I was initially against the idea—but we had an empty lot and their offer was too good to refuse. Plus, the town is making a pretty good profit of off their taxes, I couldn’t refuse.”

“Is Pelican Town in that bad of shape?”

Lewis grimaced. From that look, this was clearly a sore subject. “We’re a small town in need of a lot of repairs. The bridge to the quarry is out, there's a boulder blocking passage to the mines, and the minecarts themselves haven’t worked for years. That's just off the top of my head. As I’m sure you’ll notice once you get a proper tour, but the town is in need of many repairs; the community center needs the most dire repairs. But nobody even uses the building anymore, so Joja offered to buy it and turn it into a warehouse. Offered a very pretty penny for it too.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Lewis shrugged. “I’m sentimental. Don’t wanna see her torn down. Ah,” Lewis’ eyebrows shot up and he gave The Farmer a sheepish look. “Speaking of, I hope you’ll forgive me."

The Farmer looked Lewis up and down, a sense of foreboding overcoming him like a wave. “Why would you need forgiveness?”

“Ever since Morris became the JojaMart manager, he’s been pestering me day and night to sell the community center. I reckon he thinks if he can get me to sell the building, Joja will give him a promotion. So, I may have somewhat implied and or told him that if he can get the new farmer that was moving to town to sign up for a membership, I’d sell the community center.”

“So to get him to stop pestering you, you got him to start pestering me?”

“And that’s why I need to ask your forgiveness." Lewis turned his pleading eyes on The Farmer. "You gotta understand, Farmer. He would wait in my bushes with a whole darn presentation. I couldn’t leave my own home without being jumped and brought into a surprise sales pitch.”

He thought about it. Having Morris pester him day in and night could get annoying very quickly. But on the other hand, The Farmer now had full power and control over the man. Meaning his former boss would have to come to him crawling on his hands and knees. “We’ll see about that forgiveness, Lewis. But I hope the community center isn’t too much of an eyesore. I had planned to never set foot in a Joja building even before I came here.”

Lewis looked somewhat relieved. He beamed at The Farmer. “Well who knows, maybe one of these days we’ll be able to fix her up. Now come on, let me see you home. We’ll continue our tour tomorrow. Hopefully with less dog-related injuries.”

The sun was going down and The Farmer was counting the number of exposed nails he could see from his bed for the fifth time that evening. At least the nails had the decency to change in number each time to keep things interesting. Admittedly, that may have been due to the concussion. Before he left the clinic, Harvey had reiterated that The Farmer was forbidden any sort of physical labor. The tube tv only received two channels from the antenna on the roof, three if he got lucky. But he could only flip between gameshow reruns and an automated voice reading him the weather so many times before growing bored of it. Even his phone was no help to alleviate his boredom. There was little to no signal out here, so loading anything that required data or internet took longer than five minutes. Maybe he should look into getting a landline or some sort of internet line run out here.

But that would be a headache for another day. So for now, he laid in bed with the unpacked boxes mocking him from the other side of the room. He'd napped earlier, walked around the farm twice, and was now officially going stir-crazy. Day one of his new country life and he was living the dream. Lesson learned on day one: he had enough patience to watch the orange light that streamed in from the cottage’s single window slowly creep across the wall until it disappeared.

From his side, phone buzzed. The Farmer looked at it incredulously as it buzzed a second time. By all means, it was a miracle that he had signal right now. He picked it up, reading that he had two unread messages.

DAD: Please respond to your mother, she's getting worried, sport.

MOM: Have you made it? Are you okay? Do we need to drive out?

The Farmer sighed and typed out a quick response to both of them. He could deal with that headache in the morning. For now, he was going to resume his very thrilling activity of sitting in the dark. 

Once the final glimmer of sunlight had faded from the room, The Farmer’s thoughts began to wander; as thoughts often did when it got too late into the night. His thoughts started off about the farm, how he should best start clearing the fields, what he would plant. When he started formulating actual plans, a slight pain started in the back of his head. He somewhat remembered that Harvey had mentioned too much brain activity was bad for a concussion.

'You’re my family.'

The Farmer sat up in bed, looking around the darkened room.

'I’ll take care of you. Always.'

It was just like his last day at Joja when he heard his grandfather’s voice. Only, last time he'd lost his mind it had been in the middle of the day when there were other people around. Not when he was alone and in a dark room, out in the middle of nowhere when his closest neighbor was at least a twenty-minute walk. There was a tapping on the window’s glass. Small and soft, barely audible. The floorboards creaked despite not having any extra weight pressed against them.

Against his better judgement, The Farmer stood up and walked over to the window; he didn't open it, but he felt confident enough to peer outside. The sun had just gone down, and the entire field was covered in darkness. Some of the tall grass moved, and he had to remind him that it was because of the wind. Nothing else. Despite that, some corner of his mind asked the question, ‘What if it’s not the wind?’

“I’m going to go crazy,” he muttered. "I need to stop imaging things before I become the next star of some slasher film." He pulled himself away from the window before his paranoia could grow any further. Do so however, validated his paranoia. Jumping up and down on his bed, was a small red block. It had arms, and impressions in its body that resembled a face. There was a slight luminescence to its body, casting the blood-colored light all over the cottage. It stopped jumping when The Farmer saw it, and instead started waving its arms excitedly.

“I’m officially losing it.” The Farmer muttered, covering his face with his hands. “First I heard the voices of dead people, and now I’m hallucinating.”

“@#$*&@#%$!” Whatever it was, screamed. Its voice was high-pitched and deafeningly loud. The Farmer stumbled backwards in surprise, tripped over a box, and crashed into the floor. The world spun for the second time that day, though not nearly as severe as the first. Maybe he was building up a tolerance to head trauma.

The glowing red block leapt from the bed and scurried up The Farmer’s leg. It perched itself on his knee to curiously look down at him. The Farmer stared for several moments before trying to reach out and grab it. The creature evaded his grasp easily, and ran out of the bedroom. The door magically opened itself as it approached. With its tiny arms, the red block made windmill motions with one and pointed outside with the other.

It would be kinda cute if not for the creepy glowing, he thought.

“Do you want me to follow you?”

The creature shook its body up and down like it was nodding before rushing out the door. The farmer pulled himself up slowly, glancing back out the window. The creature was in front of his cottage, arms waving wildly. “I really am losing it,” he said to himself before following the creature outside.

For something with such tiny legs, it certainly ran fast. It darted between trees and bushes, diving behind large boulders or even into small depressions in the ground. If not for the faint glow, The Farmer would have easily lost its trail. He followed it back into town and then north past Pierre’s General Store. The creature charged through what looked like a playground, before disappearing into a large building. The Farmer faltered outside it for a moment, coming to a halt before the gate. The grass around the building was overgrown, reaching halfway up the broken windows. The shutters hung desperately by rusting screws and there was even a large hole in the roof where the he thought he saw the upper branches of a tree poking out of. If there was such a thing as a haunted building, this was it. The paint on the building had been torn away and was flaking in countless locations, but the sign at the front of the building was still barely legible.

“The Community Center?”

The Farmer looked back up at the building, realizing that Lewis was not exaggerating when he said it was on its last legs. It looked like a strong wind might knock it over. A mostly decayed rope hung in a gap between the fence that surrounded the building where a gate must have once stood. The Farmer was having second thoughts about entering. Maybe there was a reason that the building had fallen into decay.

Through one of the windows however, he saw a soft, red glow move through the building before dimming out again. He stood there for a while longer, fighting with his own curiosity, until it eventually got the better of him. With a final glance at his surrounding, The Farmer leapt over the rope and walked into the building.

The front door opened as he approached just like many haunted houses did. With hinges squealing for oil, they revealed a wide and empty room. The inside was just as rundown as the outside of the building. Plants crept up through the rotting floorboards, there was a heavy smell of mildew hanging in the air, and only small fragments of wallpaper still clung to the wooden walls. There was no sign of the small creature that had summoned The Farmer here. All his instincts were telling him to turn around and go home, you’re done being crazy for today. It’s time for a good night's rest.

Instead, The Farmer stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and pulled out his phone. He turned the flashlight function on and swept it about the room. So far, nothing was jumping out at him. And he wasn’t hearing voices talk in his head. That had to be a good sign.

Sitting in the corner of the room was what looked like a small animal hut, built out of sticks, mud, and tree branches. The Farmer walked over and examined it, peering his head inside cautiously, but finding nothing. He stood up and cast his light around the room again. There were several hallways leading further into the building, but he didn’t have the courage to actually explore any further.

So, he did something stupid instead.

“Hello!” He called out, “Is anyone there? I followed this little red thing here and I’m not sure what to do.”

There was no response, but that only unnerved The Farmer. It had been a windy night, but now that he was inside the community center he heard nothing. The building was full of holes, and there wasn’t even the creepy whooshing of the wind to comfort him. "Okay, that's it. I am officially crazy." 

When he turned around, a man was standing in one of the hallways. The Farmer froze, his eyes going wide. The man wore a black cloak and his face was obscured by the pointed hat he wore. His voice was deep and scratched on The Farmer’s ears. “Did you say the Junimos called you here?”

The Farmer didn’t respond. He turned away from the man and began running at the front door. But when he was two steps away, the man appeared in front of him, forcing The Farmer to a skidding halt. The man reached out and grabbed both of The Farmer’s shoulders. “You said the Junimos called you here? How did you do it?”

The phone cast some light onto the man’s face, effectively wiping away any fear The Farmer had previously. The man’s face was chubby, round, and soft. His light purple hair curled up down and around, giving him an appearance similar to that of a child who refused to brush their hair.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” The Farmer asked.

“I’m The Wizard. You’re The Farmer, are you not? It seems as if our creators had no intention of naming the either of us." He released The Farmer and took a step back to look The Farmer up and down.  "Curious.”

“Excuse me, what?”

The Wizard ignored him, walking instead over to the small hut. “I’ve been studying the Junimos for years, trying to establish some sort of relationship with them. Despite my best efforts they’ve all but ignored me. And then you waltz into town and they approach you without fear.” The Wizard scoffed, then added in a quieter voice. “Guess the main character has finally shown up.”

“@#%*(#%!!!”

A cry from the rafters drew both men’s attentions upwards. A small blocky creature, this one was orange, sailed down from the ceiling, landing squarely on The Wizard’s face. While The Wizard was distracted and in pain, the red creature from before charged into the room, left a piece of paper at The Farmer’s feet, and then disappeared with its green companion.

“Wait come back!” The Wizard cried. He looked about ready to give the chase, but when he noticed the paper that The Farmer had picked up his interest shifted.

It was a golden colored stationery, with the image of a leafless tree emblazoned on the bottom of it. The Farmer didn’t know what to expect, but it was covered in symbols unfamiliar to him. To his slight discomfort, The Wizard leaned over his shoulder to read the paper.

“So,” he said to The Wizard, “got any idea on what this says?”

“You cannot read it? It’s the language of the Junimos.”

“The what?”

“Junimos, those small creatures that you followed here.”

“So what are they?”

The Wizard shrugged. “I haven’t had the chance to ask them yet, as they keep running from me. From what little research I can do, I would say they’re minor nature spirits.” He then pulled out a small flask from his robe and uncorked it. “Here, drink this and then you’ll understand their language.”

The Farmer gave him a skeptical look. There was a foul smell reminding him of rotting food and manure emanating from the bottle. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been taught not to accept drinks from strangers.”

The Wizard groaned. “Just. Drink. It. Or else we can’t finish this chapter.”

“What?”

The Wizard said nothing and shoved the drink right under The Farmer’s nose. Hesitantly, he took the flask and grimaced at it. Behind The Wizard, The Farmer noticed one of the hallways began to fill with a soft glow. The small blocky creatures, the Junimos, were peering out at him. Almost as if they were anticipating him drinking from the bottle, and he hated that he knew they were.

The Farmer grimaced, and resigned himself to his fate. Taking a final moment to resolve himself, The Farmer drank. It was tasteless, much to his surprise, but the odor changed as he drank. It was still pungent, but became somewhat sickly sweet. Like the fallen leaves in a forest becoming mulch in the undergrowth. Against his tongue the drink felt like liquid moss, fuzzy and light. When the entire flask was drained, he looked back at the paper in his other hand.

“I still can’t read this.”

“Patience, patience.” The Wizard said. “It takes time for the potion to take effect. I imagine that you’ll be able to understand the Junimos by tomorrow morning.”

“Then why did you insist that I drink it now?!”

“Here,” The Wizard ignored him again and took the paper and empty flask from The Farmer. “I’ll translate for you.”

The Wizard only read for a few moments before the red Junimo rushed up and tore the paper from his hands. It waved one angry hand at The Wizard before gesturing at The Farmer with the paper.

“I know it’s meant for him,” The Wizard said, “but he can’t read it yet.”

The Junimo blew a raspberry at The Wizard—impressive considering The Farmer couldn’t identify an actual mouth on it—before it ran deeper into the building. The Wizard crossed his arms and pouted, glaring at where the Junimo disappeared.

“So,” The Farmer prompted. “What did it say?”

“They’re asking you for help. Some devil with a red neck wants to destroy their home. Something about this place being closest to nature, I think a prophecy was mentioned once. I don’t know. Come back tomorrow and they’ll tell you what to do.” The Wizard threw up his hands and then moved to leave, his feet marching heavily all the way. Before he threw open the front doors, The Farmer heard him mutter, “Why couldn't I be the protagonist?”

When the Wizard was gone, more Junimos popped out of the woodwork. Quite literally too. There were at least a hundred of them, all different colors, living in every nook and cranny of the building. The red Junimo waddled over to The Farmer, still waving the paper at him. The Farmer knelt down, placing his hands on the ground before the Junimo. It hopped into his hands and presented The Farmer once again with the parchment.

“Sorry, I still don’t understand what it says.”

A chorus of disappointed voices rose up from the spirits. He could tell that much, even if he couldn't understand then yet.

“But I think I understand what you want. The Wizard said that some devil, I assume Morris, wants to destroy your home, the community center, right?”

The red Junimo nodded vigorously.

“Well you guys are in luck then. I happen to hate Morris." The Farmer smiled, "So just tell me what you need to do, and we’ll make his life miserable together.”

The Junimos cheered, many rushed up to hug The Farmer's legs while others started dancing with each other. The red one in his hands started dancing as well, but overestimated the size of The Farmer's hands and tumbled to the floor. Seeing these little creatures excited and happy brought a laugh to The Farmer’s lips.

'I’m gonna be really disappointed if I wake up and this was all a dream.'

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Spring

Date: 23rd

The sun was beginning its descent when The Farmer sat down on the cottage’s porch. He pulled off his bandana and wiped the sweat from his forehead. His body ached from the day's work, but it was an ache he found he quickly had grown used it. After the first week he was convinced he'd made a terrible mistake. Now however, looking out over the farm and his progress, the ache filled him with something he could only guess was a sense of accomplishment. 

'This is my farm.' The thought brought a smile to his face.

He’d managed to clear a respectable plot of the overgrown land and had begun growing his own crops. Sure, some of them grew between the large boulders and oversized tree stumps he hadn’t quite figured out how to remove, but they grew nonetheless. It wasn’t much, as he was still barely scraping together enough money to buy the seeds, but he was still proud of the few rows of crops that he'd maintained: parsnips, green beans, cauliflower, and potatoes. These were all, of course, requested by the Junimos.

The day after The Wizard had given him the foul drink, The Farmer returned to the community center and was greeted by the nature spirits, able to fully understand them. They had posted more of the gold parchment around the community center for him to find. Unlike the letter from before though, these papers looked more like checklists. While the creatures were vague on why they wanted each of the items, it at least gave him a sense of direction on how he should start the farm life. Sure, he'd done minimal research on raising plants back at the public library in the city, but when he finished his second visit to the community center, The Farmer realized he hadn't started on an actual concrete plan. 

When he wasn’t clearing the fields, his first couple of days involved him on his hands and knees, foraging through the surrounding forests and mountain for whatever wild crops he could eat or sell. He had initially sold the lumber and stone he got from the fields, but on Robin's suggestion - who visited with Lewis the next few days - he started keeping a wood and rock pile behind the cottage. By her logic, he could keep some firewood close by for winter. She also, not so subtlety, suggested it wouldn't be a bad idea to have building supplies around. She may have been just promoting her own business, but it wasn’t a bad idea. When he had enough money for some larger investments like chickens or cattle, having the building materials ready would soften the blow to his budget.

He did, however, quickly discover that while wild crops gave him some fast cash, it wasn’t anything close to a stable income. That’s when he ran into Willy. Willy was the town’s local fisherman, an older man who always smelled like seaweed and wore clothes that was usually stained with salt and fish guts. It wasn’t The Farmer's proudest moment when Willy found him. It had been the end of his first week, and The Farmer had unfortunately been too liberal with his meals at the Saloon. His wallet was more than desperate for the money to buy a meal, that he was scouring the beach for seashells to sell. Willy didn’t say anything, simply asked if The Farmer liked fishing and gave him a spare pole. Sitting lazily on the edge of the river catching fish was much less shame-inducing than the possibility of being found caked in mud and scouting the woods for mushrooms. Plus, fish brought in slightly more money than the berries and roots he'd collected.

After fishing, he felt more comfortable dropping a little money at The Stardrop Saloon. Gus – a hearty man with a handlebar mustache and a heart of gold - owned the saloon. He was not only the most talented chef The Farmer had ever known, but also a saint. Gus had started subtlety stuffing extra portions onto The Farmer's plate following a conversation in which The Farmer inquired about prices more than usual.  He was grateful to have the leftovers for lunch the next. 

Aside from fishing, the odd jobs posted on the bulletin board did wonders for bolstering his income. It turns out that he hadn’t misread that monster slaying post on his first day. There was an abandoned mine up in the mountains filled with monsters that would sometimes wander out at night. Living in the city for so long, The Farmer had honestly forgotten that monsters existed, but after realizing his encounter with the Junimos wasn’t a dream, he hadn’t been too surprised. Lewis often paid him for culling the monsters’ numbers, but sometimes The Wizard would begrudgingly put up fliers asking for parts of the monsters’ bodies for whatever he was cooking up in his tower.

The Wizard was probably the oddest neighbor The Farmer had ever had. That included his previous neighbor from his old apartment building spent her free time lounging inside one of the buildings mechanical closets and howling at the water stains. The Wizard was often in a sour mood and was always muttering about things The Farmer didn’t understand. “I don’t even get to show up in this chapter,” he said the last time The Farmer saw him. “Only mentioned in a freaking summary.”

As for Alex, The Farmer had only seen the other man in passing. There was still mostly just small talk between them whenever they passed each other, but The Farmer was already getting the impression that Alex was a little arrogant. All he talked about was gridball this and gridball that, and The Farmer was pretty sure the guy didn’t even have a job. Both these factors should have detracted from his attractiveness, but much to The Farmer’s frustration he still found his heart stupidly skipping a beat whenever their eyes met. Damn Yoba for making him was a sucker for dimples and a cute smile.

He was doing stupid things in front of Alex; like the time The Farmer had passed by Alex’s house. Alex was out front, standing beneath the big oak tree and playing catch with himself. They’d made eye contact, and Alex told The Farmer to go long and threw the ball at him. Instead of acting like a normal person catching it with his hands, The Farmer caught the ball with his face. After that he swore to himself that he’d focus on his farm and stop purposefully looking for the other man like he was some school-girl crushing on the first boy to go through puberty.

And yet, he still found himself going out of the way to interact with Alex.

For example, a few weeks back there was a post on the job board from Evelyn. The Farmer had learned from talking to other villagers at the Stardrop Saloon that she was Alex’s grandmother. The post was requesting help on some secret project, and she would explain the details in person. In his stupid puppy-love logic, The Farmer thought that if he took the job he might have an excuse to talk to Alex. So he pulled down the job posting and ran directly to their house.

To his disappointment, Evelyn answered the door. He did his best to hide it as she ushered him in. She was a very tiny woman who spoke pleasantly soft. She often leaned in when talking and squinted frequently; The Farmer had wondered on more than one occasion if she needed glasses. But Evelyn made him quickly forget his disappoint. She was the human embodiment of kindness and he found he genuinely enjoyed speaking with her; plus, she was always baking and the house always had a pleasant fragrance to it.

The Farmer learned that Evelyn put together flower bouquets for everyone in town when their birthday came around. Haley’s was coming up, but a recent frost had killed most of the flowers in her garden and she wanted help growing more—that’s why her job posting had been vague. The Farmer agreed and grew as many blue jazz and tulips as he could. Through their combined efforts, and some lucky weather, Evelyn had an overwhelming number of flowers to make Haley’s bouquet from. The older woman insisted that The Farmer be there when they presented the gift, but he declined, saying it was her idea and she should take credit. But if the sudden spike of requests for locally grown flowers was any indicator, Evelyn had mentioned his involvement to at least one person in town.

Only one thing about his farm bothered him. Everything currently growing in it was for someone else. Ideally, when he was more self-sufficient, he would be growing all his food. But currently, his farm looked like more of a backyard garden. He knew he shouldn’t be selfish or impatient, but as he gazed over the still mostly overgrown fields he had a thought.

I guess it can’t hurt to start planning ahead.

Year: 1

Season: Spring

Date: 24th

“Twenty-five gold per package? Are you insane?”

“You and I both know that you still have a massive surplus of stock still sitting around, Pierre.” The Farmer was leaning over the wooden booth, wearing his best poker face. “Abby let it slip at The Saloon a few nights ago. You really should tell your daughter to be a little more tight-lipped. You never know when one of your rivals might be listening.”

Pierre met The Farmer’s look with one of his own. His arms were crossed, and he glared at The Farmer over the rim of his glasses. Pierre was the owner of the general store—aptly named Pierre’s—and was a plain-looking man with plain-looking brown hair and eyes. “And so what if I do? Some of the townsfolk have private gardens of their own.” After a pause he added, “Eighty-five gold.”

“Pierre, there’s less than a week of spring left. That’s barely enough time to grow a single harvest before the summer heat kills them. I’m willing to buy your whole stock. That way you won’t have to take any losses this month. Thirty-five.”

“But I won’t make any profit either. You and I are both competing with JojaMart now, and I need to make up for profit I lose to them. Sixty-five.”

“Fine, I see your point.” The Farmer rubbed his chin, attempting to look contemplative-like. “Forty gold.”

Pierre’s right eye twitched.

“And!” Quickly summoning all the charisma he could, The Farmer added, “You’ll get my final spring harvest for three-quarters price. Surely people will still want a taste of spring during that first week of the summer heat.”

Pierre stared him down several moments longer. The Farmer was beginning to fear he pushed his luck too far. Pierre was literally the only place to buy seeds from other than JojaMart. Given his distaste for his former employer, he didn’t want to get himself banned from Pierre’s. He was about to recant but then Pierre broke his poker face. First came a snort, followed a massive smile. He brought a hand to cover his face, shaking his head back and forth for a moment as in disbelief. “Alright Farmer,” Pierre extended his hand. “You drive a hard bargain, but you’ve got yourself a deal. Swing by the store tomorrow.”

The Farmer took it, beaming. “Pleasure doing business with you. Now, can I also purchase that Rarecrow from you?”

Pierre gave a ‘why not’ shrug and handed the scarecrow over the counter. As money was exchanged, he said, “You know, I can’t remember the last time someone in this town tried to haggle prices with me. Honestly, it was a bit of a rush.”

“Well you better get used to it because I would never be caught dead in JojaMart.”

Pierre’s smile lost a bit of its cheer. “So, not to look a gift horse in the mouth—I really do appreciate your business—but can I ask why that is? I won’t be caught dead in JojaMart, but my reasons are obvious; they’re putting me out of business.”

The Farmer felt his face fall, but did his best to hide his distain. “Nothing special really. I used to work for them but then decided I'm never going to support them after being apart of such a soul draining process.”

“Can’t say I argue with that logic.” Pierre waved his hand in the air. “But enough of that topic. This is a festival! Go out, dance, have some fun!” 

The Farmer waved goodbye to Pierre and walked to an edge of the clearing. Leaning it against the fence, he set the Rarecrow down. Looking over the small festival, he felt like he stood at the edge of a painting.

The Flower Dance was a local tradition where the villagers went all out with flowers, and the location was impressive. Deeper in the forest than The Farmer had ever delved before was a small clearing that sat on the edge of a babbling brook. There were several fruit trees that lined the clearing, each one branch filled with colorful, blossoming flowers. The fence surrounding the area was lined with white banners and even more flowers. Villagers wore flowers in their hair and Pierre even set up his stand to sell flowers and other goods right at the entrance of the clearing. He’d never seen so much natural color in one place before.

As he took in the festival, two small figures ran towards him. Specifically, towards his newly purchased scarecrow. Jas and Vincent, the only two residents of the village under the age of ten, started bombarding him with questions.

“Can I touch it?” Vincent asked, already having climbed the fence and touching the yellow straw that made its hair. Vincent had ginger-colored hair, like his mother Jodi. His new shorts already looked like they had grass-stains on them which would surely please his mother.

“Pierre said it wasn’t a toy,” Jas said. It sounded like she was scolding Vincent, but the girl already had her hand touching the fabric of the overalls. Her black hair was tied back with a green bow and she had a round face resembling her aunt’s, Marnie. “It’s really pretty. Her face looks like a person's.”

Jas was so busy admiring the scarecrow that she didn’t notice Vincent playing with one of its arms. He surprised her by suddenly flicking one of the arms up, giggling as she squealed in fear.

The Farmer watched them with amusement. Suddenly, he got an idea. “You know, Pierre told me something strange about this scarecrow.” Jas and Vincent exchanged a look.

“What did he tell you?” Jas asked.

“Well, whenever he would turn his back to it, it would move. Nothing big though. Just instead of it lying on the floor, he’d find it resting against the wall. Or if he left it face down, he’d find it lying face up instead.”

“You’re lying,” Vincent proclaimed.

The Farmer shrugged. “I’m just telling you what Pierre said. Apparently, this scarecrow doesn’t like its face being covered. It’s gotta be able to see everything with its eyes.”

“Well if we stare at it, it won’t move.” Vincent bravely leapt off the fence and took a step behind Jas. “Right Jas?”

“Right,” she said.

Neither child removed their eyes from the scarecrow. So, while they were distracted, The Farmer discreetly kicked the wooden post attached to it. It lurched towards Jas and Vincent, who screamed and latched onto The Farmer’s legs. The Farmer snickered to himself.

“Children!” Penny came running at their scream. “What are you doing? Are you bothering The Farmer?” Penny was the town’s school teacher. As Pelican Town’s population was less than twenty and the nearest school was a two-hour bus ride away, Penny used her teaching license to teach at the town’s tiny library instead. The Farmer had gotten to know her pretty well over the last month, as he frequented the library himself to do research for his farm. She had amber colored hair and always dressed in a yellow blouse and pencil-skirt. She often reminded The Farmer of a character from a tv show he watched as a child; a wacky woman with a magical bus.

Jas ducked behind Penny, clutching at her teacher’s skirt. “It moved!” She pointed at the Rarecrow. Vincent was right behind her, nodding his head vigorously.

“It did?” Penny glanced at The Farmer, who gave her a guilty smile in return. She gave him a wry smile before turning to the children. “Well then why don’t you leave this to The Farmer and I. I’m sure the two of us can make it stop moving. You two find Marnie and Jodi and ask them to help you find some flowers. If you find enough, I’ll teach you how to turn them into crowns.”

Jas and Vincent both hesitated for a moment before simultaneously saying, “Okay.” Both children ran off, casting only a few cautious glance back at the scarecrow. Penny turned to The Farmer when they left, “I’m sorry if they were bothering you.”

“No, they weren’t a bother,” The Farmer assured her. “They were just asking a lot of questions, and I may have told them a white lie.”

“About the scarecrow I assume?”

“Guess it’s not just good for scaring off birds, but also kids now.”

Penny laughed, covering her smile with a hand. The Farmer liked Penny. She was sweet and kind, qualities any good teacher should possess. After he found her for the first time wandering a part of his overgrown field—much to her embarrassment—he’d usually encounter her out in town with the two children in tow. In the rare occasions she wasn’t followed by the children, she’d take root under a tree near the town’s graveyard with a book in her lap. She was quiet, but was always full of questions, just like her students. She was one of the first people in town he’d actually call a friend.

“Ms. Penny, come on!” Vincent was calling from across the clearing, his hands already full of dandelions.

“Oh dear, I’d better go before he uproots the entire forest. But,” she gave him a small smile, not hiding it this time. “Maybe I’ll see you for a dance later?”

The Farmer’s heartbeat had a sudden spike. Tell her no, he thought to himself. We’re just gonna be friends. Nothing beyond. She needs to know. Set the boundaries now.

But his courage faltered. “Maybe later.”

Penny waved goodbye as she walked away, leaving The Farmer alone with his scarecrow. When he was alone, his half-smile dropped off his face. He’d been trying to forget about the opening dance. Lewis mentioned it the night before when he’d picked up the crops to be shipped out. Tradition dictated that all of the single bachelor and bachelorettes lines up for a dance.

Looking around, there was a lot of people already splitting up into boy-girl pairings. The Farmer had zero interest in women, romantically or sexually. He wasn't naïve and imagined that if he did end up living out here for the rest of his life, his sexuality would eventually become a topic of small town gossip. It all depended on how he went about coming out to his new neighbors. Ideally, his coming out scenario involved building a friendship with everyone and establishing himself as a community figure—or at the very least a loner that lived at the edge of town.  Meanwhile, he'd gracefully dodge out of any conversations pertaining to his romantic inclinations. Then when he’d felt confident enough, he'd casually drop a "By the way, I'm gay," in a random conversation. That way, if anyone disapproved of his ‘lifestyle,’ they’d at least have to keep up a socially polite façade around him and keep any comments behind closed doors.  Depending on this town however, he might also have to start locking his door. But for now, he’d just stick to his plan of being a wallflower. Hidden under the shade of a tree; just a farmer and his scarecrow.

“My dear Farmer. What a pleasant surprise.”

And apparently the gremlin too.

The Farmer glared at Morris as he approached. Morris wore his usual smile, which was starting to unnerve The Farmer. It was hard to get Morris to not smile. It seemed impossible to get any sort of reaction out of the man that was remotely human. It was more than likely that his face was probably stuck that way. The perfect Joja customer service robot.

“It’s a lovely afternoon, isn’t it?” Morris asked.

“I guess.” The Farmer made a dramatic motion of looking at his bare wrist. “Oh, would you look at the time! Morris, don’t you have to be somewhere to kick a puppy soon?”

“Oh, I’m sure I can reschedule. I want to make time to talk to you. Have you given any more thought to that Joja Membership? I still have the paperwork on me.”

“You still have that? Morris, you know people talk. They’ll start to think you’re in love with me.”

“Just a small fraction of the loyalty and support we provide our members with.”

“If this is how you treat non-members, what would you do if I became one? Will you move into my house and start cooking me dinner?”

“If that’s what it’d take to get you to sign up.”

The Farmer made a retching noise. “Ew. No. Gross. I’d like to keep the number of creepy little men living in my house at zero.”

“Very well. Would you like me to bring some brochures next time? I’m sure that would help convince you.”

“Go away Morris.”

Morris raised his hands defensively and backed away. As he went off to find the next unfortunate soul to solicit, The Farmer closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. Morris was more of a headache than he imagined. The Farmer thought that by simply ignoring Morris, the man would get a hint. But on one unfortunate day, Morris had taken The Farmer’s silence as a good sign and continued to yammer away for half a day as The Farmer worked in his fields. Surprisingly, the quickest way to get Morris to leave him alone was to just tell him to go away.

There was a new weight on The Farmer’s shoulders as someone threw an arm over him. Belonging to a certain someone that smelled like baked goods and bacon. “Hey farm boy, how’s it going?”

The Farmer opened his eyes to glare at the newcomer, Alex. He was pretty sure everyone here had small town syndrome, and he was the shiny new toy that everyone wanted to play with. Whenever he left the farm alone, he found he was never able to return alone. People approached him one after another and forced him into conversations about himself he didn’t want to have. It was like he was being forced into a game of Twenty Questions every time. Every trip to Pierre's that should have taken no more than thirty minutes was drawn out into an hour or sometimes longer.

Alex was, however, an exception. He’d never once asked about The Farmer’s personal or daily life or even his family, only talked about himself. Another reason why The Farmer was so frustrated that Alex was so damn attractive. He was a self-absorbed jock that liked to stroke his own ego. 

The Farmer's glare didn’t drop in hostility. He found it frustrating that Alex had found it second-nature to break their touch barrier. It was frustrating that every time Alex touched him, he got butterflies in his stomach. The Farmer had to keep telling himself that the only reason he felt like this was because Alex looked like he was a more grown-up version of a very common gay fantasy. He brimmed with confidence and came equip with a face that was halfway between boyishly cute and ruggedly attractive. And for Yoba’s-sake, Alex was a man who had to be in his early twenties, yet he still managed to fit into his high-school letterman jacket like a snuggly-fit glove despite all his muscles.

He couldn’t speak for all gay men, but The Farmer felt pretty confident in assuming he wasn’t the only gay kid who’d spent a bored school afternoon starting out the window and day-dreaming about Alex's type; day-dreaming about the captain of one of the school’s sports teams coming onto him. Or stealing a kiss between classes behind a locker door and a conveniently placed textbook. Or running onto the court or field or whatever sports arena they were on and throwing their arms around each other after a game-wining play and laughing joyfully without a care in the world about who saw them.

“You know, Farmer,” Alex leaned closer to his ear and whispered. “If you couldn’t find a date for the dance, you didn’t have to make one.” His shit-eating grin said he’d just told the most hilarious joke of all time and was waiting for someone to praise him.

In any other situation, he probably would have loved to let Alex do as he pleased. It's wasn't a terrible thing to let Alex remain this close. But The Farmer found that his conversation with the Joja gremlin left a taste in his mouth, one that made him want to be alone. Leave it to Morris to be such a mood killer.

The Farmer removed Alex’s arm from his shoulder and resumed his activity of gazing broodily out at the flower-filled clearing. “Well my fields are getting bigger. Unless you wanna volunteer to sit out there and bang pots and pans together, I needed another scarecrow to fend of the birds.”

Alex stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket and leaned against the fence with The Farmer. “Wow, it’s all work and no play with you, isn’t it? With that attitude you’ll probably get rejected if you tried to ask any of the girls to dance.”

The Farmer knew Alex didn’t mean anything by it, but a prickle of fresh hostility rushed through him. Alex was just making a statement. A rather true one at that, but not for the reason Alex was thinking of. “Oh, there’d be rejections alright." The Farmer said quickly, and probably with a little to much venom on his tongue.  "But it’s okay. I’m not a great dancer anyways. My mother once said I looked like a headless chicken when I dance. Apparently, I bounce too much.”

“Well I’m sure if you asked my grandma she’d be willing to be your teacher. She already loves you for the flowers you grow.” Alex gave The Farmer a playful shove with his shoulder. “Maybe you’ll even sweep her off her feet and steal her away from my grandpa.”

The Farmer snorted. “If I’m sweeping anyone off their feet, I think my best chance is with Pam." He nodded over in the direction of the woman.  The local drunk, she was wearing her usual combo of pink sweater and jeans. "When I heard it was her birthday last week, I bought her a beer and I’m pretty sure she’s been eyeing me up ever since.”

Alex snorted before erupting into soft laughter. His eyes closed, his lips curled back into a real, toothy grin. And again, his dimples accented his face. The Farmer couldn’t help but stare. Yoba, here he was trying to be cynical and off-putting, but he was failing spectacularly.

Quickly, before Alex noticed him staring, The Farmer changed the topic. Maybe he could try playing nice instead. “So, since I’m the new guy in town, tell me. What else is there to do at the Flower Festival for a dateless, headless chicken like me?”

“Well most of the festival is just a bunch of dances.” Alex admitted. “At the end, everyone votes on who danced the best and we crown them that year’s Flower Prince and Princess. So, you could probably just enjoy the food and enjoy the view, if you know what I mean.”

Alex nodded over to the center of the field, and The Farmer followed Alex’s gaze, finding a few of the towns bachelorette's had gathered. Most noticeably, Haley. Haley was the towns stereotypical beauty and The Farmer often saw her and Alex hanging out together. She had long, luscious, and voluptuous blond hair that cascaded down her neck. She had a different outfit for every day of the month, plus at least two different accessories for each outfit. She pulled off each one as easily as a model on the catwalk. She was a few paces away, just out of earshot, practicing a dance for the festival. And Alex just so happened to nod towards her as she bent over, giving the two men a rather generous view.

The smile fell from The Farmer’s face, and his mood soured again. In a voice so cold it surprised even himself, he said, “Oh, I see.”

Alex frowned, looking over at him.

Before either had a chance to say anything further, Jas and Vincent ran over. Their arms were full of flowers, fear of the Rarecrow apparently forgotten.

“We need to borrow your head,” Vincent said. “We’re gonna make crowns for you so we need to know how big it is.”

“Shhhh! That’s a secret!" Jas hissed.

The Farmer did his best to radiate a mood that said that he was deliberately not paying attention to Alex. He pushed off from the fence and kneeled down, placing hands on both of the children’s heads. “Well if it’s a secret, then I’ll make sure to not tell Ms. Penny, okay?”

“Okay!” Both children said in unison. They each took one of The Farmer’s hands and dragged him across the clearing, leaving Alex alone in the shade with the scarecrow.

Later, when flowers had been tangled into The Farmer's hair, instead of being fastened into a crown, he found himself once again rested against the fence near his scarecrow. Alex had gone, and The Farmer managed to convince Lewis that he'd hurt himself on the farm this morning and shouldn't be dancing. He'd been exempt and was perfectly content with watching. He'd much rather be at home, but figured that is was better to stay and be seen for the sake of small town politics. 

Lewis clapped his hands together from the edge of the clearing and proclaimed that dance was about to begin, and all the single men and women lined up. As they did, Alex cast several curious glances his way, which The Farmer pretended to not notice.

He knew he was being unreasonable, and probably a little harsh for someone that barely knew him. Just shutting down mid-conversation wasn’t a great strategy when it came to making friends, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted Alex as any more than an acquaintance. Just a stupidly cute acquaintance he could safely daydream about if he felt like it. Just like like all his other crushes in high school.

Then the music started, and the dance began. When it was over, The Farmer had a hand over his mouth and there were tears in his eyes. He had to look away from what he had just witnessed.

'Dear, Yoba. None of them know how to dance.'

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 8th

“Hey Farmer!” The Farmer looked up from where he was tilling the ground. Lewis was standing on the other side of the field, waving over to him. His green and brown pickup was parked outside the cottage. “I’m picking up your shipment. Got anything else you wanna send out?”

“Yeah! I’ll be right there!” The Farmer called back. He wiped his face with his bandana, stuffed the cloth back into his pocket, and ran across the field. The summer heat rolled in quickly, bringing with it a heavy humidity that wouldn’t break. He rarely went into town these days, especially when the sun was up. So, when he finished his daily field work, he often opted to lying on the floor in front of the small fan he'd purchased a while back. It was honestly nerve-wracking at first, sitting around in the middle of the day and not doing anything. He had to gently remind himself to unlearn his Joja habits of needing to always feel productive. He'd done his work for the day, so he could safely and comfortably rest inside, listening to whatever channel his tv felt like tuning in to.

Since no one visited him on the farm aside from Lewis, he was very tempted to slather himself in sunscreen and just work naked. However, he didn’t quite have the courage needed to become an exhibitionist on his own property. He went instead with cargo shorts and a tank top, accessorized with his choice of bandana. He’d managed to clear another small section of field, so now the cleared land stretched the length of the cottage all the way to the river at the far edge of the farm. Respectable work if he had to say so himself. Only half of it actually had crops growing in it, but he figured it was better to keep the fields maintained for when he could afford to start growing more crops en mass.

The Farmer went inside the cottage and brought out the bundles of radishes, tied together with rope, that he had harvested that morning and added them to the wooden crate. Together, the two loaded the crate into the bed of the truck.

“There we are,” Lewis swiped his hands together, as if dusting them off. “By the way, I still have to thank you for those peppers you dropped off the other day. I haven’t had farm-fresh produce in years and they were delicious!”

“Just repaying my promise,” The Farmer said with a smile. “But aren’t you a little early? It’s not even noon.”

“Yeah, but I gotta head into the city today. Still got a few things to sort out and pick up before the Luau. Speaking of, you’ll be bringing your best, right?”

“My best for what?”

“For the Luau!” Lewis frowned at The Farmer. “It’s in a couple of days. Don’t tell me you forgot.”

The Farmer shrugged. The few trips he did make into town were straight into Pierre’s to buy seeds and then straight back to the farm. It was too hot to focus on anything else, the community calendar included. “Oh yeah, the Luau. What do we do there again?”

“Well now that it’s warm enough to go swimming, we celebrate with some dancing on the beach and a barbecue. But,” Lewis’ eyes twinkled. “Our biggest attraction is the hot pot! Everyone in town contributes an ingredient and we mix them all together in the world's largest pot.”

“Doesn’t just throwing random ingredients together end up tasting bad?”

“Hm, you would think, wouldn’t you? But Marnie oversees the hot pot, and she can work miracles with food. She's got a special talent, and is someone of a special lady too.” Lewis looked off blissfully into the distance. Several moments passed, and The Farmer debated giving the man a moment alone. Lewis suddenly then took note of the silence and cleared his throat before continuing. “But anyways, we get tourists that come into town so it’s a big event for everyone. The Governor even stops by for a bowl every year. So, you’d better make sure to bring your best crops!”

“Alright, I’ll do my best.”

The Farmer waved goodbye as Lewis got in his truck and drove away. When the truck was out of sight, he frowned. There was a meow from his feet, and The Farmer bent down to pick up the stray cat that Marnie had brought by. Marnie was his neighbor just south of the farm. She was an older woman—similar in age to Lewis—and took care of animals for a living. She had chickens, ducks, cows, and even goats on her own ranch. One day, she’d shown up with her niece, Jas, holding the bright orange cat. Marnie explained that the cat couldn’t stay with her because it spooked the cows and asked if The Farmer would take it in.

He accepted in a heart-beat, naming the stray cat Saber. He assumed that by naming the cat after its ancestor, the saber-toothed tiger, him might catch a few of the mice running around the farm. Unfortunately, Saber turned out to be a lazy good-for-nothing who’s only talent was finding creative spots on the farm to nap. But still, it was nice to finally have an animal on the farm, even if the only use The Farmer got out of him was looking less crazy when he talked to himself.

“You know Saber,” he said to the cat, scratching his head, “I wish Lewis would have told me sooner about the Luau. I don’t think any of my crops with actually be ready in time.”

“Meow.”

“Yes, I know it’s my fault for not paying attention. But honestly, he shouldn’t put so much expectation on me. I only started working as a farmer last month.” The Farmer walked as he talked to his cat, heading back for the tools he left in the field. “You think Lewis would get mad if I brought a basket of wild grapes instead? Wild food can taste just as good if you know what to look for. I could just tell him I grew them on the farm.”

“Meow.”

“Oh hush. I could grow them on the farm if I wanted to.”

Saber didn’t reply, but instead decided he’d had enough of being carried. He wriggled out of The Farmer’s hands, leaping to the ground and trotted a few feet ahead, casting a look back at The Farmer.

“Fine, be that way, brat.” The Farmer started to gather up his discarded tools. It was hot today, and he’d decided to finish his daily maintenance later when the sun went down. “I guess you just get to stay here while I go enjoy fishing by myself. See if I bring you back anything.” He picked up the shovel, but paused mid-motion. “Wait, that’s it!” He declared, righting himself suddenly and startlingly Saber. The cat regarded him warily as The Farmer turned to him. “Fish! Fish always goes with any kind of hot pot.” He smiled, proud of his ingenious idea. He started back for the cottage with Saber in tow. “You liked that sturgeon I caught for you, right?”

“Meow.”

“Of course you did.”

He half-jogged across the field, rushing into the cottage and putting the tools away. Saber waited for the human on the front porch, curling up into a ball and getting ready to start his seventh nap for the day. A few minutes passed until The Farmer came back outside, having cleaned himself up and got his backpack ready for the trip into the mountains. Before he stepped off the porch however, the lumber pile he kept nearby caught his eye. The lumber made him think of Robin. Robin lived in the mountains, and Robin built stuff. Stuff like chicken coops. Chickens lay eggs, which can be used in breakfast foods. Alex liked breakfast foods.

“I wonder how much Robin charges for a chicken coop.”

“Meow.”

The Farmer spun on his cat. “Don’t you use that tone of voice with me young man.”

Saber stretched out his front paws and then rolled over so his back was to the Farmer.

“Don’t ignore me. I’m doing this for you. You’ll have some chickens you can terrorize, and you can work on getting rid of that gut.” The Farmer stepped off the porch, and his last conversation with Alex from the Flower Festival repeated itself in The Farmer's head. "I'm doing this for you Saber."

Saber yawned.

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 9th

The whole cottage shook as the wind slammed against it. Outside the rattling window, black clouds swirled across the sky. Rain poured heavily in sheets, battering the fields. Three Junimos—Orange, Green, and Blue—were gathered on the top of the television set. The purple one stood at the front, brandishing a carrot stolen from the refrigerator at their foe. The yellow eyes of The Beast shone at from underneath The Hero's bed in the other room. Orange hated that of all nights for it to storm, it had to be on its shift. This Beast pursued its kind relentlessly nearly every night. The Junimos were forced to take shifts in which they would use themselves as bait for The Beast, distracting it lest it raid their home at the community center.

Outside, a tree branch snapped from the pressure of the wind and was thrown into the side of the cottage. The sound make Orange jump, and its two companions scream. Orange dropped the carrot and spun on Green and Blue. "Look at what you two idiots made me do!" 

“Everyone down!” Blue cried.

Orange turned, just in time to see The Beast illuminated by a flash of lightening as he darted across the floor. His orange fur zipping towards them before tensing up his haunches as he prepared to jump

The three Junimos dove in different directions. The Beast’s initial attack missed, but he landed gracefully where the Junimos had once stood on the TV.  Green unfortunately fell under his gaze, and The Beast dove after it. There was no time to react for Green, who was knocked out of the air and sent flying Blue by the powerful swipe.

“Green!” Blue rushed to its friend’s side. “Green, speak to me!”

“Blue, are you there?” Green waved its small arm out, gently touching Blue’s face and dramatically coughing.

Blue took Green’s hand in its own. “Yes, I’m here, my friend.”

“Please, you must tell Purple something for me.”

“Don’t speak like that. You’re gonna make it. You can tell Purple yourself!”

“Please, you have to, tell Purple, tell them, that I always hated their, their shadow puppets...” Green’s hand fell out of Blue's and slowly fell to the floor where it bounced dramatically. Twice.

“NO!” Blue screamed, shaking both fists in the air.

The Beast watched the performance curiously from a distance with wide and excited eyes. His head was close to the floor and butt stuck in the air, still ready to pounce.

Green opened one eye half-way. “Is it working?” It whispered.

“I don’t know.” Blue whispered back. It didn’t dare to move or look at The Beast. “What do I do now? We didn’t practice any more than this.”

The Beast had seen enough. He leapt into the air, claws outstretched. The two Junimos screamed, jumping out of the way, narrowly avoiding certain death.

“Up here you foul beast!”

Orange soared through the air, brandishing a new weapon: one of The Hero’s socks. Landing on The Beasts back, Orange whipped the sock across The Beast's face in an attempt to muzzle him. The Beast yowled, rearing back on his hind legs to try and throw Orange off. The Junimo held fast for several seconds, but then the sock slipped from one of its hands. The Beast bucked violently, propelling Orange into the air until the Junimo crashed into the television set. The movement knocked the remote to the floor. When it hit, the tv sprung to life. The Beast started, tail puffed in fear as he gauged the new threat.

Meanwhile, the Junimos used this moment to escape and regroup, scrambling up the side of the fridge and hiding just out of view.

“For those of us just joining us,” the weather announcer's voice filled the cottage. “We’re currently tracking Hurricane Morton, which is expected to hit the mainland soon. Morton has been classified as a category two hurricane and this cell is expected to break apart quickly once it makes landfall. After tropical storms Iggy and Larry collided and fused together to form Morton, the super-cell became unstable, but violent. All towns and cities along the coast can expect winds up to 95 miles-per-hour and heavy rainfall. The first town expected to see the effect of the storm is Pelican Town and all residents are strongly urged to stay indoors. If you haven’t evacuated to a shelter already, then don’t risk going outside. Stay away from windows and take every precaution to stay safe.”

A sudden and vicious pounding from the front door sent The Beast running back to the bedroom, scrambling to hide under the bed once again. There was more banging, and then the door flew open. Rain and wind rushed in hastily drenching whatever it could get it hands on. Two figures in raincoats entered, one holding a flashlight, and scanned the room.

“Damn, he’s not here either.” The Mayor swore under his breath. “Where in Yoba’s name did The Farmer disappear to?”

The second figure, The Rancher, dropped the hood of her coat went to the bedroom. She looked around before kneeling down and finding The Beast under the bed. Her voice was low and soft, and to coax The Beast out of hiding. Her light brown hair hung to one side of her head in a ponytail and she portrayed pity in her amber eyes.

The Junimos watched the two humans while still hidden atop the refrigerator. From outside, there was a loud snapping that drew The Mayor's attention back to the door. Orange, curious, managed to lean out just enough to see through the window, and watch as the wind flattened two trees to the ground, their roots whipping through the air in a naked frenzy.

“The storm’s getting worse,” The Mayor said. “We need to get out of here.”

The Rancher was successful in her coaxing, and now had the terrified looking Beast safely tucked away against her breast under the raincoat. “He’s wasn’t at my ranch either. You don’t think he’s in the mountains, do you?”

“It’s about the only place we haven’t checked.” The Mayor pulled his hood more tightly around his head. “Come on, let’s go back and see if he’s turned up yet.”

When the door was closed, the Junimos cautiously peeked out.

“Is it safe?” Blue asked.

“They took The Beast away. It should be, for now.” Green said. “Do you think The Hero is safe?”

Orange walked over the remote, looking up at the TV. The announcer was still going on, “Again, the worst of Hurricane Morton is expected to hit Pelican Town within the hour.”

Blue and Green joined Orange, and Orange continued looking up at the tv when it spoke. “I sure hope he is.”

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 9th

As Willie might have said, the residents of Pelican Town were packed into the Stardrop Saloon tighter than a can of sardines. Most people had taken up residence on the floor, huddled together in small groups around the bar. It was difficult to move without accidentally kicking or stepping on someone. Which is something Robin was apologizing to Clint—the town’s blacksmith—for doing for the seventh time that night. Robin was one of the few people up and moving around, pacing in what little space was available and muttering to herself.

Alex didn’t pay her a lot of mind, doing his own fussing instead. “Are you sure you’re alright grandpa? I’m sure I can get you another blanket if you need it.”

“Gosh dangit, I’m fine boy." George snapped, "I’ve got everything I need.” George was still a little wet from being wheeled into the saloon, and a towel hung around his shoulders. Though their house was the closest, they had been some of the last to arrive thanks to George’s stubbornness. He refused to leave the house, even after a loose tree branch shattered a window in their kitchen. His family won out though—given that he was bound to his wheelchair—and he protested every moment of being pushed through the wind and mud by Alex.

George looked down at the picture frame in his hands. It showed a woman and man, holding a newborn baby Alex in their arms; the man's face had been cut out of the photo. In a quieter voice George added, “Everything important at least.”

Alex put his hand on his grandfather's shoulder, giving a somber smile at him while George gazed at the photo. They were parked under the wooden bear statue to be closer to the fire. Dusty, in all his bravery, had taken up residence underneath the wheelchair and whimpered whenever the winds rattled the foundation. Evelyn sat in the booth nearby with Penny, and together the two of them played cards with Jas and Vincent to distract the children from the storm. Alex took a sat between them on a pillow on the floor.

Before a minute passed, the front doors were slammed open from the wind. Two people, Haley and her sister Emily, rushed in from the storm. Both were soaking wet and without raincoats. Those closest to the doors rushed to close them, and Gus hurried over to the sisters with towels in hand. Alex waited for them to finish toweling off, and them waved them over once Haley caught his eye.

“Alexxxxxxx,” Haley whined as she sat next to him and then collapsed dramatically over his lap. She was still damp and had the towel hanging from her shoulders. She brought the back of her hand to her forehead and sniffled. “I just had the worst five minutes of my life. First our windows get blown out, throwing glass all over the house, and then our power goes out!”

“It was rather difficult trying to sense where our raincoats were in the dark,” Emily said as she sat down across from them. You’d never be able to tell the sisters were related unless someone told you. Emily was a few years older and stood several inches taller than her sister. She had short purple hair with small chunks of it at uneven lengths, like she had cut it herself. “We eventually gave up. The wind also made it rather difficult to walk normally. Luckily, I was able to make the trip without the use of my sight. I could feel everyone's aura gather in this place and followed the trail.”

Haley cast a glare of annoyance at her sister. “You just won’t admit that the wind spun you around.” She looked back up at Alex. “I swear, the wind is so strong I was lifted off the ground for a solid two seconds. It’s like this storm is targeting me personally.”

The lights in the saloon flickered.

“Well I’m taking that as a sign to throw you out.” Alex smiled at her playfully. “It’s for the good of the town.”

Haley sat up with a glare painted on her face. “Don’t you even dare.”

“Excuse me,” Robin walked over to the group, addressing Haley and Emily. “I don’t suppose either of you have seen The Farmer?”

Haley sat up and exchanged a look with her sister.

“Sorry, we didn’t,” Emily said.

Robin frowned. Alex could feel the anxiety she expelled, like a wave washing over him at the beach. Her eyes darted around the saloon, desperately searching. “Nobody's seen him today. I saw him yesterday when he came to hire me to build a chicken coop, but that’s apparently the last time anyone saw him. Lewis and Marine went to check if he was at the farm, but he hasn't been answering anyone's calls. ”

“He’ll be fine,” George grumbled. “The storm probably just knocked out service. Besides, that cottage has stood for decades. A little storm won’t blow it over or kill anyone.”

Morris, who was nursing a drink at the bar, scoffed and muttered to himself, “Maybe if the storm kills him, the mayor will just give me the community center.”

Luckily for the Joja Gremlin, no one seemed to have heard him. 

Robin continued. “But that’s what I’m worried about,” she lamented. “It may have been a sturdy cottage, but it’s been nearly two decades since there’s been anyone to properly take care of it, who knows-”

“Pah,” George interrupted with a wave of his hand. “He’s got it better than any of us. He gets a cozy little home all to himself that’s uphill. Meanwhile, we’re all sitting ducks, only two steps from the river. We get so much as five feet of storm surge and  we’re as good as dead.”

Jas' cards suddenly dropped from her hands. Next to her, Vincent's eyes went wide and he asked with a very quiet voice, “We’re gonna die?”

“George!” Evelyn snapped at her husband while Penny reached out to comfort the children.

“What? If that lazy good-for-nothing mayor had actually bothered keeping the community center in shape, we’d be there instead of this deathtrap.” George’s small rant hadn’t gone unnoticed. Many of the villagers nearby now stared blankly at the wall or floor, any previous conversations forgotten. Sam, Vincent’s older brother, seemed to take it the worst. He had curled himself into a ball against the far wall, tightly gripping the back of his neck. His friends, Sebastian and Abby, knelt down on either side of him, exchanging a gloomy expression while both kept a comforting hand on Sam’s back.

Then, the front doors slammed open again. Lewis and Marnie had returned, but Robin’s expression fell when she realized they returned alone. Gus also frowned, but because Marnie had produced The Farmer's cat, Saber from inside her jacket. “Marnie, you’re bringing an animal in here?”

“Oh, the poor creature was terrified, Gus. We couldn't leave him in the run down old shack.”

She set Saber down, and under the sudden gaze of every eye in the room, Saber charged towards the booth which Jas sat at. Jas may not be The Farmer, but she had been the one who had originally found and nursed Saber back to health when he was a stray.

Marnie pulled back the hood of her raincoat and then squeezed some water out of her hair. “He was all alone in that little house in the middle of this giant storm. Anyone would be terrified. Besides, you’ve already got Dusty in here.”

“Alone?” Robin approached the group, accidentally stepping on Clint again while crossing the room. “You didn’t find The Farmer?”

Lewis shook his head grimly. “The cottage was empty. We searched the farm but didn’t find him anywhere.”

“He may have gone looking for higher ground,” Marnie offered. “Maybe he’s headed for your place?”

Robin bit the inside of her cheek. “He’s in more danger in the mountains. The ground is already oversaturated from all the water we got this spring. Who knows how long until a falling tree or mudslide triggers.”

“There was that earthquake a few days ago,” Demetrius added, having stood up to join his wife. He was one of the tallest residents of the village. He had dark-brown skin and a thin build very unlike his wife’s more muscular one. Where Robin took up carpentry, Demetrius studied science and often spent most of his time in his at-home lab. “It’s more than likely there will be some landslides in the next few hours.”

“Honey…”

Demetrius looked at his wife, realization dawning on him when he saw her face. “Oh, I’m sorry Robin.” He kissed her cheek and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I’m just stating the facts. I’m sorry.”

Robin turned into her husband's embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's alright. I know."

Lewis turned to Gus. “Have you managed to check on everyone and see how they’re holding up?”

“No need.” Gus gestured to the filled saloon. “Haley and Emily ran in a few minutes before the two of you. Aside from The Farmer, everyone is here. Well,” Gus stroked his mustache, “Linus hasn’t turned up either, but that’s no surprise. He’s always had an aversion to people. He’s survived worse and knows when to get to shelter. I'm sure he'll be okay.”

“He’ll be fine,” Lewis agreed. “But I am worried about The Farmer.” He closed his eyes and pondered for a moment. Then, Lewis clapped his hands and raised his voice to address the saloon. “Alright everyone, listen up! Marnie and I just came back from checking her place and The Farmer’s. Currently, The Farmer is missing. I want volunteers to help search the town.”

The lights in the saloon flickered once more, blanketing everyone in a prolonged silence.

Robin was first to break it. She removed herself from Demetrius and addressed the room. “The storm is getting worse,” she said. “But that’s all the more reason we should look for him. He hasn’t been here long, but he’s a part of our community. If he’s out there and hurt, I don’t think I could forgive myself for staying cooped up in here.” Her voice fell away towards the end of her statement.

People began murmuring to each other.

“She right,” George said. “Alex, you should volunteer.”

Alex looked over at his grandfather. “What-?”

George huffed and cut him off. “Look, I’d be out there looking for him if I could. That boy’s been helping out the town since the day he moved in, despite the injury your dog inflicted on him.” Dusty whined under the wheelchair. “Besides, your grandma would be devastated if she lost her flower-growing partner.”

Alex was starting to stand before his grandfather finished. “You know, you don’t have to try and guilt me into doing it. I was gonna volunteer anyways.” He offered a hand to Haley, “You wanna come too?”

Haley looked away from the hand guiltily. “I don’t think I’d be much use. That wind would knock me over the second I walked out the door. I’ll stay here and make sure you all have dry towels when you get back instead,” she offered with a half-smile.

“Good luck,” Emily said to Alex.

“Be safe!” Evelyn called after him as he walked away.

Alex joined the group of volunteers gathering around Lewis. It looked like Demetrius, Abigail, Sebastian, Pam, Clint, and Marlon had also stepped forward.

Lewis was currently addressing Harvey and Maru. “Sorry, but I’d like you two to stay here. If The Farmer is hurt, I want to know where to find you.” Harvey nodded and Maru frowned, but she didn’t protest it.

“Alright, as for the rest of you,” Lewis said, “We’ll split into three groups. Pam, Clint, Marlon—I want you three to check the southern part of town and then the beach; but don't get to close to the water if the storm surge has already overtaken the docks. Abigail, you come with Marnie and I, and we’ll do another sweep through the forest. Alex, you go with Demetrius and Sebastian and check the mountains and quarry. They know the area better so stick with them. Gus has extra raincoats and flashlights, and please stay safe. No one is to go off on their own. Is that understood?”

Everyone agreed. Alex got a yellow raincoat and flashlight from Gus, and once Sebastian and Demetrius were ready, the three stepped out into the storm. 

To say the weather had gotten worse since Alex had relocated his grandparents to the saloon would be an understatement. The rain stung his face like needles and he couldn’t hear anything beyond the wind's gnashing of his coat. The storm dropped water onto the town in sheets and flying through the air practically horizontal. The sheer volume of it made it hard to see more than a few yards in front of the group.

It was only after an exhausting climb towards Robin’s home had Alex realized how powerful the storm was. He'd stopped counting the number of felled trees that they had to climb over. The path had been reduced to mud—if it could even be called a path anymore. Alex felt like he was wading through a swamp rather than trekking up a mountain path. Each step forward expended too much energy, leaving him feeling exhausted and broken. He was so exhausted from the climb that he forgot several times that they were supposed to be looking for The Farmer. They were barely even checking the woods around them to see if he'd fallen off the path.

When Robin’s home came into view, he wanted to breath a sigh of relief. There was a tree that had fallen on the roof, but it didn’t look like the tree had damaged the house much; it had simply fallen against the home. The three hadn’t said a word to each other since they left, or if the other two had, Alex didn’t hear them. Demetrius made his way over to his home, gesturing for the two boys to follow. He went inside while Alex and Sebastian searched for any signs of The Farmer outside. They rejoined Demetrius inside, who was shaking his head in disappointment.

“Let’s check by the mine next,” Sebastian said, shaking out his limbs like a dog trying to remove water from himself. “He could have taken shelter there.”

Demetrius frowned, but nodded regardless. "We can't stay in this storm for much longer. If we don't find him up here, we're going to need to go back and take shelter, understood?"

Alex and Sebastian both nodded, and Demetrius stepped out into the storm first. He immediately started jogging towards the the lake, and Sebastian took off after him. Alex yanked the door shut behind himself and moved to follow, but then he saw it.

The flash of a red bandana.

It soared overhead, flying over Robin’s home from higher in the mountains. The wind carried it in a hazardous pattern, dropping it suddenly and yanking it back and forth by invisible hands. The bandana flew back towards the house, and Alex chased it. The wind played with him, yanking the bandana just out of his grasp and back up the path that ran towards the spa. After several fruitless attempts to catch it out of the air, he eventually got lucky. It snagged on a low-hanging tree branch, and Alex finally grabbed the red fabric before it flew away again.

Gripping it between his fisted fingers, Alex turned his gaze up the path. 'He’s gotta be up there,' Alex thought to himself. Where else could the bandana have come from? He turned to yell back at Demetrius and Sebastian, only to realize they were already long gone. Debating if he should fall back and regroup, or push forward, Alex found his decision made for him when Linus’ body collided with his.

Being much smaller than Alex, Linus tumbled to the ground while Alex remained upright. He recognized Linus immediately, as he was the only homeless guy in Pelican Town. He lived in a small tent in the mountains and would occasionally be spotted by other villagers on the edge of town stealing leftover out of people’s trash like a raccoon. He looked like a rattier version of Lewis, only his business casual outfit was yellowed animal skins and he kept his white hair and beard long and wild.

Linus flailed on the ground for several seconds like a startled animal and then froze when he realized he had found another person. He jumped up, only to fall to his knees, and clasped his hands together. “Please, you have to help me! No, him. You have to help him!”

“Help who?”

“The Farmer! He’s hurt. I don’t know what to do!” Linus started crying, or maybe he had been crying the whole time. It was hard for Alex to tell in the storm. Linus wailed, “He’s given me food when I was hungry! But now that he’s hurt I can’t do anything for him! I don’t know what to do!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Alex placed a hand on Linus’s shoulder. He generally avoided the hobo, and talking to him felt a little awkward, but he needed Linus to calm down. Alex attempted to speak in the most calming voice he could while still yelling over the storm. “It’s gonna be okay. Everyone in town is looking for him. Where is he?”

Linus’ bottom lip quivered before he spoke. “I brought him to the spa. I don’t-”

“You don’t know,” Alex interrupted. “I know. You said he’s hurt. How badly?”

“Bad! Really, really bad!”

Alex tried to not get too frustrated at the descriptiveness of the answer. “Linus, I need you to do something. Harvey is at the saloon. Can you go get him and bring him to the spa?”

Linus nodded quickly but stopped. “Wait. What about The Farmer?”

“I’ll take care of him until you get back.” When Linus still hesitated, he added, “I promise. You need to get Harvey. That’ll help The Farmer.”

Linus swallowed before nodding again. His face hardened, and he stood upright, saluting Alex like a solider would to his superior officer, before charging down the mountain path. He bizarrely leapt over a fallen tree in his way, doing a somersault while in the air.

'Okay,' Alex thought. 'That was weird.'

He could have just as easily gone back, why didn’t he? Why did he feel that he needed to see that The Farmer was actually safe? He wasn’t given much time to ponder his thoughts. The wind suddenly grew much more frenzied around him. The multi-popping snaps of a tree’s roots being torn from the earth filled his ears.

One of the trees on the edge of the path plummeted towards him. Reacting on instinct, Alex dove forwards, pulling himself out of harm's way barely in time. The flashlight tumbled out of his grip and its light was swallowed by the storm. He rolled in the mud to look back at the now blocked path. Even if Linus did get to Harvey soon, it would be impossible to reach the spa.

There was more violent snapping from the woods. Alex scrambled to his feet, not bothering to wipe the mud from himself. The sound of displaced earth and falling trees filled the wind. He charged up the mountain path, fueled by the fear of being caught in whatever behind him sounded like two trains colliding. Once he broke free of the path and into the clearing, Alex didn’t stop. The rain stung against his skin as he ran for the spa. Throwing the door open, he slammed it shut behind him.

The spa was dark. The emergency lights were sparsely placed, shedding very little light over the hallways. Despite being separate from the main power, every time the building moaned, the lights flickered. The flickering was more akin to that of a horror movie than a relaxing hot spring, and Alex felt a chill. Hoping he wasn’t making a mistake, he pulled his phone from his pocket—only slightly damp—and turned on the flashlight function.

Something metal fell against the floor. Alex jumped, heart pounding and instinctively telling him to go back into the storm. He'd psyched himself out thanks to the horror movie thought, but further down the hallway he heard someone mutter a string of soft curses.

The Farmer is here, and he’s hurt. Alex reminded himself. He forced himself to swallow his meaningless fear and walked towards the sound. As the opening for the locker bay loomed closer, the cursing grew louder. Tentatively, Alex shined the phone into the bay.

Light fell across The Farmer’s body. He was sitting up with his back to Alex, but Alex recognized him immediately. It was hard to not recognize the ratty flannel shirt and unkempt hair—even when they were soaking wet. The emergency light on the wall was dark, making Alex’s phone the only source of light. The Farmer was sitting on the floor like he'd fallen; the door to one of the lockers was lying next to him, its hinges bronze with rust.

The Farmer turned his head and brought a hand to shield his eyes, like a man who had been trapped underground for several days. “Linus?” The Farmer asked.

“Nope.” Alex placed the phone down on the floor so that it could shine up into the room. It cast a thin veil of light over the two of them, dimly illuminating features of their bodies. Alex knelt down next to The Farmer and tried to smile at him. “Guess again.”

The Farmer squinted, looking startled, “Alex? What are you doing here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We were looking for you.”

The Farmer looked beyond Alex. “We?”

“Well, it’s just me here.” Alex explained. “I was with Sebastian and Demetrius, but we got separated.”

“Why are you guys out in the storm?” The Farmer moved to stand up, but a pained expression shot across his face when he tried to stand.

Alex’s forced smile dropped. He started to reach a hand out, but left it awkwardly hanging in the air before dropping it after realizing he was unsure of what to do. “Are you alright?”

The Farmer grimaced. “Relatively speaking, I am. My ankle’s killing me though.”

Alex looked down The Farmer’s leg; he had the pants on his left leg rolled up to his knee. A disgusting reddish-blue lump had sprouted up over his ankle. Alex reached out and gingerly touched it, drawing a painful hiss from The Farmer. He offered a quick apology. “That’s not a surprise. It looks like you probably sprained it, if not broke something. Here, let me help you.”

Taking The Farmer’s arm and throwing it over his shoulder, Alex shifted so that The Farmer could lean into him. The Farmer was very quiet, and it seemed as if he was keeping his gaze purposefully away from Alex’s face. Alex thought it was a strange thing for him to notice, so he chalked it up to his imagination. The two worked in silence on getting The Farmer up onto the small wooden bench that stretched across the middle of the room.

When The Farmer was seated, he repeated his question. “So why were you out in the storm?”

“I could ask you the same question." Alex said.  "Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be out in a hurricane? Is that how you were hurt?”

A guilty look flashed across The Farmer’s face. “I was,” he hesitated, “fishing.”

“Fishing.”

“Yeah, fishing. I lost track of time and misjudged when I should have gone back. I was heading home when I lost my footing and the next thing I knew, Linus was dragging me into the spa.”

Alex frowned. He felt like he should let it drop at this point, but he continued. “You really need to be more careful. Everyone in town was worried about you. I swear to Yoba, I saw the hairs on Robin’s head turn gray one by one.”

Before The Farmer could respond, Alex’s phone began ringing. He picked it up, announcing first to The Farmer, “It’s Lewis.” Then into his phone, “Hello?”

“Alex, my boy! Thank goodness you’re alright. Sebastian and Demetrius came back without you and said they thought you had gone back ahead of them. Where are you?”

“I’m at the spa right now. The Farmer’s with me too.”

“He—you found him?” Lewis’ voice turned away as he shouted to the people in the saloon. “Alex found The Farmer!”

There was a roaring cheer that came through the earpiece. It was so loud, even The Farmer turned towards the resonating sound that came from Alex’s phone. His expression melted and was hard for Alex to read, even more so now that the light from his phone was turned away.

The sound of a slight scuffle came from the phone, and then Robin’s voice came through it. “Alex! Please, let me talk to him.”

Alex handed the phone over, but The Farmer offered only a confused look. “Robin wants to talk to you,” Alex explained.

The Farmer took it, and after a tentative, ‘Hello?' he jumped. Alex couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he still made out the sound of Robin’s worried voice. The Farmer reassured her over and over that he was really okay, in addition to offering multiple apologies.

While The Farmer talked with Robin, Alex’s eyes became adjusted to the darkness of the room. Then the first thought he had was how strange The Farmer’s expression was. When Alex usually saw him, his resting face was a neutral expression; his mouth never giving any inclination of a smile nor a frown. If he did show anything, it always felt practiced and ingenuine. Kind of like the girl behind the register at the JojaMart. It was little things now, that Alex noticed in The Farmer’s expression that stuck out. Like the worried crinkle of his forehead as he thought of what to say to ease Robin's concern. 

After a couple of minutes passed, The Farmer handed the phone back. “Lewis wants to talk to you.”

Alex took it, and Lewis started speaking immediately. “Now Alex, I want you to be truthful with me while Robin is out of earshot and isn’t trying to steal my phone. Are either of you seriously hurt?”

“I’m fine, just a little wet and muddy. The Farmer,” Alex glanced over at him, his eyes sweeping down to the swollen ankle. “He hurt his ankle. I think it’s sprained.”

Lewis repeated his words quietly to someone on the other end before addressing Alex again. “Harvey says to keep The Farmer from using his leg as much as possible. We’ll try and get up there as soon as possible.”

“Actually, that might be an issue. On my way here, I think there was a small landslide,” Alex explained. “There’s at least five trees blocking the path and a whole lotta mud.”

“Hm, you don’t say.” For some reason, Alex imagined Lewis twirling the tips of his mustache. “Well in that case, you boys should buckle down and prepare for a long night. As soon as the storm breaks we’ll call for an ambulance and start on clearing the path up. In the meantime, make sure you both stay safe and warm and don’t catch a cold.”

The Farmer sneezed.

“Until then, I wish you well!”

Just as Lewis finished talking, Alex heard a clamoring in the background accompanied by wind. It was followed by a familiar voice. “Help, help please! He’s hurt!” Linus’s voice cried. Looks like the hobo made it just a few minutes too late. Alex hung up, pocketing his phone this time. He repeated to The Farmer what Lewis told him.

“Well that’s great. But I doubt I’ll catch a col-” The Farmer cut himself off with a sneeze. Alex tried not to laugh as the other man sniffled and sighed. “I don’t suppose you think these other lockers might have a towel or something? I was looking for one to dry off with." He gestured at the metal door on the floor, “But when I opened the first one that didn’t have a lock on it, the hinges disintegrated.”

“You mean you were gonna just raid people's lockers?” Alex mocked.

“Given the situation, I think I’d be forgiven by the people. Besides, wasn’t this place abandoned like my farm? Who even owns this place?”

“I’m pretty sure the town owns it, like the community center. And this place wasn’t willingly abandoned.” Alex walked over to one of the lockers that had a combination padlock. He began spinning it. “About a year ago there was a small earthquake. No real damage, but it did shake a few rocks loose and block the path here. Joja promised they’d clear the path as soon as possible—a gesture of community service—but they took their sweet time about it.”

The Farmer snorted. “When don’t they?”

Alex shrugged. “Well, this place is used more than the community center. There’s a workout room here that I use during winter. So you’re in luck. I’m one of those people that do have a locker here.” Alex tugged on the lock, and it came open. He rummaged in it for moment before throwing The Farmer green sweats, a white tank top, and a towel. “It’s not much, but at least it’s dry.”

The Farmer stared at the clothing, the look on his face a mixture of disgust and bewilderment. “You’re giving me a pair of your nasty workout clothing?”

“Clean, workout clothing.” Alex emphasized. “I always keep an extra set or two in my locker in case I feel like coming here twice a day. But anyways, there’s a natural hot springs downstairs we can use. I wanna get this mud out of my hair, and we should probably both soak for a bit to make sure we don’t catch a cold.”

“We-,” The Farmer sneezed. “We-, we should what?”

Alex had stripped off his raincoat and varsity jacket and stuffed them into his locker. He glanced over at The Farmer’s stuttering. “Well yeah. Didn’t you ever have someone shove you into the bathtub after playing out in the rain as a kid?”

“I was more of the sit-inside-and-watch-the-rain kind of kid rather than a play-in-the-rain kid. But I actually don’t think I need to-” The Farmer sneezed again. After a moment of silence, his head hung, he said in a quiet voice. “Okay, I guess it couldn’t hurt.”

Alex half-frowned at the other man, confused. He'd just assumed that The Farmer was just a natural loner. He always seemed aloof and bothered whenever Alex tried to approach him, but now it was different. It may have been the injury, but he almost looked embarrassed.  Maybe he’d never been to a public gym?  Alex shrugged it off, grabbing a change of clothing and a towel for himself. He closed the locker and then knelt down with his back to The Farmer.

“Alex...What are you doing?”

“Harvey said you should stay off that leg. It’ll be easier to get you downstairs if I carry you on my back.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah it’ll be fine. Besides, I never skip leg day!” Alex added, sounding as cheerful as he could.

The Farmer hesitantly wrapped his arms around Alex and pulled himself onto the other man's back. Alex shifted slightly to accommodate for The Farmer’s weight, gripped the underside of The Farmer’s knees, and stood up quickly. There was a sharp intake of breath from The Farmer, and Alex heard him swear under his breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked, worried he’d done something wrong. Did he accidentally hurt him?

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. I’m fine.” The Farmer mumbled. "I just didn't actually expect you to pick me up so easily." 

Alex chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm fine. You feel like you're around the same weight as what I can bench. 

"Oh." That's all The Farmer said.

Alex mentally shrugged off his worry, and then proceeded towards the basement. 'He must not be much of a talker,' he thought. 

The emergency lights lit their way, and Alex found them oddly calming now despite their earlier ominousness. As he descended the stairs and walked through the doorway marked ‘Men’s Showers,’ the air got hot and dense. The hot springs were natural, and the building simply built around it. It was mostly used by the townsfolk, but it was fairly popular with any tourists or travelers that ended up staying at Gus’ place. George had once told Alex when he was younger, that the showers had to be built so people didn’t track filth into the hot springs themselves. “They’re all natural,” George said, “So we can’t filter them like we normally do with other water.”

In the showers’ entry room, there were cubbies on the walls and a wooden bench between them. On one wall devoid of the cubbies, there was a place marked ‘USED TOWELS’ over an empty bin, next to an equally empty rack that had a sign over it reading ‘ONE TOWEL PER PERSON.’ Alex had never once seen any towels since he was a child. Everyone in town who frequented the spa either brought their own or kept some in a locker. Alex set The Farmer down on the bench and then began to strip. He didn’t think anything of it, storing his clothes in one of the empty cubbies and then wrapping the towel around his waist.

Turning to The Farmer, expecting him to be ready, Alex found The Farmer remained where Alex had left him. Unseen by Alex, The Farmer had snapped his head in the opposite direction once the man had dropped his pants. The Farmer was wide-eyed, his brains somewhat on the crispy side.

Alex tilted his head slightly, an eyebrow curiously rising. “What’s wrong?”

The Farmer didn’t answer. He glanced over, releasing a small breath when he saw Alex wasn't naked. 

To Alex, his expression looked like he was processing several hundred thoughts all at once. His mouth opened several times, but he failed to produce any words. But, given an awkward minute of silence between them, he finally managed. “I-, I think I’ll need-, need some help with, ah, with my pants.”

Alex’s gaze went immediately down to The Farmer’s ankle, and he felt a flash of embarrassment. He’d simply gone into autopilot, not used to visiting with another person. Much less a person with a likely sprained ankle. He probably should have waited to change until he had helped The Farmer into the hot springs first; a task that would be slightly more awkward when he was in nothing but a towel. 

“Oh, right.” Alex wanted to smack himself. Was that really the best response he could think of? The air between the two of them felt more awkward than ever. He had the sudden thought that maybe the man wasn't aloof, but just shy instead. Alex, having visited other gyms and practically living out of the locker room in high school, was desensitized to stripping down and changing in front of friends and acquaintances.  But the two of them weren't even acquaintances, they were practically strangers. Plus Alex assumed it was a safe bet that he had spent more time in gyms than The Farmer. 

He thought quickly, making the assumption that putting his clothes back on would just waste time, and walked over to The Farmer. “Here,” Alex knelt down at his side, turning his head away, “You can lean on me to change. It'll be easier getting your pants off if you have something to lean on.”

The Farmer was silent for a moment before saying, "Thanks…”

The Farmer placed his arm on Alex’s shoulder again. Alex respectfully looked away as The Farmer started the struggle through the task of taking his pants off with one hand. It took him so long that Alex almost offered to help. He bit his tongue, realizing the implications that might bring, especially if The Farmer was as shy as Alex assumed.

Eventually, The Farmer got all his clothes off and a towel wrapped around his waist. . They said nothing to each other as Alex helped The Farmer hobble towards the next room, the showers. They quickly walked through the showers and into the final room, the hot springs. He’d noticed The Farmer was considerably less muddy than him and probably didn’t need the showers. Plus, he didn’t think the two of them sharing a shower head would benefit the current situation. He tried to say something, explain his actions, but found it difficult to put his thoughts into actual words.

The Farmer didn’t say anything about the showers anyways, so Alex got The Farmer to take the first step into the water. Figuring he was okay now that he was in the water, Alex quickly stammered out that he was going to rinse off the mud first and dashed as naturally as he could back to the showers.

Once alone, he released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He frowned, upset at why he felt so tense around The Farmer. He hung his towel on a nearby hook and turned the handle. Thankfully it still worked, even with the electricity out, and Alex let lukewarm water wash over him and his thoughts drift.

When he had first approached The Farmer, it was out of guilt. After their initial meeting had involved the accident with Dusty, Alex had wanted to make sure the new neighbor didn’t already hate his dog. He couldn’t live with himself if he’d made a stranger into a dog-hater instead of a dog-lover. Who didn’t love dogs anyways?

But the guilt faded quickly when Alex decided that the other man didn’t hold him with much hostility. Alex often saw The Farmer during his shopping trips to Pierre's, but aside from festivals that was about the only time Alex saw him. He’d kept approaching The Farmer every time he saw the other man, but why was he doing that?

Alex put his head against the wall, frowning down at his feet. The current mood between the two of them felt like it had back during the Flower Festival. If he just left it alone, maybe it’d go away. They weren’t friends. Just neighbors.

So why did he feel as if he had to fix something?

It was probably curiosity, like everyone else in the village, that drew Alex to The Farmer. That’s the reason he wanted to be on good terms with the other man. After all, it’s not often you hear of someone suddenly moving into an abandoned farm. Who wouldn’t be curious?

Alex turned off the water once he’d washed the last of the mud from his hair. As he wrapped the towel around himself, he thought of how he should walk back into the hot springs. He racked his brain, recalling that it was around the time he’d suggested they wash off that The Farmer’s attitude had changed. Was The Farmer the type of guy to find that sort of thing awkward? Yoba if Alex knew. A month had gone by and he still didn’t know a thing about the town's newest resident.

He heard The Farmer sneeze again from the hot spring room while he was stalling for time. He debated just waiting until The Farmer called for him, but decided that it’d be worse if he didn’t go back. It was dangerous to sit in hot water for too long, what if the other man fell unconscious and drowned?

Alex forced himself to swallow his anxiety and left the showers.

The Farmer's back was to him, and he was submerged in the water all the way to his ears. Panic started to rise up in the back of Alex's throat like bile. He rushed over and was ready to dive in, already reciting cpr directions in his head, but The Farmer sat up and turned around when he heard Alex's approach. Alex paused as they locked eyes for a moment. 

The Farmer's eyes regarded Alex, looking him up and down once before turning back. His face was already flushed from the heat, and Alex figured that he would have to get out soon. The Farmer didn’t say anything, but sank slightly back into the water so it was at his chin. His towel sat folded on the ledge near the handrail, and Alex stared at it for some reason. Why was he feeling so awkward around the other man. When he looked at The Farmer, it was almost painful how their interactions were, like it was wrong for them to be this distant. 

A small chill started to work up Alex's back, despite the steam and heat, and he decided he'd stood around doing nothing for long enough. Alex dropped his own towel at the edge of the water, forgoing any time to fold it, and quickly submerged himself. His chosen spot was a respectable distance away, about two and a half feet. Not too far to look like he was purposefully ignoring The Farmer, and not to close as to raise any awkward questions.

Alex didn’t say anything. Not that he had the first idea on what he should say anyways. Maybe they could just sit in silence like this and wait for the storm to pass. This totally not awkward silence. Dear Yoba, that was a bad idea. He felt like something needed to be said. Anything needed to be said. He could cluck like a chicken and that wouldn’t be nearly as bad as this silence.

“You know,” The Farmer spoke suddenly. Alex tried his best not to jump, surprised that the other man was the one starting the conversation. “I’m a little surprised you have a locker here. You don’t seem like to type of person to lounge in hot springs.”

The Farmer was looking at him now. The directness of his gaze and the situation made a welcoming cut through the awkwardness Alex felt. He could suddenly remember how to talk like a normal human being.  “Well there is a weight room and gym upstairs. I mostly use it during the winter, but when I feel like a change of pace I sometimes come here to work out.”

“Right, you’re always saying how you wanna be a pro gridball player.”

"Yeah!” Alex felt a wash of relief. Gridball, he could talk about that. That was easy. “If I got onto a team I’d want it to be the Green Bay Twins or Tornado Sharks. They’re not my favorite teams, but they’d at least be nearby.”

“You really think you got a chance?”

Alex nodded. “I know most players are recruited out of high school and then college, but some teams hold open tryouts once a year. That just means I gotta work hard and work out every day to achieve my dream.” Alex beamed. “You should join me sometime. It’s always more fun to have a workout buddy.”

The Farmer quirked an eyebrow. “What, are you saying I look kinda flubby? ‘Cus I’ll have you know doing hard labor on a farm day after day is making me pretty buff.” The Farmer lifted his arms out of the water and flexed them, hilariously showing off his non-existent biceps.

Alex snorted. “Okay, I’ll admit they’re better when you first got here. You used to have twigs for arms, but now they’re more like saplings.”

“Right?” The Farmer smiled. “I bet I could take on a bear with these puppies.”

“I think it’s my duty as a fellow weight-lifting bro to recommend you start with something smaller. Maybe a rabbit.”

The Farmer snorted too, which quickly became laughter. It was infectious, and Alex joined in. The tension and awkwardness melted away. When another silence fell over them, it didn’t feel nearly as choking.

“Hey Alex,” The Farmer spoke up again. “I wanna thank you.”

“Thank me? Why?”

“Well, for coming to find me.”

“Oh. You don’t have to thank me for that." He backpaddled out of the compliment, suddenly feeling sheepish. "A lot of people volunteered. You mean a lot to the town. Everyone’s gotta look out for each other here and we’re both part of the valley. I was just the one lucky enough to find you.”

“Still though,” The Farmer fell silent for a minute. His expression said there was something on his mind. Something that he wanted to say. But after a small shake of his head, his eyes connected directly with Alex’s. “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex’s chest felt light, and he was aware of how flushed his face felt. He was probably just overheated from the water too. So, he ignored it and smiled back. “You’re welcome.” 

It was nearly midnight when the hurricane finally dissipated, but it took another few hours for the townsfolk to forge a path up to the spa. After warming up in the hot spring, Alex and The Farmer waited upstairs in the weight room for rescue, taking advantage of the more comfortable padded flooring. The strongest of the winds had died down a bit, but the building's frame still rattled every now and then. 

Alex initially thought that they were going to just sit around in silence again, but to his surprise, The Farmer started asking him questions about gridball. As it turned out, the man knew less than the basics when it came to the sport. Alex had to stop and explain some of the finer details and tactics, taking full offence when The Farmer implied that it was just about getting the ball from one end of the field to the other. The Farmer listened tentatively, even when Alex went off on tangents every now and then. He did most of the talking, but occasionally The Farmer chimed in with short experiences of his own in sports. Most of them were from his time in high school when he'd been 'Forced into team sports against my will,' but Alex found himself engrossed in the conversation. 

In fact, he was a little disappointed when Lewis interrupted them with a phone call to announce that they were almost there. Less than thirty minutes later, the two of them heard the front door to the spa being thrown open, and their names being called. The first one to appear in the door to the weight room was Robin. Alex had barely just helped The Farmer to his feet when she'd thrown herself at The Farmer and pulled him into a bear hug. Given that The Farmer was leaning against Alex to stand, he was also pulled into the tear-filled hug.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Robin cried. “I was so worried.”

The Farmer patted her back with his one free hand. “It’s fine Robin. Alex made sure to take care of me.”

Robin pulled away, wiping a tear from her eye. "Then I'll have to thank you Alex,” she said.

“Ah, I-,” Alex stammered, still feeling a little awkward from the sudden hug. “You’re welcome?”

Several more people entered, but unlike Robin, they didn’t throw themselves at The Farmer. A multitude of questions about their well-being were repeated until Harvey pushed himself to the front of the group and instructed Alex too bring The Farmer to one of the benches.  He needed to conduct a proper examination and told everyone they needed to get out. Alex still hung around in the background, becoming a wallflower just in case he was needed. However, during the examination The Farmer had an unexpected visitor.

“Meow!”

“Saber?” The cat charged across the weight room floor and leapt into The Farmer’s lap, rubbing his head affectionately into his human’s stomach. “What in the world are you doing here?”

“Meow!”

At that moment, Marnie rushed into the room. She was slightly out of breath, and her worried expression fell off her face when she saw Saber in The Farmer’s lap. “Oh good,” she said. “I was afraid he’d try and explore and fall into one of the baths.”

Saber’s affections didn’t stop, and the cat tried crawling up The Farmer’s chest. He nuzzled his head against The Farmer’s body, purring happily. Marnie quickly explained how they found him alone when they were searching for him. “When the storm broke and we mentioned your name, he followed us out of the saloon,” she said. “You’ve got a very loyal cat on your hands.”

Saber had now climbed up The Farmer’s chest and wrapped himself around The Farmer’s shoulders. He looked more like a scarf than a cat, purring louder than before. “He’s a little out of my hands now,” The Farmer joked, giving Saber a scratch under his chin. “I’m sure he was just worried about losing his source of food. Isn’t that right big guy?”

“Meow?”

Harvey coughed politely. “Well your ankle is definitely sprained. It doesn’t seem broken or fractured, so you should count yourself lucky. Linus was wailing about how you got caught in a landslide. Those can be fatal accidents.”

“Well Linus overexaggerates. I just lost my footing walking home, that’s all.”

“Regardless, I’ll need to put a brace on it and you’ll have to stay off it for a minimum of two weeks. There are some crutches back at my clinic-”

“Harvey!” Lewis burst in behind Marnie. His phone was up to his ear. “I just got a call from the mayor of the next town over. Their doctor got hurt pretty badly and they’re requesting yours and Maru's assistance. There was some damage to the highway and it’ll be a few hours before an ambulance can reach them or us. But it looks like there’s minimal damage to the roads between our two towns. If I drive you over, we can be there in twenty minutes.”

Harvey sighed lightly. The Farmer noticed that the doctor had bags under his eyes, and his weary expression was only hidden behind the glasses and mustache. Maybe that’s why he hadn’t shaved it off. “Alright, but I need to see to The Farmer first.”

“It’s alright,” The Farmer objected, earning him one of Harvey’s disapproving looks. “A sprain isn’t too serious, right? I’ll keep some ice on it tonight, and you can put the brace on tomorrow. I’m Pelican Town’s only casualty, right? If they need you somewhere else, then you shouldn’t prioritize me.”

“I can carry him home too,” Alex jumped in and offered. "That way you don't have to waste the time getting the crutches and coming back here." He felt The Farmer's surprised look fall on him, but the man didn't raise an objection to Alex's offer.

After a moment of mental deliberation, Harvey sighed again. “Alright. Lewis, tell him we’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“Right!” Lewis spoke back into his phone and left, followed out of the building by Marnie and the doctor. The remaining part of the rescue team began to take off after that. A few more questions and offers to help were answered, but eventually only Alex and The Farmer remained.

Alex grabbed his green varsity jacket from his locker and offered it to The Farmer. “Here, it’s cold out.”

“But what about you?”

Alex waved off the question. “I’ll be fine. Besides, you’re the one with the injury. Wouldn’t want you catching a cold as well.”

The Farmer looked hesitant and that he was about to object, but then he sneezed. Alex cracked a grin while The Farmer took his jacket begrudgingly with a blush on his face. The man set Saber on the ground, much to the cat’s displeasure, and pulled the jacket on. Meanwhile, Alex got into position to carry The Farmer on his back again. This time, The Farmer didn’t protest. After Alex made some adjustments to his grip on The Farmer's legs, the two walked out, followed by Saber.

The walk back to The Farmer’s place was quiet. Alex had opted to take the path that led directly from Robin’s to the farm, instead of going back through town. He was tired and didn’t want to be held up by answering more questions from anyone they might run into on the way. He assumed from the look on The Farmer's face before they left that he felt the same way. The Farmer’s hands gripped each other loosely around Alex’s shoulders, and he could feel The Farmer’s breath against the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry," The Farmer blurted out.

Alex didn’t stop walking. He did shift The Farmer’s weight on his back slightly. “I told you, it’s fine. You couldn’t have made the trip anyways.”

“No, not this. I...” The Farmer sighed, long and loud. “I want to apologize for the way I acted back during the Flower Festival. You were just trying to talk to me and I gave you the cold shoulder for a dumb reason. You've been nothing but nice to me, and I keep shutting you out for no reason.”

“Oh,” Alex’s memories of the festival came up in his mind for the second time that night. Apparently The Farmer was also thinking about that day. “So, I did upset you. I'm sorry.”

“You don’t even know why I was upset.”

“Well that is true,” he admitted. “But I still upset you, right? So, I should apologize.”

The Farmer huffed, mumbling under his breath. “You’re making this difficult.”

“What?”

There was silence from The Farmer. And then, quietly he said, “I’m gay.”

This time, Alex faltered in his step. He felt The Farmer go very tense on his back, bracing himself for something. Quickly, Alex resumed walking, continuing on as normal. Many times that night he had felt that the situation required him to say something, and now that feeling was magnified tenfold. This time, it felt as if the entire mountain stood silent, waiting for his response. Alex fell back on his memories, suddenly recalling what he had said. “Oh, so that thing I said about girls dancing with you then…”

“And that thing about Haley.”

“Oh yeah. That.”

“Yeah, aren’t you two friends? That’s a kinda shitty thing to say about her.”

Alex winced, frowning to himself. “I was trying to think of a conversation topic, and well, typical male bonding seemed like the right path?” The more the words came out of his mouth, the less sure he felt about them. A pathetic excuse that couldn’t stand up to a light breeze.

“Male bonding is overrated.” The Farmer mumbled. Then he sighed. “I should have said something back then though. And then I kinda overreacted. That’s why I wanted to apologize.” The Farmer let the words hang in the air, like he wanted to say something more. Alex could feel the tension slowly go out of The Farmer’s body. His chest was pressed to Alex’s back, and he could feel The Farmer’s heart pounding quickly. Figuring now was best time to keep quiet, Alex let The Farmer continue. “It was unfair to you. I haven’t told anyone else in the valley that I’m gay, so it's not like anyone would have gone around spreading rumors already.”

“You know, I don’t think anyone here is the type to start rumors like that.” Alex offered. “We are a small town, but we all look out for each other here.”

“Yeah. Everyone’s been really nice. It honestly fells like you all are saints compared to the people I used to know.” The Farmer's voice went soft. “You know, one of the reasons I felt like leaving the city was because there were just, too many people. Too many different ideals and everyone was always butting heads with each other. You spend a lot of time yelling and arguing about the best way to live your life, that you end up too exhausted to do anything. So, I decided to run away and bunker down in my grandpa’s rundown cottage. I figured a life of solitude was better than whatever I was suffering through before.”

“Well you failed that last part spectacularly,” Alex said. “You should have seen my grandpa. He hates everyone, but when they were asking for volunteers to look for you, I could have sworn he was about to leap out of his wheelchair and lead the search.”

“I’m glad he didn’t. Can you imagine what would happen if I started to cure the crippled? There’d be squatters in my fields, I’d never grow another crop, and people would terrorize my animals by praising them as deities or some shit.”

Alex laughed. “I guess you dodged a bullet there.” He paused and then added, “Say, what are you going to do about your crops? Won’t it be hard with a sprained ankle?”

“I’ll manage somehow. But first I gotta see what survived the storm. I’m probably gonna have to work on clearing the fields again. I wonder if the chicken coop Robin started on is still standing.” At this point, Alex realized The Farmer was talking more to himself than to him.

He let The Farmer continue for a few moments until he got an idea. “Hey,” he interrupted The Farmer’s rambling. “What would you say about me coming over to help?”

“You...What?”

“I can come over and help,” Alex repeated. “At least until your leg is better.”

“Alex, I can’t really afford to pay you-”

“You don’t have to. I’ll think of it as a new workout routine. You said so yourself, hard labor on a farm every day gets you pretty buff, right?”

The Farmer deliberated in silence before letting out a resigned sigh. “I guess I’m not in a position to decline, am I? But are you really sure? Farm life starts before sunrise and finishes after sunset. It’s a lotta work, especially if you’re not used to it.”

“I’m a man of my word. I’ll be there at the crack of dawn!”

The Farmer smiled into Alex’s back. He lightly bumped his hands into Alex’s chest. “Okay mister, but I said before sunrise. That means before the crack of dawn. I won’t tolerate any tardiness.”

Alex laughed. “Alright boss.”

By now, Alex had reached the part of the path where it opened out to the farm. Clouds still covered most of the sky, obscuring the moon from view. To Alex, it was hard to see just how much damage the storm had done. But if The Farmer’s extended sigh was any indication, it was pretty bad.

“You can put me down here,” The Farmer said once Alex had climbed the front steps.

"Are you sure? I don't mind bringing you to bed." Alex offered. 

"No, here's fine." The Farmer said quickly.

Alex shrugged, and then knelt down to let The Farmer disembarked. He favored his left foot, leaning against the cottage. When the two faced each other again, there was silence. Alex could feel just how cold the night was now that The Farmer’s body heat wasn’t seeping into his back. In what little moonlight there was, he could barely make out The Farmer’s expression. But Alex could tell he was reluctant to make eye contact.

“So,” The Farmer said, “You don’t find it strange or weird at all?”

“Do I find what strange?”

“That I’m gay.”

Alex shrugged and shoved his hands in his pockets. It was always a topic that had come up in school and he’d hear about on tv sometimes. But he’d never really given sexuality much thought before. “No. I mean, everyone here is different, but even when those differences clash, we can all still get along at the end of the day.” Then he added with as big a smile as he could, “Besides, I honestly had a really great time talking with you. Do you really think I'd give up a new friendship just cus you're into dudes?”

The Farmer looked at him a moment longer, and it was hard for Alex to read his expression. “I need to apologize for something else." The Farmer broke eye contact, eyes shifting down. "I honestly thought you were nothing more than the typical, arrogant, homophobic jock with nothing but girls and gridball on his mind.”

“Well I’m sorry to be such a disappointment to you, but I’m into other sports too.”

In the darkness, Alex noticed the corner of The Farmer’s mouth tug up into a smile.

“Meow!”

Both men looked down. Saber stood between them, digging his front claws into the wood of the front door. The Farmer knelt down, scratching the cat between his ears. “Oh, what do you want?”

Alex also knelt down, brushing has hand down the cat’s back. “Maybe he’s hungry?”

The Farmer snorted. “Probably. Let me formally introduce you to your laziest coworker Alex. This is Saber, my official rat and crow catcher. So far he’s caught zero rats and half a crow.”

“Half?” Alex questioned.

“Yeah. Dropped it at my feet when I was making breakfast one morning. But the bird was only playing dead. The second Saber dropped it, it started screaming and flying around the cottage. Probably the second worst morning I’ve had since I moved here.”

“What’s the worst?”

The Farmer frowned. “Maybe I’ll tell you another time. Not a pleasant memory. Involves a gremlin from JojaMart and a scarecrow I’ve since burned.”

Saber mewled pathetically. He’d given up on scratching the front door and instead rolled onto his back.

“You know,” Alex said, rubbing Saber’s stomach, “I’m more of a dog person, but he’s pretty cute.”

“Yeah, it’s about the only thing he’s got going for him,” The Farmer said. “I once saw two rats drink from his water dish and the lazy bastard just watched them.”

“Meow?”

“Yes you. My fat, lazy, handsome little boy, you.” The Farmer picked up Saber, who protested with a meow, and kissed the top of the cat's head. Saber gave a small growl, but remained complacent as The Farmer held him. “He may be useless, but I wouldn’t trade him for anything. Even a cure to my pest problem.”

A yawn escaped from Alex, and while he felt suddenly embarrassed about it, The Farmer smiled at him. “Well I guess that means we should probably part ways now.” He looked down at himself, as if he suddenly remembered that he was wearing Alex's spare gym clothes and jacket. "Oh shoot, give me a minute and I'll change out of them.”

Alex waved off the question, descending the front steps. “I’ll pick them up in the morning. But if they’re covered in cat hair tomorrow, I don’t want them. Dusty has a jealousy problem.”

“Well I guess that means I just got a free set of workout clothes,” The Farmer called after him.

Alex just waved goodbye, turning his back and leaving the farm. When he passed the broken-down bus, the wind picked up again. The chill reminded him that he was only wearing a tank top. He shoved his hands back in his pockets, fingers brushing against the damp fabric of the bandana he forgot to give back. 'Oh well, I'll just give it to him tomorrow,' Alex thought.

Back on the Farm, The Farmer was inside, sitting on the floor. His back was to the cottage’s door, and his knees pulled up to his chest. Alex’s jacket was pulled tightly around himself in an attempt to be as small as possible. Saber paced around him, worried meows about his human as a constant noise.

The Farmer ignored him. His heartbeat raced, and his face felt flushed. He couldn't control his thoughts, as they now were driven mad with desire. This was just a crush, just a dumb, stupid crush. He'd gotten over crushes on straight men before, and he'd do it again. This one might take a little extra effort however, now that he’d need the other man in all his naked glory. Granted, The Farmer was respectful enough kept his eyes from traveling too far south, but from what he did see, Alex certainly checked off a lot of boxes for him physically speaking. 

To make everything worse, Alex was now a very much real person involved in his life. He was no longer a personality-less acquaintance. Alex was someone he'd formed a real connection with tonight, a friend that he was opening up to. He knew he'd make a mistake the second he started asking Alex all those questions about gridball. And why the hell had he chosen that moment to come out to Alex?

But he wouldn't lie to himself. He knew why he did it. Despite telling Alex that he wanted a life of solitude when he moved out here, he was happy to have formed the connection. Alex didn’t seem like the type of person to gossip, and now The Farmer wouldn't need to constantly keep his guard up around him—like how he did with people he called his friends. Like he did with Penny.

His mind was now spinning with endless ‘What if?’ scenarios. Replaying tonight's events over and over, imagining different outcomes. The most dangerous one, the most constant one, the one he wanted to stop the most, rang out the loudest in his head.

'What if Alex reciprocated my feeling?'

He pulled the jacket tighter around himself, hypocritically trying to drown out his thoughts. Under the jackets overpowering stench of spray-on deodorant, he could smell bacon and maple.

The image of Alex making breakfast in his kitchen crossed his mind.

'Please. Stop,' he pleaded with his own mind. 'This is just a stupid crush.'

He imagined Alex pulling him close and into the shade of a blossoming apple tree. He pressed soft kisses against The Farmer’s forehead. His voice whispering sweet nothings into The Farmer’s ear.

'Stop. I can’t do this to myself. I can’t deal with this.'

Then, he saw Alex was in his bed. The light dappled into his golden-brown hair. Mouth parted slightly, and eyes closed as he slept soundly through the morning. His fingers were intertwined with The Farmer’s in a gentle grip.

Tears started to form in The Farmer's eyes. 

'I don’t want to get hurt.'

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 10

The Farmer wasn't sure if he had actually slept last night. His brain felt like it was made of runny scrambled eggs and burnt toast. He'd drifted in and out of consciousness for hours with thoughts of the gridball fanatic plaguing his mind, accepting and denying his crush on Alex.  Add in the stress that came with his injury last night, and The Farmer had become a cocktail of pain and insomnia.  His ankle felt like it had a bear was gnawing on it, and moving even a slightly magnified the pain.  So here he lay, willing himself to go back fall asleep, refusing to look at his phone and acknowledge how much sleep he'd lost. 

When the first streams of sunlight poured into the room through the window, there was a knocking at the front door. “Hey farm boy! Are you awake?”

Alex’s voice both hurt his ears and sped up The Farmer’s heartbeat. 'Shit,' The Farmer thought to himself, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over his face. 'Maybe I shouldn’t have told him to come over so early.'

Alex knocked again, and The Farmer could hear the front door swing open. “Hello?”

“In here.” The Farmer called, removing the pillow and forcing himself to a sitting position.

After a few seconds, the bedroom door swung open, breathing in some of the cool morning air. Alex walked in, showing no hesitation upon entering what was basically a stranger's bedroom. He carried a bundle of clothing in his arms, and then his eyes fell on The Farmer. “Wow, you look like shit.”

“Thanks,” The Farmer grumbled. “That is exactly what everyone wants to hear when they wake up.”

Alex grinned at him, undeterred. “I thought a farmer’s job started before sunrise. What happened? Did you have a rough night?”

The Farmer returned the grin with a glare. How anyone could be joking around this early in the morning was beyond him. He elected to ignore the jab and nodded at the clothing, “What are those?”

“Oh, these are yours. I went back to the Spa last night to get them, and then asked my grandma to put them through the washer and dryer with mine.”

“A washer and dryer? Sounds luxurious.”

“Not really,” Alex shrugged and looked around, peering his head back out into the main room of the cottage. “Say, how do you do laundry anyways?”

“You mean you didn’t see the river running through the middle of my farm? Or the clothesline behind the cottage?” The Farmer’s brow came together. “Although I don’t actually know if the line's still there after the storm…”

“Wait, are you serious?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Talk about living off the land,” Alex whistled. He shoved his hands into his jean pockets, his eyes scanning the room. The Farmer stared at Alex, waiting for him to leave. Alex’s eyes met The Farmers eventually. “Oh, right! Sorry,” Alex piped up. “Where do you keep your clothes?”  

The Farmer raised an eyebrow. “In the storage chest. Why?”

The room was still mostly bare. Despite having lived here for a month already, The Farmer still had very few belongings, so Alex spotted the small trunk at the foot of his bed instantly. Aside from the chair and table in the main room, purchased from Robin a few weeks back, it was pretty much the only piece of furniture The Farmer owned; in fact, it was actually something he made himself. When Robin helped transport the table and chair down to the farm and discovered that The Farmer was still using his cardboard boxes from moving in as a dresser, she stopped by the next day with a set of basic tools, nails, and hinges for him and taught him how to construct a simple chest. 

It was crude looking and basic, but The Farmer was still proud of it. There was just something satisfying about seeing and using an object that you constructed with your own hands. He was now constantly daydreaming about what other things he could make that would help him with his budget or spruce the place up a bit, but so far the only thing he had time to make was a stand for the tube TV in the main room. 

Alex meanwhile, walked over to the chest and opened it. He dropped the clothes into and then rummaged through it before The Farmer could to object to the sudden invasion of privacy. Alex then pulled out a shirt at random, which just so happened to have a pair of underwear stuck to the back of it. He looked over the shirt towards The Farmer, “Is anything alright?” 

He didn’t get a response. Instead, he got a face-full of pillow with a surprising amount of force behind it. The blow caused him to drop the clothing back into the chest. 

“What do you think you’re doing!?” The Farmer’s voice cracked and his face flushed. He scrambled across his bed, ignoring the pain in his foot, and slammed the top of the chest closed. “Do you just go through other people’s clothes for the heck of it?”

Alex ripped the pillow from his face, looking annoyed. “What the hell man? Don’t you need help changing again?”

“No!” With everything he had put himself through last night, the last thing The Farmer wanted to do was have Alex handling his unmentionables. That was not an image he needed to add to the mess already swirling in his mind. “I can dress myself just fine. Just go out and wait on the porch.”

“Alright, alright.” Alex stood, his hand raised defensively and warily eyeing the second pillow still on the bed.

He left, and The Farmer fell back into his bed with a heavy sigh. His heartbeat pounded against his eardrums and his body ached. 'It’s too early for me to deal with any of this.'

Just then, his phone buzzed. He chose to ignore it, electing to remain face down in his bedding for several more minutes until it buzzed several more times. He picked it up and rolled his eyes after reading the rapid-fire messages from his mother. 'Speaking of things it's too early to deal with...'

MOM: I just saw the news! Are you okay?!

MOM: Why aren't you answering me?

MOM: If you don't reply in the next minute I am driving down.

MOM: I'll be there in a few hours.

Quickly, The Farmer typed out a response. He did not want to deal with his mother fussing over him while trying to squash whatever juvenile feelings he was apparently developing for Alex at the same time. He didn't even want to imagine the earful he'd get if she found out about his injury. 

FARM LIFE: I'm fine mom. 

MOM: Thank Yoba. Do you know how worried I was? 

FARM LIFE: Sorry. Service got knocked out by the storm for a while.

The Farmer sighed and dropped the phone back onto the bed. He could tell it was going to be a long day. 

After a brief struggle to change his clothes, The Farmer limped out onto the porch holding Alex’s jacket. Alex was sitting on the front step hugging himself and rubbing his hands up and down in attempt to keep warm. A small and selfish part of him wanted to keep the jacket for the usual cliché reasons. But then Alex looked up at him, and The Farmer instantly dropped the jacket over Alex’s face to hide his own blush.

'Curse Yoba for giving him eyes you could drown in,' he thought.

Alex pulled his jacket off his face with a huff. “Wow, someone’s cranky in the mornings.”

The Farmer rolled his eyes. Maybe he should keep this attitude up. It would be good insurance to make sure Alex never found out about his crush. “It’s still cold in the mornings,” he said.  “I figured you might want something heavier to wear until it gets warmer.”

“And you gave me my jacket? How thoughtful.” Alex sounded like he always did, playfully joking around and not taking any offence. He yawned as he pulled on his jacket. “I don’t know how you do this every day. I felt fine on the walk over here, but now I think I’m starting to crash.”

The Farmer shrugged. “You get used to it. Just don’t pass out in my fields before you correct your sleep schedule.”

“Yes sir!” Alex laughed, then looked down to The Farmer’s ankle. The Farmer was leaning against the doorframe, favoring his injured foot. “Speaking of your fields, what are you going to do until Harvey gets here? Surely you can’t walk on that.”

“I’m gonna supervise, of course. You can start by clearing any debris the storm blew in. Once Harvey gets here, we’ll take stock of what I can save and what I have to turn to compost.”

Alex stood and gave The Farmer a joking salute. “You got it, boss!” He leapt off the porch and started picking up the nearest branches. 

The Farmer settled into a comfortable spot on the porch and started calling out directions whenever the other man looked lost. After just a while, The Farmer was glad that he hadn't fought Alex's offer to help.  Now that he could finally see the farm in the light of day, he realized there was a lot of work to be done. It was a little disheartening to see that the damage to the farm was this severe. The small patch of melons he had been growing was now non-existent; most, if not all had been blown across the farm as if they were water balloons. He was able to spot them here and there, now broken open or impaled on rocks and tree branches.

There was one melon in particular that had several stakes from his now destroyed fence sprouting from it. Alex found it so amazing that he had to carry over for The Farmer to see. He made a remark about the strange beauty storms can do, but The Farmer disagreed. “I think it’s more like the storm was saying ‘Fuck this melon in particular.’”

Alex laughed at that, and The Farmer had to avert his gaze. The man radiated sunshine when he smiled. It was annoying how his gut back flipped around Alex. 

Well, almost annoying. 

Alex picked up the work easily, and before long, two hours passed them by. The sun had risen higher into the sky and the air finally reached a comfortable heat, causing Alex to shed his jacket and leave it on the porch. He was wearing just a plain black t-shirt underneath, but it accented his natural looks. The man was just too damn handsome, and it was entirely unfair. 

After Alex had no longer required directions, The Farmer found it a little awkward to just watch the other man work the fields. So he hobbled back into the house to dig out a notebook and pen. He intended to scribble out ideas for replanting his fields, crunch some numbers on how to recover revenue from the lost crops, but his insomnia from last night was catching up with him. His eyelids grew heavy, and he kept snapping up quickly whenever he realized he was slouching into a more comfortable position. Eventually, he cast his weary eyes out to the fields where Alex worked the day away. Watching the other man made him feel even more tired, and so after some quick but sluggish mental gymnastics to justify his own actions, The Farmer put the pen and paper aside and leaned back on the deck. He closed his eyes, and figured a quick nap wouldn't hurt.

"Hey, beautiful." 

The Farmer's eyes snapped open. Alex was standing over him, a smug grin on his face. The Farmer felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he stammered. He sat up quickly, looking away as he said, "W-What did you say?" 

"I said I did realize I was working for Sleeping Beauty." Alex snickered. "I guess you must be pretty tired still." 

The Farmer hastily checked his phone, shocked to realize that he hadn't closed his eyes for a few seconds, but instead had sleep well into the afternoon. "Sorry," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you." 

Alex playfully nudged The Farmer, "Nah it's cool, dude. You're the one with a sprained foot. I say be as lazy as you want. But before you go back to sleep, can I use your bathroom?" 

"Y-Yeah, of course. It's inside," he gestured over his shoulder and into the house, still not meeting Alex's eyes. "Door next to the bedroom." 

"Thanks!" Alex disappeared into cottage.

The Farmer sighed, falling onto his back again and staring up at the crystal blue, cloudless sky.  Before today, he never thought he'd be envious of a fruit, but his interactions with Alex would not stop playing repeatedly in his head and he'd give anything to change places with one of the destroyed melons right now. How in Yoba's name, was he supposed to keep this up for an entire summer? 

“Hey Farmer!” A voice called out. He looked up, surprised to find Robin waving at him from the dirt path at the edge of the farm. She was accompanied by Harvey, and both of them were carrying what looked like a foot brace and a pair of crutches. 

The Farmer sat up and waved back, a little surprised. “Hey yourself,” he said once she and Harvey approached the porch. “What are you doing here?”

“Harvey just finished having a late brunch at our place," Robin explained. "He and Maru only just got back into town and Maru was practically dead on her feet, so we sent her to bed and I volunteered to help instead.”

“How is your ankle feeling?” Harvey asked. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes even more pronounced than last night.  He leaned the set of crutches he was carrying up against the porch. “Is it any worse than last night?”

“Not particularly." The Farmer said, "Just, you know, shooting pains whenever I try and put weight on it.”

Harvey knelt down. “Can you roll your pants leg up? You’ll feel some pain as I put the brace on, but it’ll feel better once the pressure is applied.” The Farmer did as he asked, and Harvey began to gingerly slide the brace into place. 

"Hey farm boy!" Alex's voice made The Farmer jump. He'd forgotten that Alex was in his house, and when he turned around, he was even more surprised to find Alex had stripped off his shirt. Alex paused, looking only a little awkward as he gave a quick smile to Robin and Harvey, before turning back to The Farmer. "Do you have any sunscreen? I was washing my hands and realized my skin is starting to get a little burnt." 

The Farmer only heard about half of the words that Alex said, too distracted by all extra skin and muscle that had suddenly appeared. Seeing it last night was one thing, but dear Yoba, seeing Alex shirtless in the daylight really drove home the fact that he like to work out. He wasn't unrealistically chiseled or sculpted like a Mollywood celebrity or movie stars that went on crash diets and impossible weight loss routines. He did have more muscles than the average joe, and The Farmer felt himself loosing brain function the longer he stared. His mouth opened and closed, and he was terrified to think of how long he'd been openly checking out Alex. 

"U-under the sink." The Farmer said quickly once he'd managed to turn his back. Harvey didn't seem to notice, but The Farmer was a little uncomfortable with the quick glance Robin made between himself and Alex. Surely that hadn't been enough for her to sus him out.

"Thanks!" Alex returned inside the house, oblivious to the effect of his own actions.

“Well, we're all done." Harvey said shortly, standing up after the brace was firmly locked in place. "Come see me every Monday and I’ll check on how the healing is progressing. Stay off of it, and try to keep the brace on at all times, but you can take it off when you shower or bathe. Now if you excuse me, I'm running on fumes and coffee and need to crash in my own bed."

“Thanks doc!” Robin said cheerfully and waived him off.

"Y-yeah, thanks!" The Farmer called after him, glancing over at Robin. His heartbeat pounded against his eardrum. He was dying to know exactly thoughts were on her mind.

“I hope he gets some proper sleep.” Robin continued to watch Harvey as the doctor left the farm. “I swear to Yoba, those two were sleepwalking when they came through the front door.” She turned to The Farmer, and he tried to not jump, “And now back to business.”

“What business?”

“Well, I needed to talk to you about the chicken coop you ordered.”

“Oh right,” The Farmer looked back over his farm, trying to calm himself through sheer force of will. The change in topic was something he gladly latched onto. “You know, I don’t even remember where you had started setting up.”

“I think it was somewhere,” Robin paused. She looked over the field before tentatively raising a hand and pointing at a random part of the field. "Somewhere around there?” She gave him a sheepish grin. “Anyways, I’ve come to tell you that I’m going to have to put that project off for a few days. Mayor needs my help repairing some of the homes in town and those will take priority.”

“That’s fine. It’s gonna take a few days to clear out my fields anyways.”

"Well, I left a few tools here when I was doing my set-up before the hurricane hit. I also came by because I needed to pick them up. Do you mind if I look around?”

“Go ahead,” The Farmer gestured out the field, and Robin walked off with a simple grin. Left alone with his thoughts again, The Farmer watched her as his mind began to race. Did she not find the fact that Alex had been shirtless and in his house suspicious at all? She had been one of the last ones at the spa to leave last night, so the fact that she didn't question Alex's presence here must have meant that she'd overheard his offer to help. Maybe it was just a normal thing for guys to hang out with their shirts off. If it was, The Farmer wouldn't know. It's not like he made it a habit to hang out with packs of straight guys to learn their ways.

"So what's next on the to-do list?" Alex's voice surprised The Farmer for the second time that day as he reemerged from the house.

Hesitantly, The Farmer turned around, and breathed a sigh of relief that Alex has put his shirt back on. He stood up, happy to find that the brace did wonders for his ankle, and grabbed the crutches. “Now that you've cleared out most of the debris, I want to check on my crops.” He really should have kept resting his foot, but he needed an excuse to get his mind to focus on literally anything else. 

It was obvious that his melon patch had to be completely uprooted. The only one that was even slightly salvageable had a hammer embedded in it. When they presented it to Robin, she laughed and confirmed it was hers. Most of the tomatoes and peppers would unfortunately have to join the melon patch. By a stroke of sheer, dumb luck, his blueberry bushes and most of the corn had managed to survive. Sure, most of them would need stilts to keep standing tall, but after showing Alex the best way to tie up the plants, the man settled into a rhythm. The Farmer noticed that Alex would hum to himself, keeping a small smile on his face all throughout the work.

After an hour, Robin had recovered her tools and had left, but not before using some of the broken fencing to set up a makeshift compost bin for them. At least he wouldn't need to spend any money on fertilizer for a while, so there was at least one silver lining to the storm destroying half of his crops. Shortly after Robin left, The Farmer retreated to his cottage, citing his injured foot to Alex. He almost resumed his post on the porch, but his stomach grumbled in anger at him, reminding him that he hadn't eaten a bite since last night. He glanced back at Alex, wondering if the man had eaten yet. He hobbled inside and opened the fridge, taking stock of what he even had that they could eat. What did Alex even like to eat anyways?

The Farmer glanced out the nearby window to watch Alex work on saving the last of the corn. Soon there wouldn’t have anything else to do. That meant Alex would most likely come find him and start doing stupid things like starting a conversation and forming a connection. After the incident on the porch, The Farmer couldn't get the image of a shirtless Alex out of his mind. He felt it might be difficult to hold a proper conversation with a man while imagining him half-naked. He'd have to keep everything strictly business when they talked and try to keep his sarcastic remarks to a minimum; they were apparently very effective at making Alex laugh. Distracting the man with food might be a good idea, but for his own peace of mind, he would have to come up with work that would send Alex to the other side of the farm.

“Meow?”

The Farmer tore his eyes away from the window. Saber was rubbing his head against The Farmer's brace, head pushing toward the open fridge like he was looking for something to eat. The Farmer gently nudged his fat cat away. “No, there's nothing in here for you. You have a delicious bowl of dry food on the floor.”

Saber's tail swished through the air, glancing up at his human before leaping onto the countertop and yawning. The Farmer glared at his cat before pulling a loaf of sliced bread, peanut butter, and jelly out of the fridge. He put them down on the counter to start assembling some sandwiches, but Saber took an interest in the bread and kept trying to steal a bit. The Farmer moved to scoop his cat off the counter, but Saber outmaneuvered him, leaping over his arms and making his onto the windowsill. The cat observed looked outside to Alex for a moment, and then turned towards The Farmer. Saber closed his eyes as he started grooming himself.

Embarrassment filled The Farmer for a few reasons. One, because it felt like his cat was judging him. Two, because he was acting childish and assuming his cat could judge him. Three, because he knew he was going to justify himself to the cat. “Don’t give me that sass young man, or I’ll revoke your wet food privileges.”

Saber’s ear twitched, but he continued to groom himself.

'Damnit, he knows I wouldn't,' The Farmer thought to himself. “Fine, so what if I’m trying to avoid him? I just, I…” The Farmer sighed. “I just don’t feel like last night actually happened, you know?  I told Alex that I’m gay, and I expected him to—look, I don’t know what I was expecting. But he’s acting like nothing even happened!”

The Farmer gestured to the window. “He’s the perfect worker. Doesn't complains, does whatever I tell him to, and hums that catchy song when he works. And Look at him!” The Farmer looked outside, but then realized Alex wasn’t kneeling in front of the corn anymore.

“Hey farm boy!”

The Farmer whirled, his heart throwing itself violently against his ribcage. Alex was standing in the open door of the cottage, which The Farmer realized he'd stupidly left wide open. How much had he heard? How much did knowing The Farmer talked to his cat affect Alex’s opinion of him?

“I’m all done with the corn.” Alex said. “What else needs to be done?”

The Farmer grabbed the plate with the sandwiches off the counter and hobbled to Alex. “Actually, that’ll be all for today. Here,” he shoved the plate in the other man's face. “You must be hungry.”

“Thank Yoba, I’m starved.” Alex picked up one sandwich, and The Farmer watched in horrid fascination as he managed to finish it in three bites. “This is delicious. What is it?”

“...Peanut butter and jelly.”

“Hm, maybe it just tastes better after that that hard work.” As Alex worked through the second and third in only a couple of bites, The Farmer couldn’t help but wonder if Alex even had a gag refl-

“Meow!”

Saber leapt off the windowsill and landed on The Farmer’s feet before charging out of the cottage. The Farmer swore, stumbling backwards from the surprise and feeling himself fall. Alex's eyes went wide, reaching out to grab The Farmer's hand, but it was too late. The inertia caused the two men stumbled to the floor.  The Farmer closed his eyes, feeling Alex's hand move to the back of his head to protect it.

The shattering of the plate filled the air, and then silence. They lay there for just a moment, body against body, and The Farmer hated that he hated it when Alex pulled himself up and off The Farmer.

"Are you okay?" Alex asked, carefully removing his hand. 

The Farmer opened his eyes, going breathless when he found Alex's face only inches from his own. His brain was making the dial tone that a phone did when it got left off the hook for too long. There was concern in Alex's eyes, and peanut butter at the corner of his lips. 

The Farmer nodded, not trusting himself to speak. 

Alex pulled himself up, and then offered his hand to The Farmer. When they both were standing again, Alex frowned and looked out the door. “What got into Saber? I thought I saw a flash of red by the door.”

Outside the window, The Farmer noticed Saber chasing a red Junimo past his point of view. “Oh, you know, cats get those crazies every once in a while.”

“I’ve never had a cat. Only Dusty, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen him with puppy energy." Alex looked down at the broken plate. "Here, you sit down, I'll clean this up." 

“Are you sure?”

Alex waved off The Farmers concern, and after a little objection, The Farmer found himself sitting at the small table. He did not own a broom yet, so Alex was carefully picking the biggest pieces off the floor, and then used a damp paper towel to wipe the floor off. His arms flexed as he cleaned. The Farmer was watching him, but then jumped in the chair slightly when Alex looked up. The Farmer looked away quickly, mentally chastising himself for ogling Alex for the third time in a single day.

"So is that really everything?" Alex asked, depositing the paper towel in the waste bin. "I thought you said this was an all day job."

“Normally, yes. It’d take me all morning to water and weed the crops, but the storm kind of took care of that for me. The only other errands I'd really have was buys seeds from Pierre's and clearing out the rest of the fields. I don't have the manpower to measure up to my grandfather's farm in its prime, but it'd be nice to have some more space ready for when I do.”

“Wait, that’s area I worked in isn't the whole field?”

“Not even close. My grandfather farmed on almost three hundred acres.”

“How much is an acre?”

“Roughly a few yards shorter than a gridball field.”

Alex snorted in surprise. "What? There’s no way there’s that much land out there. That’s gotta be at least seven Pelican Towns.”

“Not all of it’s here in town. I think this farm’s roughly four acres, at the very least. Most of the land he worked were those fields along the highway out of town.”

“So wait, you own all that now?”

The Farmer pushed himself out of the chair and hobbled over to the kitchen cabinets. There weren't nearly enough dishes to fill all of the cabinets, so he'd taken to using some of them as storage instead. He pulled a binder out one of the binders he'd thrown together. “Not quite. Most of the land was rented to my grandfather, and he was a part of a larger group of farms that worked together. Since my mom didn’t want to continue his business, anything that he didn’t actually own in Pelican Town was rented or sold to other farmers when he died. I think most of it is either developed or overgrown though. ”

The Farmer flipped the binder open when he returned to the table. He pulled a small map of Pelican Town out of the front flap and spread it out. There was a part of the map sectioned off by blue Sharpie. The Farmer pointed at it, “This is the land I inherited from my grandfather. And this,” The Farmer traced a small outline with his finger within the rectangle, “Is the land I’ve cleared so far.”

“And you wanna clear all of that?” Alex’s voice was incredulous and he looked at The Farmer as if the man had just said the sky was green. “There’s no way a single person would be able to work that much land. You’re way too ambitious or just plain crazy.”

The Farmer sighed. “At this point, probably just crazy. Like I said, I normally try to clear out more of the fields, but the storm is forcing me to redo my budget. I doubt I'll be able to even start utilizing the second half of the fields until next year.” 

Alex frowned down at the map. “Well, are you sure you don’t need me to do anything else?”

The Farmer glanced at Alex. He looked somewhat refreshed after eating, but his eyelids were drooping a bit. “No, go home and take a nap. I’m going to basically be doing paperwork, which would put you to sleep anyways.”

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but a yawn escaped before words. “Fine, I guess you’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow for the Luau then.”

A thought suddenly snapped into The Farmer’s mind. “Wait! Actually, I could use your help with something.”

The other man raised an eyebrow, “With what?”

The Farmer’s tongue felt suddenly fat and fuzzy, rendering him speechless. He shouldn’t be asking this, but there’s no way he could do this on his own. He swallowed his hesitation. “Tomorrow, could you come an hour earlier? I need to ask you for a favor about the Luau.”

Alex’s expression and whole body dropped. “A whole hour?”

“I promise to feed you breakfast.”

Alex suddenly perked up. “See you tomorrow!”

The Farmer watched him go, unable to keep a small smile from his face at Alex's enthusiasm.

  Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 11 

The sun had only just started to rise when Alex and The Farmer at on the water’s edge with fishing poles. The sunlight’s reflection sparkled off the water’s ripples, blinding Alex for the better part of the sunrise. They sat on the tiny island in the center of the mountain lake, backs pressed against the largest tree trunk. So far, neither of them had even had even a nibble.

Alex had settled the fishing pole between his legs, settling the base of it into a hole he had dug into the dirt. He trusted his own instincts enough to snatch it before a fish tugged it away. He leaned a bit further back into the tree to get more comfortable. His shoulder brushed up against The Farmers. He noticed that The Farmer initially jumped at the contact, but didn’t think much of it. The dude was just a jumpy guy.

“Can I ask you something?” Alex said.

“Sure.”

“Why are you doing this?”

The Farmer turned to look at Alex, the other man meeting his gaze. The Farmer’s eyebrow was quirked up. “I told you. This is my contribution to the hot pot. Fish tastes better if you catch them the same day-”

“No,” Alex cut him off. “I know what you’re doing. But why are you doing this? Shouldn’t you be focusing on your farm? Or resting your foot?”

The Farmer looked out over the water, face slightly pensive. He pulled his body ever so slightly tighter to himself.  “I need to.” The Farmer’s voice was cold and flat, a stark difference from warmth that Alex was used to hearing. Even when the man was talking about his work, it never sounded like this. “Everyone’s expecting me to bring something great.”

For a moment, Alex didn’t know what to say. The day was bright and sunny, but the air blowing off the lake chilled him. “Why do you think that?”

“Everyone keeps saying so. After all, I’m the local farmer. Food’s my specialty, so this should be a cinch.”

The Farmer’s line suddenly tugged. He pulled back hard and started to reel it in as Alex watched in silence. In a few seconds, he had a sturgeon in hand and and removing the hook from its mouth. The Farmer dropped it into the bucket they’d brought, and his eyes met Alex's. “What?”

Alex didn't realized he’d been staring. “Ah, well...I think you may have interpreted that the wrong way.”

“How else would they have meant it?”

“Well...That’s just everyone's way of getting excited with you about the festival. I mean, you don’t exactly spend a lotta time in the village, so most folk hardly know anything about you. Aside from the fact that you grown and sell crops, you're a mystery. It’s probably just easiest for everyone to start a conversation with you about that food.” Alex rubbed the back of his neck, feeling suddenly a little sheepish for talking so honestly. “And you know, not everyone adds to the hot pot. Well, not since the year Abby panicked and spoiled the whole stew when she threw an emerald cluster from her stone collection in it.”

The Farmer blinked. The emotions behind eyes changed, now holding a gleam of amusement. “You’re kidding.”

“I swear on Yoba, it’s true. It used to be required that everyone add to the Luau pot, and that was the year she insisted she’d bring her own ingredient. Haley told me that Abby had apparently forgotten until the day of and thought she could pull off some sort of ‘Stone Soup’ situation. Most everyone in town was in bed for a couple of days. She felt so guilty that she threw herself in front of Lewis’ door and told him to lock her up.”

The Farmer snorted, a smile touching at his lips. “How old were you guys when this happened?”

“I think most of us had just started middle school at that point.” Alex shook his head. “Anyways, I’m off topic. What I’m saying is, not everyone adds to the hot pot. You could have just said you weren’t gonna have anything and they would have understood.” 

The two men were quiet for a moment, and Alex could see The Farmer digesting his words. Then, The Farmer spoke. “Your line’s gonna get away.”

Alex reacted to the sound of water splashing. He leapt to his feet as the pole shot out from between his legs. He managed to snatch the pole from the shallow edge of the water, saving it from disappearing into the lake. He tugged and reeled, struggling to land whatever was on his line. He had wanted to focus on what they had been talking about, but this fish had the worst timing.

“Wait,” The Farmer had stood up and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder, leaning on him for support. “Don’t reel wildly, the line will snap. Wait until the line goes lax and then reel.”

Alex nodded, following The Farmer’s directions carefully. After a few minutes of struggling, he gave a final tug and managed to yank a sturgeon on his own out of the water. He held up the line the fish was hooked on carefully, feeling a stupid grin spreading across his face. “Hey, I got one!”

The Farmer snorted. “Yeah, all on your own too.”

Alex shot him a frown in reaction to the snide comment, leaving the fish suspended from the pole between them.

Eventually, The Farmer got the hint. “Do you not know how to de-hook a fish?”

“In my defense, I’ve never been fishing before.”

“Well not a bad catch for your first time fishing. Here,” he grabbed the fish, “it’s simple. All you have to do is hold the fish still and then just pull the hook out like this?” The Farmer yanked the hook out with a swift motion, at which Alex flinched.

“Doesn’t that hurt the fish?”

The Farmer shrugged after he put the sturgeon into the bucket. “Probably. But it’s like a band-aid. If I went slowly it would have only hurt even more. Besides, we’re eating him soon anyways.”

Alex looked down at the two fish in the bucket as The Farmer went to re-bait his own line. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

The Farmer handed Alex a worm. Then, with a half-smile, he said. “You’re right, too.” 

Alex took the worm. “About what?”

“That I should have just said I wasn’t participating in the Luau hot pot.” He gave a half-smile. “I guess it’s a bad habit I haven’t broken from Joja. They never encouraged us to speak up, just to work like mindless robots. So when Lewis told me to bring my best, I guess I just took it as an order from my boss and not a harmless comment from a friend.”

“Was it really that bad working there?”

The Farmer cast his line out. A cloud overhead cast a shadow over The Farmer's face. “Yeah, it was. Each room had these giant glass windows high on the walls where men in black suits would watch us work. I never saw them move once, but whenever someone was caught slacking a red light with a buzzer would go off at their desk. Supposed to be a gentle reminder, but instead it’d give you a heart attack.”

Alex stuck the worm on his own hook, the metal barb gleaming in the sunlight. “That sounds like cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Probably was.” The Farmer sighed. “I gotta remind myself that Lewis isn't my boss and he’s just trying to make conversation, like you said. No one in the village will ever treat me as badly as Joja did. Well, except maybe Morris,” he added quickly with a frown.

“Well I’m sure you can train Saber to fend him off.”

“Ha, sure. Then I can work on teaching pigs to fly.” The Farmer gave Alex a light jab with his elbow. “Now hush. We’ve got an hour and all this talking will scare off the fish.”

Alex cast out his own line with a grin. “Yes, boss.”

The walk through town put into perspective just how strong the storm had been. The most obvious signs were tarps were tacked over windows that had been blown out; temporary fixes until Robin was able to procure actual glass to replace them. Most of the buildings were missing a handful of roofing tiles and, in some cases, even siding. A few trees had been blown over but already removed, leaving spots of upturned dirt around town. Even the tires that Pam had in front of her trailer were gone, and that just rubbed The Farmer the wrong way. It felt as if they were walking through his own home and all his furniture had moved two inches to the left.

For the most part, the town had been cleaned up. The only real evidence that there was still clean-up in progress was the occasional object The Farmer spotted still stuck in a tree and the debris pile in Lewis' backyard. 

The town was quiet with Alex and The Farmer the only souls around. The Farmer looked up at sun, feeling the summer heat that came kick in again after the cold front brought by the storm had finally passed.  He could feel sweat gather in his pits where he leaned on the crutches. “What time is it?”

Alex was walking in front of him. He readjusted his grip on the fish filled bucket, digging his phone out with his free hand. “A little before noon.”

“I guess everyone must be at the beach. We’re a little late.”  

“We’ll be fine. Lewis never starts until everyone in town is present.” Alex assured him. In a few minutes, he was proven right. When the two walked onto the beach, nearly everyone crowded The Farmer. He was bombarded with the expected ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Do you need to sit?’ questions, and answers were exchanged. Jas and Vincent had rushed to the front of the crowd, their curiosity evident as they spoke to the crutches instead of The Farmer.

“Does it hurt?” Jas asked.

“Did you break a bone? Can I see it?" Vincent said excitedly. "I’ve never seen a broken bone before.”

“It hurts, but I’m getting better.” The Farmer said. “All thanks to Dr. Harvey.”

Vincent reached out for one of the crutches. “What’s this?”

“Give him space you two.” Penny appeared from the crown and put one hand on Jas' should and using the other hand to take ahold of the him of Vincent's collar. Vincent was yanked gently back a moment before touching The Farmer's crutch. “You don’t want to accidentally hurt him anymore, do you? Why don’t you go dance with Emily?”

“Kay,” both children drawled before running away. Most of the crowd also took this chance to disperse, going back to their own activities. The Farmer felt a hesitant smile work its way onto his face as they all went. Alex had been right. Not a single person asked what he'd brought, and was instead worried about his own well-being. It was an enjoyable feeling. 

Penny smiled at The Farmer after they left. “Hopefully they weren’t too much trouble.”

“I’m fine,” The Farmer smiled back at her. “Just a sprained ankle.”

“That’s good.” Penny gave a small sigh of relief. “I’m glad it was nothing too serious. But how are you going to handle your farm work?”

“Oh, don’t worry.” The Farmer gestured at Alex, who had been standing behind him awkwardly with the bucket while all the attention had been on The Farmer. “Alex volunteered to do the heavy lifting part of my work until I can walk again.”

Nearby, Haley swooned dramatically. “That’s so chivalrous of you Alex. He’s like a knight in shining armor.”

Alex’s face flushed from the teasing. “Well, you know, it gets boring just lifting weights in my room all day. I-, I figured this could be a nice change of pace.”

George barked with laughter, who rolled up to them with Evelyn at his side. “He gets that green thumb from me ya know. I used to put in my own time on that farm when your grandpa ran it.”

The Farmer turned to him, completely surprised. “Wait, you knew my grandfather?”

“You bet I did.” George said. “Before my legs went bad, whenever work was slow at the mines your grandpa would hire me to help clear fields. Used to take Alex with me sometimes, when he was a little tyke.”

The Farmer turned to Alex. “You've been on the farm before?”

Alex tiled his head and thought. “Maybe? I don’t really remember much from back when I was a kid.” His face darkened. “It was kind of a rough time.”

“So that’s where you disappeared to yesterday.” Evelyn said. “It’s very nice of you to offer, Alex. Make sure you’re not a burden on The Farmer.”

“Yeah, keep this troublemaker in line for us.” George snickered.

The Farmer was somewhat focused on Alex’s cryptic answer earlier but didn’t feel he should probe at it. Instead he gave George a grin. “Oh, don’t worry. When I’m done with him that armor won’t be shining no more.”

George laughed again, slapping The Farmer on the back and almost knocking him over. “I like him! Alex, you should invite him over for dinner one of these nights.”

“Speaking of dinner,” Lewis quite literally popped in like an excited child and was now staring at the bucket in Alex’s hand. “What did you bring for the hot pot?”

The Farmer and Alex exchanged a look. Alex nodded, and The Farmer turned to Lewis. “Actually, I didn’t have any crops to bring. I kinda forgot and didn’t plan ahead properly.” Lewis’ smile dropped slightly. “But, Alex and I woke up early and caught some fresh fish instead.”

Lewis’ beaming smile returned. “Excellent! I don't expect any out-of-towners this year, given the problem with the storm, but The Governor will be here soon.” He turned and called over his shoulder. “Gus, can you help The Farmer prepare some fish?”

Gus gave a thumb’s up from his table, not breaking eye contact with Pam. He was preparing food of his own, while Pam was attempting to snatch up anything the second Gus dropped his guard. There was a small red welt on her hand from where, presumably, Gus had smacked it away with his wooden spoon.

Alex dropped the bucket off at Gus' prep table and then got pulled away by his grandparents. With only a little difficulty, The Farmer made his way through the sand with the crutches and set about to prepping the fish. He picked up one of Gus' knives and quickly lobbed off the head of the first fish. As he pushed the head off to one side, Penny stepped up next to him.

“Would you like some help?” She asked. “I don’t think Gus will be much help if he’s fending off my mother.”

“Oh, sure.” The Farmer watched out of the corner of his eye as she pulled her hair back tighter and put on an apron. “Do you need me to show you how to prepare fish?”

“No, I’ve had some experience.” She paused when she looked into the cooler. She then looked up with a half-grimace. “But, could you behead them for me? I don’t think I have the stomach for it.”

“Sure.” The Farmer handed her the fish he had already started. “Here, take this one.”

“Thank you.”

The Farmer continued to watch her as he took out a second fish and started working on it. He suddenly felt the need to look around. Marnie was slowly stirring the giant cast iron pot with a smile on her face. Robin and Demetrius were dancing on a makeshift dancefloor of palm leaves with Emily, Jas, and Vincent nearby. Clint was muttering to himself, casting nervous glances up at Emily every now and then. Everyone was enjoying themselves, even Linus had a smile on his face as he roasted...something on a spit fire on the other side of the beach.

When he spotted Alex, talking with Haley and his grandparents, The Farmer watched him. He was smiling, and from the looks of it, also the butt end of jokes Haley and George were making. Alex noticed The Farmer staring and waved at him.

The Farmer waved back, and then said, “Hey Penny, can I tell you something?”

She didn’t look up from her fish. “Sure, anything.”

“I, ah," He looked down at the fish head he'd cut earlier, but then back up at Penny. "I’m gay.”

Penny’s knife didn’t come back up immediately after her next cut. She looked over at him, “You are?”

The Farmer nodded. His heart pounded. “Yeah. I am.”

“Oh, okay. I see.” Penny looked back down at her fish processing the information. Before The Farmer could say anything, Penny spoke again. “I’m bi.”

The Farmer's head snapped up at her confession, and when the two made eye contact, Penny’s face flushed to a bright crimson. “You’re…”

“I’m bi.” Penny said again with slightly more confidence. Her face was still red as she put her knife down. She whipped her hands on her apron and then covered her reddened cheeks with them. “Wow, I’ve never said that out loud before.”

The Farmer smiled at her. “Wait, really? I’m the first person you’ve told?”

Penny nodded, smiling back at him. “It’s kind of an exhilarating feeling.”

The Farmer laughed. “It is, isn't it?”

Penny nodded again. “I-, I don’t know why I said it. I just, when you told me, I felt like I could finally tell someone, you know? It's never come up before, so I didn't know how to tell others.”

“Well that just means you trust me, right?” The Farmer touched her shoulder reassuringly. “So, thank you.”

“Ah, thank you too,” Penny said quickly. “For telling me that you’re gay." She shook her head, "I mean, for trusting me.”

“Yeah well, we’re pretty good friends, aren’t we?” The Farmer beamed. “Hey, maybe we can start Pelican Town’s first gay-bi alliance.”

Penny smiled. “M-Maybe.”

Suddenly Lewis rushed by them, approaching a larger man who had just descended onto the beach sand. He shook the other man’s hand vigorously and bowed several times, looking very much like a daughter trying to impress her new mother-in-law.

“Before that,” Penny picked up her knife. “We should probably finish preparing the fish.”

“Good call.” The Farmer resumed his prep work too. But as he was slicing up the fish, he couldn’t help but look up at Alex now and then. 

“Hey,” Marnie hissed from her position above the pot. “Are you almost ready?”

“Almost!” Both The Farmer and Penny chimed together. They exchanged another look and laughed, both feeling a little more joyful than ever before. 

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 14

The summer sun beat down upon the fields, and not even a single cloud to offer the mercy of shade was anywhere in sight. Alex was making his way slowly through the cornstalks harvesting ears of corn and Robin had restarted construction on the chicken coop. The rhythmic pounding of her hammer was occasionally joined by the soft rustling of the wind as it weaved through the crops.

The Farmer sat in his usual spot on the porch. Nestled safely in the shade and overseeing the work. He tapped the eraser end of a pencil against his notebook, a meaningless movement to alleviate his apathy. The novelty of having someone do all his work for him had worn off far too quickly. The notebook was supposed to help with his boredom, but he could only write so much.  He had recorded plans, theories, and one-word ideas about how he could expand his business. The word 'GIRAFFE' was written at the top corner of one of the pages and underlined twice. He'd spend more than one afternoon starting at the word for hours. Eventually, he gave up and made a vow to his future self that he would write more detailed notes.

In all honesty, it probably wouldn't help him even if he could remember; most of the plans he'd written down were far too ambitious or straight up too expensive for him to attempt. There were plenty of bees in the area, so he once contemplated building beehives, but he didn't even know where to start with harvesting honey. Robin once mentioned she could build him ponds to raise his own fish, but that required money and materials he didn't have yet. Penny had even brought Vincent and Jas over recently, and the children assaulted him with the "If you're a farmer, why don't you have this or that?" question.

The answer usually came as one of two things; time or money. Neither of which was a luxury The Farmer could afford to have now that he'd sworn himself to the homesteading lifestyle.  

He sighed and placed the notebook and writing utensil aside, opting to steal from Alex’s lunch instead. Specifically, stealing one of his shortbread cookies. Since the Luau, Alex had started bringing lunches large enough to feed four people, courtesy of his grandmother.  Evelyn was such a fantastic cook that The Farmer's greed often clouded his vision and he found himself fighting with Alex to get the last bite. But since Alex always seemed to leave his lunchbox within arms reach of The Farmer, the man made the assumption that Alex only ever joking complained about his lunch being stolen. In all honesty though, The Farmer believed that Alex took one look at his fridge a week ago and reported back to Evelyn. Evelyn in turn took that as a sign to fulfil her role as the world's greatest grandmother and making sure they both got enough to eat.

After digging the cookie from the lunchbox, The Farmer noticed Alex approaching. He wore an amused smile and carried a basket filled with corn in his arms. “You know, my grandma would scold you if she knew that when you stole my lunch you always started with dessert,” Alex said. He walked inside the cottage and quickly exited, no longer carrying the basket in his hands. He sat down on the other side of The Farmer, picking one of the chicken sandwiches out of the lunchbox. "I can already hear her now, telling you that you're spoiling your dinner." 

The Farmer took a large and exaggerated bite out of his cookie. “Then tell her to stop appealing to my sweet tooth when she makes you food," he said, while only spiting the minimal amount of crumbs. 

Alex smirked at him, an eyebrow rising up as a smirk graced his lips. Before The Farmer could react, Alex snatched the cookie from between The Farmer's fingers and then deftly plucked the remaining cookies from the lunchbox. He shoved the lot of them unceremoniously into his mouth. Cookie crumbs tumbled down his face as he smiled. 

The Farmer glared at him. “That’s disgusting, and you’re disgusting. I hope you know that.”

Alex shrugged, amusement painted upon his face.

The Farmer retaliated by taking the sandwich from Alex's hands and taking a bit out of it. He stuck his tongue out at Alex before dropping the sandwich back in the lunchbox and hobbling inside.  There was a small circular fan running in the corner, rotating lazily. It was funny, how such a small purchase turned out to be his greatest investment. The Farmer hadn't realized how hot summers got until the first truly sweltering day of summer graced Pelican town.  The thought never crossed his mind when he planned his escape from Joja. It was obvious now though, that moving out here meant that he had to give up the luxury of central heating and air. Robin had mentioned a while back that she could hook him up with a window unit air conditioner, but it unfortunately had to be added to the list of items he couldn't afford yet. Luckily the heat was usually bearable since the ocean was nearby. The sea breeze did a good job of keeping the humidity at bay, but on days like today when the breeze was MIA, the tiny fan felt like a gift from Yoba themselves. 

The TV had been left on with the volume on low. The weatherman droned on about a heatwave that would hit later this week, souring The Farmer's mood slightly. The basket of corn sat on the kitchen table next to another basket of blueberries Alex had already picked that morning. He hobbled over to the kitchen and pulled some large brown-paper grocery bags out from under the sink. He walked back to the crops—leaning his crutches against the table—and started sorting the corn into three different bags.

“What’cha doing?” Alex asked. He had followed The Farmer in, holding the lunchbox in his hands.

The Farmer turned his head to regard Alex. Alex had foregone his signature jacket today, wearing a white tank top instead to combat the heat. The shirt sat loosely on Alex's frame, slightly oversized, but it made him look distractingly cute. 

“I’m sorting out what to sell.” The Farmer said, turning back before he could be tempted by his wandering mind. He pointed p at a small pile of plastic containers that sat above the fridge. “Could you grab me a few of those for the blueberries?”

“Sure.” Alex, dropped the lunchbox on the table, nudging it towards The Farmer. "But only if you eat more. You've eben up for hours and you've only had a bite of that cookie so far. You gotta eat more if you wanna grow up big and strong like me," he joked.

"I would, but some bully keeps stealing my cookies from me."

Alex snickered at the comment, and The Farmer ignored the warmth that surged through his gut. 'Why does this asshole have to have the cutest laugh?'

He side-eyed Alex as the man went to grab the containers. As he did, his shirt lifted slightly above the hem of his pants, revealing a strip of flesh near Alex's navel. Something that did not go unnoticed by The Farmer. He tore his eyes away by the time Alex turned back around, but his heart was beating slightly harder.

'Yoba, what am I? Getting excited over seeing a little bit of skin?' The Farmer half-scolded himself.  

Alex tapped the containers against The Farmer’s arm. “Hey, you okay?”

The Farmer nodded, trying and failing to give a normal smile when he looked at Alex. His expression held a slightly concerned aspect to it, but it slowly faded the longer the gaze held. Just to do anything else, The Farmer took the containers from Alex. Their fingers brushed during the exchange, and he felt the heat from the sun still radiate from the other man’s skin. His mind focused in on that warmth as the sounds of the summer outside faded from his ears. 

Alex cleared his throat, and the two suddenly started looking for anything else in the house to stare at. “So, why are you sorting this stuff out?”

“Hm?” The Farmer couldn't hear much above his beating heart.

“I mean, don’t you just sell it all to Pierre?”

The Farmer gladly latched onto the change of topic. “Do you honestly think that Pierre could buy my full harvest without going out of business?”

Alex frowned, looking at the crops on the table. “Well, from that tone, I'd guess no. Then who do you sell it to?”

“Well, I keep a small amount for myself of course, and that,” he nodded to the second pile, “I sell to Pierre. As for the last of it,” The Farmer referred to the largest pile with a frown. “I sell to Joja. But to be honest I’d rather not sell to them if I could.”

“How come?”

“Well, aside from my personal dislike for the company, they don’t let me sell at my own prices. They buy at their price or they buy nothing at all. It’s the only way I can actually bring money into Pelican Town from the outside, but with the export taxes I have to pay on top of it, I barely break even.”

Alex looked over the crops. “Isn’t there another way? Surely you don’t have to sell to them if you didn’t want to.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve tried.” The Farmer sighed. “But the fact is I’m a no-name novice farm with a too-low crop yield. No company in their right mind would waste the resources to send out a refrigerated truck to buy a single bag of crops. I barely have a high enough yield to set up a stand in town if I had wanted to. Since Joja already has a truck come here to restock their store, they’re my only option.”

“Holy shit.”

The Farmer frowned at Alex, “What?”

Alex shrugged, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “Well, I just didn’t realize you were so passionate about this.”

“You think...I’m passionate?”

“Well, yeah. Whenever you talk about this stuff—I don’t know—you kinda light up and you never stumble over your words like you usually do.”

The Farmer felt the praise go right to his reddening cheeks. He looked away, thanking Yoba that Alex was oblivious to the real reason he was always nervous around the man. “I’ve just had to put a lot of work into this. The jump from office goffer to agricultural entrepreneur was a pretty big leap. Lewis and I had countless phone calls and sit-down meetings before and after I moved here just to work out the business stuff.”

A weight fell across The Farmer’s shoulders as Alex threw his arm around him. The heat coming off Alex’s body seeped into his own, almost intoxicatingly so.  Alex gave The Farmer a reassuring squeeze, sending electricity along his skin. “Okay, now you’re selling yourself short,” Alex said. “If you weren’t at least halfway enjoying yourself, I think you’d have packed up and gone back to the city long ago. Not just anyone can make that sudden change, and I think you’re doing a pretty amazing job so far. You grow food, and it tastes damn good too!”

The Farmer stood quite for a moment. An intrusive thought crossed his mind. 'Am I really passionate about this, or does my new life just require a lot of work? '

As the thought rattled about The Farmer's head, he kept still. He wanted to close his eyes, tempted to just turn into Alex and embrace him. The idea of just shutting off his mind and enjoying this physical closeness with someone...

'Stop it.' The Farmer mentally slapped himself. 'I don't want that anymore.'

He removed Alex’s hand with his own. He couldn't bring himself to met the other man's eyes. He picked up the blueberries and brought them to the sink. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Alex,” he said while turning on the faucet.

Alex followed and leaned against the counter. “I know, but if I add in my pretty face, it can.”

The Farmer almost agreed but caught himself before he voiced it. Mustering his best poker face, he shot Alex the same disgusted look he would have given if the man had just told a pun. “I know I’m gay Alex, but you've got to be more than a pretty face to get anywhere with me.”

Alex’s grin got wider. “So, you admit it’s pretty?”

The Farmer summoned the best frown he could, and then looked pointedly back to his task of washing the blueberries. “It’s not bad,” he muttered. Then he tossed a blueberry at Alex and said louder, “Here.”

Alex fumbled the catch initially but managed to swipe the berry out of the air before it hit the floor.  “What’s this for?”

“You said my food tastes good, but that’s just because it’s just really, really fresh. Fruits and vegetables start to lose their sweetness the second they’re picked. Try it.”

Alex wore a skeptical look but tossed the berry into his mouth. The second it was crushed between his teeth, his expression switched to disbelief. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed. “This is the sweetest blueberry I’ve ever had.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Now it was The Farmer’s turn to give Alex a shit-eating grin. “Because I’m deducing that from your pay.”

“But you’re not paying me anything.”

The Farmer tiled his head to the side, a small smile on his lips. “Huh, then I guess that means you owe me money.”

 Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 15

Alex hugged his legs to his chest, nestled in the darkness of a linen closet. His eyes felt puffy, and the tears felt warm falling over his swollen cheek. He strained his gaze on the faint line of light that crept towards him from under the door. Occasionally, a shadow would pass over, and his body would freeze up.

“Alex,” slurred a heavy voice. “Where are you?”

He pressed his lips tighter together, willing himself shrink smaller until he was no bigger than the dirty sock next to him.

“I’m sorry Alex. I promise I won’t do it again.” The voice was right outside the closet door. A shadow fell over the light again. The floorboard creaked, and a whimper escaped Alex. Heavy silence filled the air.

Drunken and uneven footsteps approached, lumbering 'thud!' after 'thud!' reaching Alex's ears. Then, when it had stopped, door handle began to turn, slowly but surely. A groan filled the air as it agonized to open. He squeezed his eyes shut, burring his face in his knees.

“Found you!”

Alex opened his eyes. He was outside now, hidden behind a small log pile. A spring breeze ruffled his hair and the air carried a hint of compost. A girl wearing a white dress with blond hair and big blue eyes smiled at him from around the corner of the pile. Haley.

“You know, you’re really not good at this,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Alex frowned at her as he stood up. “You’re too good at hide n’ seek.”

“All I did was think of where the obvious places to hide would be and looked there.” Haley tapped her head with her finger. “Papa says you got to think outside the box to be successful in life.”

The two walked out from Alex’s hidden spot behind Lewis’ house towards the playground, the designated gathering spot for anyone that had been caught. The children gathered groaned when they approached.

“She found Alex?” Abby whined. “It’s been less than five minutes.”

“You’re cheating!” Sam accused, pointed a finger at her from where he sat in a swing. Several of the children murmured in agreement. “How else can you find everyone so easily?”

Haley shrugged. “You all hid in obvious spots. I mean, come on, only a moron would hide in Mr. Lewis’ truck.” She shot Sam a knowing grin, whose face flushed in embarrassment. “Anyways, it’s Alex’s turn to seek since I found him last.”  

“Wait.” Everyone turned to Emily, who was counting on her fingers. Being the oldest, she stood about six inches taller than everyone. “Where’s the new kid?” She asked. 

“Oh right,” Haley looked back towards town. “I forgot about him.”

Sam sighed, falling onto his back in the sandbox. “What’s it matter? She’ll find him soon enough.”

Alex took a seat on the edge of the sandbox as Haley leisurely walked back into town to resume her search. But when he blinked, the sky was ablaze with the color of the setting sun. Several adults were gathered around the children asking questions.

“What do you mean you can’t find him?”

“We were playing hide and seek,” Haley twisted the hem of her dress in her hands. The confidence she'd had earlier was gone.  She looked on the edge of tears. “I've been calling his name, but he won’t come out.”

Haley’s mother knelt down and pulled her daughter into a hug, whispering soft reassurances to her. The rest of the adults all exchanged worried looks. Alex looked away from the scene, a strange sense of deja vu falling over him. As the adults continued their inquiry with the children, something caught Alex’s eye. For just a moment, he thought he saw a flash of red near the community center. It didn’t seem as if the adults noticed it. Alex stood up and walked over, unnoticed.

Behind the building, he didn’t find anything. Nothing in the bushes, in the windows, nor under any rocks. The sun had almost completely set, and Alex had just about thought he imagined seeing anything. But then he saw it again. It was near his foot, and this time when he looked down, he noticed that in the grass was a piece of roofing shingle. The wind blew through the leaves of the nearby trees, and then he heard it.

“Please help.”

Alex looked up. A very soft voice, like a whisper, came from above him. He didn’t see anything, but he called out. “Hello?”

Minutes seemed to pass, until a small head poked over the edge of the roof. There was a small shriek, and the head disappeared from view.

“Hey!” Alex called, “Aren’t you the new kid? Are you okay?”

“No.” The answer sounding like a whimpering dog. “I can’t get down.”

“Can’t you jump?”

“It’s too high!”

Alex looked around, trying to figure out how the other kid got up there in the first place. The closest tree to the roof looked like it might work. There were branches low enough to work as footholds. But the branch that would have reached over the roof was broken halfway—

“Oh,” Alex took a step away, realizing what had happened. “Hold on, I'm gonna get an adult.”

“No, please! I don't wanna get in trouble!”

Alex stopped. The scene changed again, and suddenly he was back in the closet. The door was thrown open, but he was alone, looking out into an empty living room. From somewhere else in the home, he heard his own voice screaming in fear, crying ‘No!’ over and over. His cheek burned with pain as a door somewhere in the house slammed shut.

Against his own will, his legs brought him out the closet. He knew what he would find, but didn’t want to look. His body compelled him to creep forwards, eventually bringing him to the kitchen. There was a tall and lean man standing in front of the refrigerator. His back was to Alex as he pulled out a glass bottle in a paper bag and drank deeply from it. Alex stood still, and when the man finished his drink, the refrigerator door slammed shut. Several magnets clattered to the floor.

"I didn't want to do this," The man said, his back still to Alex. “This is what happens when you get in trouble, boy." 

Alex blinked, and he was back outside the community center. The young boy was at the edge of the roof, peering down at him. He gripped the edge of the roof with tiny fingers and white knuckles. “I don’t wanna get in trouble,” the boy repeated. “My dad said I had to be good.”

“But you can’t get down unless you jump,” Alex said.

The boy shook his head. “It’s too high!”

Alex crossed his arms and frowned. “The adults can bring a ladder. Otherwise you have to jump.”

Tears formed in the boy’s eyes. He deliberated in silence. “Will you catch me?”

“Catch you?”

The boy nodded. “If you’ll catch me, I’ll jump down. Then the adults won’t know I was up here.”

Part of Alex wanted to say he was already in trouble for being missing this long, but he kept his mouth shut. “Fine, I’ll catch you.” He threw his arms wide open, in absolutely no position to be catching anything.

The boy hesitated. Slowly, he brought his body closer to the edge of the roof until his legs were swinging in the air. But Alex could tell the boy was losing his nerve. He swallowed, and then yelled as loud as he could. “Jump!”

The boy pushed himself off the ledge, plummeting towards Alex. The soles of the boy’s shoes planted themselves squarely on Alex’s face. And when his vision came back, he was staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom.

His phone’s alarm was buzzing on the night stand next to him, and the sky outside his window was the purple-blue hue of the earliest moments of the sunrise. He sat up, his whole body feeling sore and skin clammy with sweat. 'I haven't had a dream about that asshole in a while,' he bitterly thought to himself. 

Alex dismissed the alarm and pulled himself out of bed. He felt groggy, but that’s wasn’t unusual following nightmares. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he pulled himself up and headed for the shower. He would usually dream of his father this time of year, but the rest was new. He was sure it wasn’t a memory. He had never played with anyone aside from Haley as a child. As he scrubbed the shampoo into his scalp, the fragments of the dream joined the suds and washed themselves down the drain.

 Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 20

The sky bled with a dark purple-blue color by the time Alex walked back onto the farm’s property. The sun had just set below the horizon, and the first of the evening stars dotted the sky, peeking out from the clouds that had gathered overhead. The cool and less-humid night air felt good against his skin. He carried a plastic shopping bag filled with seeds and the money from selling today's harvest jingled in his pocket.

The farm was finally starting to look like it had before the storm. Better than before, in fact. The corn field had doubled in size, the melon patch had sprung up again, and you could feed a small army with the amount of blueberry bushes that sprouted. The lights were on in the new chicken coop. The artificial orange light spilling out from the open door.

Alex set the bag down on the cottage’s front stoop and made his way over to the chicken coop. Inside, he found The Farmer, sitting with his back to the door. He held feed in his outstretched hand towards the two chickens that huddled together on the far side of the coop, Maria and Lissa—and to be honest, Alex couldn’t tell them apart. The Farmer wore a determined expression, his brow creased, and his lips curled into a frown.

Alex leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and half-smiling at the situation. The chickens froze at his appearance, clucking wary to each other. “They didn’t do it yesterday and they aren’t going to do it today,” Alex said.

“That’s because you showed up,” The Farmer retorted, not taking his eyes from the chickens. “Lissa seemed interested earlier but ran when she heard you come. They’ll come to trust me eventually.”

“Yeah, until you turn one of them into chicken nuggets.”

One of the chickens screamed and jumped darted away, it's companion following shortly after.

The Farmer sighed and threw the feed back into the tray at his feet. He shot Alex a dirty look. “I would never subjugate them to that experience. If anyone is eating my birds they’re gonna enjoy it the natural way, not processed.”

Alex walked over and offered a hand to help The Farmer up. “Don’t you think that’s why they don’t trust you?”

The Farmer took it, pulling himself up and onto his crutches. “Or maybe it’s because you keep bringing up the fact that they’re livestock. How would you feel if your parent's friends showed up and said they should have named you Drumstick and Wing Bar?"

Alex snorted. “I’d think my parents should get friends who aren’t cannibals.”

The Farmer huffed. “You’d make a terrible meal anyways. You’d be too stringy. You’re nothing but muscle and bone,” he said before he shuffled out of the coop. Alex followed, flipping the lights off and pulling the door shut behind him.

They walked towards back towards the cottage side by side, Alex having to slow his pace slightly to match The Farmers. He asked, “How’s your leg feeling?”

“I hardly feel any more pain,” The Farmer said. “Hopefully I can get this off soon.”

“Aw, growing bored of me already?”

“I mean, I could do without the witty back-sass all the time.”

Alex laughed. “You’re right, I’m a terrible employee.”

“And you wonder why I don’t pay you anything.” They’d reached the porch, and The Farmer nodded at the plastic bag. “I mean look, you don’t even put things away properly.”

“If I do it right now, do my chances for a raise go up?”

A smile quirked at the corner of The Farmer’s mouth. “We’ll talk about it during your next annual review.”

Alex scooped up the bag and went to place it next to The Farmer’s tool chest in the cottage. When he came back out, he found The Farmer sitting on the edge of the porch looking out over the field. Alex sat down next to him. A warm wind swept peacefully through the farm, and Alex closed his eyes to enjoy the feel on it on his face. When he opened his eyes, he noticed soft flashes of light becoming visible across field. Fireflies were dipping in and out of the tall grasses and hovering about the crops, becoming brighter as the sun plunged the farm further into the night.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me Alex,” The Farmer said unprompted. Alex turned to him, seeing the man's eyes deep in thought as he gazed out over the farm, eyes transfixed on the small bugs.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“No, it is.” The Farmer turned to Alex. “I honestly don’t know if I could have fixed everything up as fast as we have if I had done it on my own. I really, truly appreciate everything.”

The sheer sincerity behind The Farmer’s eyes caught Alex off guard. He coughed to clear his through, taking a moment before saying, “Well, I mean, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

A small smile touched The Farmer’s lips. “Yeah, that's what we are. Friends.” He brought his hands together in his lap and looked down at them. A moment passed. “You know, in my grandpa’s letter, he said he left me this farm because he thought I’d end up like him one day.”

“What, inheriting the family business?”

The Farmer shook his head. “He actually lived a life similar to mine. Nine to five job and two story house in the suburbs with a little white fence. In his letter he said his reason for leaving the city was because it was no longer fulfilling. That he had forgotten what truly matters. Connecting with other people.” The Farmer paused. “To be truthful, I really had no intention of connecting with anyone after I moved here. I... I needed to get away. I wanted to be alone. I was just gonna be the reclusive farmer on the edge of town. I think I was still stuck in the mindset of Joja, that my job was most important.”

Alex watched as a firefly flew towards the Farmer. It hovered about The Farmer’s face, casting a dim light over his features. The bug cast his smile in a languished light. “So what changed?”

This paused was longer, but The Farmer looked directly at him. “You did.”

Alex blinked. “Me?”

The Farmer gave a single laugh at the reaction. “I mean seriously look at us Alex. The hopeful pro-gridball player and the local farmer. We’re a pretty funny combination if you look at us from a different perspective.”

Alex’s chest felt light. It was similar to when Haley teased him. “I don’t know. It could be a pretty heartwarming story with the right spin.” Alex raised his hands above his head and then spread them out like he was revealing a headline. “‘Star athlete Alex Mullner still a down-to-earth guy, helps local business owner thrive.’ Pretty good, amiright?”

The Farmer tilted his head to the side wearing a joking smile. “I suppose it’s not bad. Just so long as you don’t forget about us little people.”  

“Never in a million years. We’re buds for life.” Alex’s grin was wide, but The Farmer's expression seemed somber. He looked away from Alex, his smile fading. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” The Farmer said. “Well, I’m just glad we’re still friends.”

“Why would we not be?”

“You may be surprised to hear this, but some people don’t know how to react to gay people. I kinda expected you to be along the same lines. I almost half-expected you to say ‘That’s cool, just don’t hit on me.’”

Alex recalled the piggyback ride down from the spa. The Farmer had said something about him being a typical jock. “Oh, you mean like what you said when you first hurt your leg.”

The Farmer nodded. “In the city, if anyone had a problem with me it was pretty easy to avoid them. It was one big mess living out there. But here, I couldn’t run if someone didn’t like me. I can’t just disappear into a crowd.”

“Do you-,” Alex paused, “sorry if this is insensitive, but do you think about it a lot? I mean, being gay?”

The Farmer shrugged. “I mean, it’s just kinda a part of who I am. Some days I just go about my life as normal and other days. Being gay doesn't cross my mind because it's just a normal part of myself. But then other days I just wanna scream it from the rooftops. I-” There was a long pause. Alex could see the silent deliberation in The Farmer’s eyes as uncertainty passed his expression. “Actually, I find I spend a lot of nights thinking about my future, you know?”

Alex has a sudden rush of thoughts—his grandparents, his obsession with gridball—but the nightmare rushed through the strongest. He swung his head back towards the fields and they sat in silence, staring out over the fireflies. Eventually Alex found his voice, coming out as a heavy murmur. “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

There was a pregnant pause, broken by The Farmer. “What do you think about?”

Alex exhaled heavily. “Well, my grandparents are old. I know they’re not gonna be around forever and that I can’t keep ignoring that. How about you?”

“Mostly about what I’m doing with my life and if I’m gonna end up alone," The Farmer sighed.

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You’re worried about being alone?”

“Well my dating pool hasn’t exactly gotten bigger after moving out here. I know it’s dumb to worry about.” His voice raised in pitch slightly, like he was trying to imitate a mid-day talk show host. “‘You don’t need a man to live a complete life, learn to be happy by yourself’, and all that jazz. Meanwhile you have a legitimate concern.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t short yourself. Didn’t your grandpa say that connections with other people are important? A romantic relationship is just another connection with someone.”

The Farmer sighed. “I mean, I guess. But I doubt he had ‘Land a bomb-ass trophy husband that supports and love you’ in mind when he wrote that line.”

Alex laughed. “Excuse me, but a trophy husband? Are you serious?”

“Alex, I’m a farmer,” he declared. “I am literally going to be bringing home the bacon.”

“Hm, I guess I could see the appeal. Whoever you manage to charm wouldn’t never have to worry about going hungry.”

“Hey,” The Farmer reached over and flicked the side of Alex’s head. “Don’t jinx me like that. If I have something come through and wipe out my crops and livelihood, I’m blaming you.”

Alex smirked at him, “That's okay by me. If you lose your livelihood, you and your future husband can come live in my mansion.”

“What, since you’ll be a pro-gridball player you automatically have a big house?”

“Exactly. I always told my grandparents I'd take care of them when I made it big. It shouldn't be hard taking care of two extra people on a six-figure salary.”

The Farmer huffed. “I take it all back. You are arrogant, thinking like that.” There was pause as he looked once again at the field. “You really think I’ll find someone?”

“Absolutely.” A smile crept onto Alex's face. “There’ll eventually be a guy in Pelican Town that thinks you’re cuter than me.”

The Farmer’s eyes were cast down, and he sighed heavily. Which was far from what Alex had expected. “Eventually,” The Farmer echoed. There was a sudden weight against Alex’s side as The Farmer leaned into him. He rested his head on Alex’s shoulder and yawned. “Is this okay? I’m tired, but I don’t wanna go inside yet.”

The Farmer’s face was hidden from Alex’s view this way. Something felt off to him, but he couldn’t place it. Instead, all he could manage was, “Ah, yeah. ‘S cool.”

Red peered out over the land, on a vigilant guard. Its lookout partner, Blue, snored nearby. The two Junimos sat in a tree on the edge of the farm, part of the first watch for the foul Beast kept by The Farmer. It was a true mystery as to how The Hero had managed to coerce such a fearsome creature to guard his property. Truly a testament to The Hero's might.

Normally they’d have to spend all night trying to distract it and keep it away from the community center, but tonight was different. The Beast had not moved from its resting place where they had found it. It sat in the center of the dirt path leading to the farm, illuminated by moonlight. At first the Junimos had thought the cat asleep, but The Beat's ears were upright and alert and his tail twitched back and forth every so often. They dared not approach him.

There was a rustling from below, which woke Blue. Blue started, looking around wildly and yelling. “Don’t get on the bus, horsey!”

“Shhhh!” Red hushed. It glanced back at The Best, but it had taken no notice. Below, two more Junimos, Orange and Yellow, were making their way up the tree.

“How’s tonight’s watch?” Orange asked once on the tree branch.

Blue shrugged its tiny arms. “The Beast hasn’t moved all night. Maybe you’ll get off easy?”

“Think it’s luring us into a false sense of security?”

“I hope not,” Yellow said. “If we get an easy night then we can work on 'Escape! The Second Act.'”

“Please stop giving your plans those dumb names,” Orange said.

“Hey,” Blue snapped. “Those plans have saved my life.”

The three Junimos squabbled among themselves, but Red kept looking over the farm. It was bothered by the change in behavior. The older Junimos often said that The Beast belonged to a race of animals that were as cunning as they were cruel. The Beast was certainly cruel, but cunning?

Movement near the cottage caught Red’s gaze. The door had been opened, but not by The Farmer. One of the villagers, the one that had been assisting him, did it. He held The Farmer in his arms, as The Farmer appeared to have been asleep. Red watched what it could through the glimpses it caught in the windows. The man was putting The Farmer into bed.

“Hey!” Orange’s voice cut above the others. “Where’s The Beast?”

Red’s attention snapped back to where the creature had been, finding it empty. Yellow and Blue immediately blamed each other, but Red tuned them out. What was most important was finding The Beast again and ensuring he wasn’t going to assault their home.

The branches of the nearest tree shifted, and all the Junimos fell quiet. Turning slowly, Red saw a pair of bright yellow eyes glistening in the moonlight. The yellow pupils were wide.

Red screamed, “DIVE!”

All four Junimos made a leap of faith, soaring towards the ground as The Beast's claws sank into the branch the spirits had just been occupying. Red rolled when it landed and ran as fast as it could. The pounding of paws against earth told Red that it has the unfortunate fate of being targeted by The Beast. Red charged blindly for town, desperate to get away.

In its haste, Red tripped. Toppling out of the woods and into the dirt path. Seconds later, The Beast leapt out from the bushes. He landed a few inches away with claws outstretched, haunches raised, and tail fluffed. Red was certain it stared death in the face, and that death had horrible, stinky breath.

“Saber?”

The Beast looked away, and Red used the distraction to dive back into the woods. Once in the safety of the underbrush, Red dared to look back. The Beast was glaring at the spot Red had been just moments ago, as if it couldn't believe the Junimo has moved so quickly. The man that had been with The Farmer, who Red recognized as The Athlete, was walking down the path towards The Beast.

“What are you doing out here?” The Athlete said. He picked up the creature and nestled it in his arms, unafraid. The Beast did not protest, but also did not look away from Red’s hiding spot. “You know he’ll worry if you’re not on the farm when he wakes up." The man sighed. "Guess I should take you back.”

The Beast's tail flicked, and it blinked at the Junimo.

As the man turned and left with creature, the other three Junimos rushed silently across the pathway to Red’s hiding spot.  

Blue was first, tumbling into the bushes. It exclaimed, “Red, are you okay?”

Red nodded. “I’m fine. But Blue, we should head back.”

“Why?”

The Junimo cast a glance back at The Athlete. "I just had an idea." 

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 23rd

The Farmer was convinced that the universe was out to personally fuck him over.  Less than a month after uprooting his city life, he's rendered useless in a storm. Then the universe dropped a literal angel into his life as an apology. It was one hell of a wicked apology though, because said angel came with a set of abs that made him seriously consider using for his laundry. And then just for kicks, the universe decided that now was the perfect time for a sweltering heat wave, meaning those abs, along with everything else, was on full display. Alex was tilling a patch of earth meant to be the beginning of The Farmer’s wheat field next week when the Autumn weather would allegedly kick in. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, which could almost be described as too short. 

The pencil in The Farmer’s hand tapped irritably against his notebook. He knew he really shouldn’t stare, but previous experience told him that Alex never noticed. He’d failed to take advantage of the opportunity at the spa, but that was in a poorly lit room with a stranger. Now, he had all afternoon to ogle his friend’s body, and the thought brought a wave of shameful embarrassment. He’d told himself repeatedly that the two of them were just gonna be friends. Alex had given no signs of ever being interested in more than friendship. Only in The Farmer's dreams, which he was most certainly not having on a nightly occurrence, would Alex reciprocate any romantic inclinations. For The Farmer’s own peace of mind, he needed to move on.

He needed to move on, but Yoba damn, the man was pleasing on the eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that Alex could crush a melon between his thighs.

The soft clinks of ice against glass distracted him, as a pitcher of pink lemonade was placed on the porch along with a tray of glasses. Haley sat down next to The Farmer, pouring herself a glass. Haley had been making frequent visits to the farm recently, declaring that she was bored being in town all by herself. She never assisted with the chores and often helped herself to whatever was in The Farmer’s kitchen. She would make the trio snacks and drinks on her visits. She and Alex had one unexpected trait in common, which was they both had bottomless stomachs. The Farmer often thought Pam had been Gus’ only headache during festivals, but these two could easily give Pam a run for her money.

Despite the fact she was emptying his fridge with each appearance, he truly enjoyed Haley’s company. It was nice to have someone to talk to during his 'medical leave' from work, and when she came it meant she’d catch him up on town gossip and history.

“I was starting to miss sitting at the ice cream stand with Alex, you know?” Haley said as she handed The Farmer a glass. “But I actually like this better. The stand only has that dinky chair and an umbrella, but you’ve got a nice wide porch with shade, and lemonade. Plus, I get to watch a cute little farmhand work his stuff.” Haley sighed happily. “I wonder if this is what it’s like to be rich.”

The Farmer took a drink himself, straining to not rise to agree with her. He’d still only come out to Alex and Penny and was currently getting a read on Haley. He'd had girl friends in the past that treated him as nothing more than an accessory to their lives as soon as they discovered he was gay. They'd constantly offer to set him up with other gay men they knew or tried to get him to dress in drag an perform for them. Haley appeared to love to gossip, so it was probably best he played with his cards close to his chest for now. He veered the conversation to talk of her earlier statement. “So, if you and Alex are here, who’s manning the ice cream stand?”

“I think Jas and Vincent are.”

“Not by themselves I hope.”

Haley laughed. “Of course not. Penny’s supervising them, and Lewis said if anyone asks, Penny’s the one running the stand and the kids are enthusiastic volunteers. I mean, if Vincent was left unsupervised, he'd eat everything himself using the sample sticks.”

The Farmer snorted. “I take it he's got a bad sweet tooth?”

Haley flicked her hand at him, wearing a look that said she had been waiting to dish this piece of gossip. “You have no idea. Two years ago, during the valley fair, Vincent got his hands on one of Marnie’s double chocolate and fudge pound cakes without her knowing. She never noticed, and he ended up stealing, I think it was seven more? Anyways, the boy was so hopped up on sugar that he stole a sword and got into one of Marlon’s cages. Wanted to prove that he could be an explorer and kill the skeleton.”

“Oh my god,” The Farmer laughed. “How did Jodi take it?”

“Well she was all tears and worry until he was safe. Once he was out of the cage she grabbed his ear and dragged him all the way home in front of everyone. I think he’s technically still grounded.”

The Farmer chuckled, imagining what it must have looked like finding Vincent, barely two feet tall, ready to square off with the undead. “Maybe I could take him into the mines with me. Make him my protégé.”

“Good luck with that," Alex said, suddenly in front of them. He'd approached without The Farmer noticing, causing the injured man to jump at his voice. Alex took the glass of lemonade out of his hand and down the contents of the glass in a single gulp. "You’d have to have some serious charisma to convince Jodi to let him out of the house, let alone into the mines.”

The Farmer had nothing smart to say back. He’d been getting particularly good at witty remarks after having spent every day of the past month with Alex. However, trying to avoid any obvious staring took up most of his brain's current processing power. He simply nodded, taking the glass back and staring at the spot Alex had drank from.

Fortunately, Haley had him covered. She pinched her nose shut as she said, “Ugh, Alex, why don’t you go hang out with the animals or something? You reek of sweat.” Alex frowned at her, and then wiped the sweat from his forehead to flick at her. Haley recoiled. “Ah! Alex that’s gross!”

“Like you can complain. It’s like a hundred degrees and I’m the one who's actually working. You get to sit in the shade with the lemonade.”

“Actually,” The Farmer jumped in, “If you wanna wait until the sun goes down, you can muck out the chicken coop then. You'll be inside even. The heat has been causing the whole farm to stink up, and it's only going to get worse if we don't change out the hay soon.”

Alex turned his frown on The Farmer. “Oh, yeah perfect idea. ‘Go clean up chicken shit that reeks to high heaven. Isn’t that better than dying in the sun?’”

“It needs to be done eventually.”

Alex groaned, and continued to do so as he dropped himself face first onto the porch next to The Farmer. “How can two chickens produce so much shit?” His muffled voice spoke into the wood. “They eat like barely a handful of food a day.”

“Hey, hey,” The Farmer playfully poked Alex’s side. “No complaining mister. You can take a break after the chickens are properly cared for.”

Alex turned his head, so The Farmer could see his glare. “You’re relentless.”

“And you’re here of your own free will,” The Farmer smiled.

“Why sure, I’d love another glass,” Haley declared, pouring herself more lemonade. “I’m so glad you asked.”

The Farmer's eyes shot up to her, a small bit of panic rising in his throat like bile at the sound of her voice. She wasn't looking at them, and he hated that Haley's resting face was a natural poker face. He forgot she was here, and he'd totally been flirting with Alex just now. Had she caught on? Did she know? Who was she going to share this with? 

“Shut up and pour me a glass Haley,” Alex rolled onto his back and put an outstretched hand in Haley's direction. “I’m literally dying.”

“Don’t feel like it.”

The Farmer's phone suddenly buzzed, drawing his attention away from the pair. "I gotta take it," he said quickly, snatching it off the porch without looking at it. He hobbled inside as fast as his brace would let him, feeling Alex's eyes on his back as he did. The Farmer ignored Saber, who was lounging in front of the small fan, and retreated to his bedroom. He closed the door, maybe a little too forcefully, and rested his back against it. 

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' The word bounce against The Farmer's skull, repeating over and over inside his head. His heart pounded in his chest, making his head spin from his quickened pulse. He knew that Haley made that comment because she felt like the third wheel. Why the hell was he like this when he was around Alex? Was Haley jealous? They'd mentioned knowing each other for years, and while they didn't strike The Farmer as a couple, maybe they were something more? 

His phone buzzed in his hand again, giving him a brief respite from his thoughts. He opened the messaging app, reading over the messages. 

MOM: Hey honey, I haven't heard from you in a while. Just thought I would check in.

MOM: Your dad says he hasn't heard from you either.

FARM LIFE: Sorry mom, I'm fine but just really busy now.

The Farmer deposited the phone back in his pocket after typing his response, ignoring the buzz that came afterwards. He took a deep breath, willing his own pulse to slow with a silent, pleading prayer. 'I don't need to freak out,' he thought to himself. 'Give her the benefit of the doubt.' 

With another deep breath to steady himself, The Farmer opened his door and went back to join Alex and Haley, like everything was normal. 

It turned out that Haley wasn’t the farm’s only visitors that day. About an hour after Alex had started mucking out the chicken coop, Robin's voice interrupted Haley’s gossip. She, along with her family, made their way towards the cottage carrying a sofa between the four them. Sebastian was the only one not dressed for the weather; he apparently owned nothing but black hoodies and denim jeans. His face was red and drenched in sweat. It was obvious that Maru was carrying most of his share of the weight. The Farmer would have risen to join them, but given his present leg injury, he hoped they’d forgive him and opted instead to wave hello.

The family set the couch in front of him on the grass. Sebastian all but collapsed onto the deck, but not before snatching up the pitcher of lemonade and downing it, ice and all, in several massive gulps.

Haley watched him, morbid fascination coloring her expression. When he released the pitcher, Haley tentatively picked it up, as if she were approaching a wild animal and not a man suffering from heat stroke. “I guess I’ll refill this,” she said. Sebastian simply replied with a less than enthusiastic thumbs up and a mumble that was probably meant to be a ‘Thank you.’

Robin did not bother explaining nor defending her son's actions. She faced The Farmer and said. “So, where do you want this?”

The Framer raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Can’t you tell?” Maru said. “We didn't lug this thing all the way down the mountain for the hell of it. It's a gift!”

“Courtesy of Mayor Lewis.” Robin continued. “He was so ecstatic about a successful Luau. Apparently, the governor absolutely loved the fish that you had brought. So, once he was done kissing up, Lewis commissioned me to help fill out your place with some more furniture. Paid for the materials and everything.”

“My god,” The Farmer was taken aback. He was used to giving others gifts, but those were usually crops or flowers. A couch was on a whole different level. It was almost humbling. “It... It’s really mine?”

Robin beamed. “It really is! So, where do you want it?”

“Well, I guess in front of the fireplace. But you’ll have to move my table.”

He moved to stand, intending to direct the movement of furniture, but Robin put a hand out. “We can handle it. For now, just rest your leg.”

Her family, minus Sebastian who was left to sun-dry on the porch, picked up the couch with ease and disappeared into his home. Haley emerged a few moments later with a new pitcher of lemonade. With slightly more dignity, Sebastian took it from her hands and once again forewent a glass to drink directly from the source.

“Ah, it’s getting late,” Haley said, unable to look away from Sebastian. Her face colored with morbid curiosity. “I’m gonna take off. Tell Alex I’ll see him later.”

When Haley disappeared from sight, Maru and Demetrius emerged from the cottage with Robin behind. Maru nudged Sebastian with her foot, who had returned to lying face down on the porch. “Alright Mr. Heatstroke. Time to get you home before you actually die.”

Sebastian pulled himself to his feet in a sluggish manner that mad him resemble a waterlogged monster emerging from a well. He managed to say, “I’m fine,” before losing consciousness and collapsing. Luckily for him, Maru had anticipated this and crouched down to scoop him up in a fireman's hold.

Demetrius came out of the house with Robin. "We really should bring him by Harvey's." Demetrius said.

"He'll be fine." Robin waved off her husbands concern. "You two can go ahead and take off. I need a quick word with our resident farmer here."

The Farmer cast a curious glance at Robin before waving goodbye to her family.  Robin remained standing on the porch, arms crossed over her chest with a warm smile on her face. She said, “I hope you don’t mind me saying, but I’m glad you moved out here.”

The Farmer shot her a quizzical look. “Why?”

“When I first saw you step off that bus, I didn’t think you’d last a day. You looked exhausted and beaten down, in no way ready to take on a life that was sure to be full of hard labor. When you talked with others, you seemed hesitant to share anything.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. “But look at you now! Those bags under your eyes have lightened, you’re selling produce and raising chickens! You genuinely look much happier now. Not to mention you’re quickly turning into an attractive young man,” she added with a wink. "Give it a few more months and you'll start filling out with that farmers build." 

The Farmer blushed, looking away and scratching the side of his face. “Well, I’m glad I defied your expectations then.”

“You’d better keep it up! But keep out of trouble, or you end up with actual broken bones next time.” Robin’s expression suddenly sobered a bit during her pause. “Ah, I hope I'm not overstepping anything, but Lewis told me about how your grandfather passed away."

"Oh," The Farmer wasn't sure how else to respond to the topic change. It's not like it was anything new. It happened years ago. "He did?" 

Robin nodded and took a moment to sit down next to him. "When we were having drinks at the saloon once, Lewis admitted to me that he blamed himself. He said it was his fault that your grandfather wasn't around to share the drinks with us. He felt that he was too negligent and too distracted to realize your grandfather was working himself to death. A tragedy, that if he'd paid closer attention, he could have probably avoided."

"I had no idea that Lewis felt that way," The Farmer said. Looking back, it made sense. He had always assumed that when Lewis went out of his way to invite The Farmer to the festivals and offering to cover the occasional meal at the Saloon was just his way of being friendly. 

"Oh yeah, the two of them were close, you know? I think that's why he took such a shine to you when you first got here, and why he's always coming by to check up on you. Maybe he thinks of you as his own grandson, you know? I didn't know your grandfather as well as Lewis did, but I can tell you inherited some recklessness from him." Robin trailed off, and then placed a hand on The Farmer's shoulder. When he met her eyes, they were soft and genuine.  "Take care of yourself, okay? If you ever need a home-cooked meal or someone to talk to, our doors are always open.”

The Farmer thought's drifted back on his grandfather. When he had been alive, he was the only one living in the cottage. Yet he never once showed a sign of loneliness. Maybe that was because he had people like Lewis back in his life. With a smile, he placed his hand over hers. “Thank you, Robin.”

Robin grinned and ruffled his hair one more time. "Anything for our local farmer!" 

The Wizard stormed about his tower, needing to vent his anger. He made the door to his cellar fly open with a flick of his fingers and stepped over the hole. He floated into the subterranean room while muttering angrily to himself, “Straight up ignore me for four chapters why don’t you?”

He ignored the magic mirrors that he had been forced to set up years before for the purpose of The Farmer—had The Farmer any desire to alter his appearance—and made for another door. It was covered in brightly colored hazard signs that used to hang on Sam’s bedroom door. He didn’t steal them, just waited until they had been thrown out after the man had moved on from his edgy teenager phase. Inside were some of his more volatile potions; the effects of which ranged from forgetting parts of your basic vocabulary, to a week-long case of spinach being caught in your teeth.

“Why don't you fuck around and see what happens when you ignore me for too long, I dare you.” The Wizard's voice was rising as he talked to himself, growing angrier every second. “So what if I’m not a love interest? I was a candidate for romancing The Farmer before the first update. But no, everyone was head-over-heels for the sad, alcoholic, chicken man. New flash, you can't just stuff the man full of beer, pepper poppers, and pizza to fix him!” He threw open the door with his own hands rather than his magic, just to be dramatic. 

Inside the closet, were not only his where his carefully labeled and organized curse-filled jars, but many small and colorful visitors.  Nestled among the shelving were an infestation of Junimos. A few were already holding some jars with their grubby little hands.

For a second, the air was heavy with silence.

Then one of the Junimos screamed. “RUN!!!”

A chorus of horrified screaming filled the air. Shattered glass accented the screaming as jars where dropped, thrown, and knocked to the floor by the panic.  As the curses were liquefied curses seeped across the floor, they bubbled and steamed as if boiling, filling the room with smoke as the Junimos flooded out. The Wizard was knocked off his feet and carried away by the wave of panicked spirits that pushed him back towards the cellar’s ladder.

“Wait,” his cries falling on deaf ears. “I need to go back! You're going to blow us all sky high!”

The Junimos ignored him. Trying and failing to scale the ladder in their panic, they looked like a colorful wave crashing against a seawall. The Wizard eventually found his own footing, and was able to focus enough to conjure his magic to propel himself into the air. He turned his attention immediately towards the curse closet they had poured out of, but dread set in as he realized he was too late.  Rainbow colored smoke was bubbling out of the closet, rumbling with the same ferocity as a full-on thunderstorm.

“Brace yourselves!” The Wizard shouted.

There were several, explosive bangs, and then smoke rushed forward, filling the air with the sounds that grated against The Wizard’s ears. He heard an out of tune band playing Pomp and Circumstance, the ABC's sung in reverse by an old woman, and then a very flat rendition of a K-Pop song sang with a heavy French accent all at once. Thick ropes grappled his limbs, and he was thrown about like a rag doll. Vertigo overtook him, and it was challenging to summon enough willpower to keep the contents of his stomach from ejecting.

Suddenly the ropes went taunt, and The Wizard was suspended mid-air by the ropes. The dizziness stopped around the same time the smoke cleared, which was longer than he would have like. The Wizard found that he'd been suspended upside down above his cauldron. His hat was currently sinking into green goop that bubbled there. "Yoba damnit!" He cursed. "That was my favorite hat." 

The music and signing had also faded away with the smoke, but the Junimos were still screaming. A quick glance around the room told The Wizard that it had been vines, not ropes, that had grabbed him. They now covered a vast majority the interior of his home and having punched themselves through his furniture. Several bookshelves lay shattered with their content spilled across the cold stone floor. Sprinkled among the vines at random intervals were the Junimos, tied up and squeezed tightly by the plant. There were also flowers that blossomed along the vines that had razor sharp teeth among their petals. They curled inwards to form grotesque smiles as they sung. 

“Oh look, you’re upside-down.

But don’t blame us, for getting turned around.

We’re just here to have some fun,

Along with ev-ery-one.

Don’t lose your head and have a meltdown!”

Giggles filled the air and The Wizard was filled with annoyance as he realized the flowers were talking to him. Worse yet, they were speaking in poetry. “I hate bad limericks.” The Wizard sighed. Then summoning magic to his throat, he yelled.

"SILENCE" 

His booming voice filled the air, echoing across the stone and shaking the tower. Flowers and Junimo alike fell silent, all turning to The Wizard. His eyebrow twitched when he continued. “Look at what you’ve done to my house! Why in Yoba's name were you meddlesome spirits rummaging around my basement?”

“We needed a potion!” Said one.

“Don’t tell him!” Another yelled.

“But maybe he can help us,” said yet another. “We can’t get out of these vines.”

“And you think he can?”

“I can,” The Wizard huffed. “I can do it in a blink of an eye.”

“I don’t believe you,” several of the Junimo yelled back.

The Wizard inhaled heavily and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he had been righted and was now standing next to his cauldron, rather than hovering over it. There was a glass bottle in his hand with a single razor-toothed flower in it. He held it up with a smile. “See?”

“Then get us out of here!” An Orange Junimo screamed from its spot pinned against a bookshelf.

The Wizard waved his hand, and parts of the room nearest him started to reorganize and fix itself. He then tossed the bottle across the room where it flew down the hatch to the basement to be returned to the curse closet. “And why should I do that? You broke into my home, intended to steal my property, then caused this disaster.” He threw his hand out, referring to the vines that still covered the rest of the tower. “Next time you want to commit breaking and entry, I suggest you practice some stealth first. ”

“Hey, we're great at breaking and entering, and stealing!” A Yellow Junimo protested. “We steal The Mayor’s lucky shorts every week and he still doesn’t realize it!”

“To be fair he leaves them everywhere,” A Blue Junimo added quietly.

“Quiet!” The Wizard snapped. “Unless you give me a valid reason to let you down in the next ten seconds, I’m going to leave you attached to the walls and force you to listen to limericks the rest of your lives. It’ll certainly make studying you easier.”

“There is only one way to quell the beast,

Most times you must stuff it with a feast!

Better think quick!

Jump on a pogo stick!

Lest you all are turned to yeast!”

The Wizard pinched his temples together and muttered, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

"Well what were you even doing in the curse closet then?" A Red Junimo called out. 

"I was looking for a curse to stir up problems in The Farmer digestive system." The Wizard admitted. "This romance is annoying enough as it is. I figured if I could make him go running for the bathroom every time he so much as had a romantic thought, it'd be a small win for me." 

"No!" Every Junimo screamed out in unison. 

The Wizard paused. His curiosity peeked. "And why do you all suddenly care about The Farmer's love life?"

The spirits quietly muttered amongst themselves until one voice spoke above the rest. “We want make a deal with you."

The Wizard looked up. The voice belonged to a White Junimo, slightly larger than the rest. “If you let us down and assist us, we will answer any questions you have and allow you to study us.”

“You would ask me a favor, after you destroy my home?”

The Junimo looked almost ashamed, but it was hard to tell since the features of its face were unable to move. “Please, we need your help.”

The Wizard sighed but closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the tower was back to normal. Glass bottles filled with identical flowers hovered around him. With a flourish of his wrist, the bottles all floated towards the basement and disappeared. The Junimos were gathered against the wall opposite of The Wizard. He crossed over to his cauldron, a few of the spirits approaching him as he did. They were colored White, Red, Blue, Yellow, and Orange.

Red was apparently the bravest, leaping onto The Wizard’s shoulder and peering into the cauldron. “What type of magic do you specialize in anyways?”

“Plot convenience.” The Wizard made a swipe at Red, but the Junimo had reflexes like a horsefly. It was already safely out of reach when The Wizards empty hand reached his shoulder. He sighed, “So, why did you need my help?”

White stepped forward; it held a small twig in its hands, like a walking stick. “We have concerns about our future in this town. We were on the edge of extinction only two months ago, but then The Hero appeared and began rekindling this town's connection with nature.” Its voice was old and raspy, probably one of the elders. Can Junimos actually age? The Wizard would have to add that to his research. 

“The Hero?” The Wizard asked. 

White reached out its hand. “Here.”

The Wizard took it, and he had a vision. He saw a young man he was familiar with, but obviously from the past. The man's hair was disheveled and greasy. He snored on the couch with his button-up shirt only halfway taken off. His pants sat in a pile near the wall, leaving him in just his underwear. He snored and then rolled onto the floor. The fall however, didn't wake him and he continued to snore. Nearby, tied up garbage bags were piled up in the hallway near the door and the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes and empty boxes of Chinese takeout. 

White pulled its arm away, and the vision broke. 

“You mean The Farmer?” The Wizard asked.

White nodded. “We can only exist if our home remains close to nature and the residents keep a close relationship with us. We used to keep our contract with The Hero's ancestor, but he grew old and sick and was unable to keep his promise. As he died, he assured us that one day his descendant would appear and protect us.”

“But there have been problems." Blue said. 

"What kind of problems."

"There has been a demon that is tearing apart our home.” White said, and then reached out and touched The Wizard's hand again. This time, the vision he saw was of Morris, to local Joja Mart manager, standing in the community center. He was holding a hammer behind his back and walked leisurely about the building. He suddenly came to a stop and then drove the hammer into part of the sheetrock several times. Morris looked very shocked at the hole, like he hadn't just created it. He tutted, shook his head, and left muttering about how the old building would fall in on itself one of these days. This vision repeated in The Wizard’s head, with Morris continuing to slowly desecrate the community center day by day.

“And you meant to kill this demon?”

“Oh heavens no,” White said. “We are peaceful spirits.”

The Wizard shot it a look of doubt. “Then why were you in my dangerous potions closet?”

“We were looking for something to scare him away.” Yellow explained. “It’ll take time for us to regain our connection with the valley. Even with The Hero’s help, it may take several years.”

“If that demon continues to destroy our home every night, it won’t stand for several weeks.” Orange said.

The Wizard stroked his beard. “I suppose I can cook up a warding potion. Something that will turn him away every time he tries to enter the building.”

“We would be most grateful if you could,” White said. 

"So. What does this have to do with The Farmer's love life?"

White was quiet for a moment. “It would be easier to show you. Are you able to conjure an image of The Hero, right now?”

The Wizard waved his hand over the cauldron. The bubbling green liquid gave way, rippling into a clearer image of the farm. It was sunset now, and the image focused in on The Farmer speaking to Alex. They couldn’t hear what was being said, but both men appeared to be enjoying themselves. The several Junimos leapt up to the edge of the pot—Orange almost fell in.

The Wizard sneered into the cauldron. "Disgusting. Look at them flirting so blatantly." 

“That's what we want." White said.

The Wizard glared at White. "What do you mean?"

"Our last guardian did a wonderful job of looking over us. He had friends in the valley, but no companion or family that was always by his side and look over him. Therefore, we wish to give The Hero a partner, to help ensure he does not repeat the same mistake,” White said. “We would need assistance in nurturing his bond with the candidates." 

“Candidates?” The Wizard looked back at the cauldron. 

Red spoke up. “The Hero also has ties with many in the valley. The Athlete, The School Teacher, The Craftswoman, The Photographer, and The Mayor. Each of them love the hero in some way or another, but not in the way a partner would."

"That's why we want to make one of the villagers his companion!" Green said. 

"We also wish to nurture his relationship with the rest of the villagers." White explained. "While a companion is our goal, he would also benefit from having close ties with the whole town. The more people that care for him, the better he will be looked after. Some of us will focus on the candidates, while the rest of us will focus on trying to help The Hero cultivate friendships with those that he does not yet have a bond with.”

The Wizard crossed his arms. “You know, you all have good intentions, but if you’re gonna go pick out a romantic partner for The Farmer, you should at least keep in mind his preference.”

“Preference for what?” Orange asked.

“For,” The Wizard stopped, realizing he was giving nature spirits the birds and the bees talk. He sighed but continued. “Most humans have preference when it comes to their companions gender. Some prefer to have partners of the opposite gender, some don’t consider gender to affect their choice of a partner, and some feel like they don’t need a partner. As for The Farmer, he prefers partners of the same gender.”

“So he’s gay?” Green asked.

“It’s 2017,” Blue exclaimed. “They’re all gay. Get with the program.”

The Wizard brought his hands to his head and massaged his temples. Clearly, they were more up to speed on human culture than he thought, but he didn’t want to bother finding out how much they knew. He was getting a migraine and was afraid the conversation would last for several more pointless paragraphs. He sighed again.

“Fine, I’ll help you." He then added, muttering to himself, "But only because I know the author won't let me get away with sabotaging The Farmer's love life."

"What was that?" White asked.

The Wizard snapped his fingers, and a piece of parchment floated down and covered the Junimos face. "I said, you need to gather some ingredients for me."

 Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 26th

The Farmer’s first thought after taking the brace off, was that standing on both feet again was the worst. Harvey had assured him that his ankle was fully healed, but it felt stiff and awkward thanks to the brace preventing him from using it for an entire month. He felt like a penguin while hobbling out of the clinic and was grateful that Maru kept her laughter silent.

It was late, but there was still at least an hour before anyone would dare say the sun was setting. The air had finally started to lose its thick humidity and the nights carried the faintest hint of a chill to them. Pelican Town was mostly empty and quiet when The Farmer left the clinic. The only unsightly exception to that was Morris, standing in front of JojaMart with a megaphone.

“Are you sick of living outside of the delivery area for pizza?” Morris bellowed, “Well no worries! Introducing Joja’s new line of frozen pizza. ‘It’s Not Delivery, It’s Joja!’”

The Farmer had half a mind to use his newfound mobility to cross the cobblestone bridge and beat Morris with his own megaphone. He was pretty sure that since there wasn’t a police station in Pelican Town, the police duties fell on Lewis. He was also pretty sure that if push came to shove, he had bribed Lewis with enough crops to get out of any assault charges.

Ultimately, he decided it wasn’t worth his time. A walk would probably be a better use of his time, that way he could regain a proper sense of how to use his foot. He glanced around, deliberating which route he’d take home. His eyes fell on Alex’s house.

Oh right. I guess I should let Alex know my leg is better.

His pace was deliberately slow, and not just because of his ankle. The thought of telling Alex he no longer needed to come over was a depressing one. Now that The Farmer could resume solo work, would Alex have any more reason to visit? The Farmer shook his head. Of course Alex would still visit. They were friends.

“That’s a good boy, Dusty.”

The Farmer halted. He was behind the Saloon, just within sight of Dusty’s dog pen. It had been Alex’s voice he had heard. While he'd grown much more familiar with the mans voice over the last few weeks, the heaviness the heard now was foreign to him. He inched as silently as he could to the edge of the building, spying Alex sitting cross-legged in the dirt with his back to The Farmer. The old dog was draped across Alex’s lap, tail sifting back and forth in the dirt happily from receiving scratches behind the ear.

Alex muttered to the dog, “You might be the only one around here who understands me. No one else has seen the kind of stuff that you and I have.” He sighed heavily. “I hate this time of year.”

Dusty’s eyes opened, spotting The Farmer. The dog gave a small huff of recognition, and Alex turned. The Farmer’s heartbeat spiked, feeling as if he had just been caught eavesdropping on a private conversation. He stepped out before Alex’s eyes fell on him, trying his best to not look like he was hiding.

“Oh.” Alex’s eyes shimmered in the setting sun, like he'd been close to tears. The sight drove a nail into The Farmer’s stomach.

Alex turned away, quickly rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket before speaking. “Did you overhear me talking to Dusty?”

The Farmer turned his gaze to the ground, a guilty feeling stabbing at his gut. He’d already been spotted. It was probably best to own up to it. “Ah, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”

“It’s okay,” Alex said softly. "I was just...just venting I guess."

The Farmer glanced back up at Alex. He'd resumed slowly petting Dusty, scratching behind the dogs ears with a somber look in his eye. Hesitantly, The Farmer walked over to Alex, deciding to silently sit in the dirt next to the other man. When he did, Dusty leaned over and licked The Farmer’s hand. The dog had a rather content look on his face when The Farmer also gave the dog a scratch behind the ear.

"Have you ever wondered why I lived with my grandparents?” Alex said. 

“Sometimes,” The Farmer admitted. “But I didn’t want to pry.”

Alex didn’t respond to that. He resumed petting Dusty, as if the physical contact helped him sort his thoughts. “My father wasn’t a good guy… He… Well, he ruined everything for me and my mom. Half the time he was gone and the other half waste all his money drinking at the bar. He'd wake up when he got home just to tell me that I'm worthless and that I’d never amount to anything." 

"O-Oh my god, Alex." The Farmer said quickly, all other words failing him.  "I don't know what to say. I'm sorry." 

Alex shrugged, eyes transfixed on Dusty. "It's fine. He hasn't been apart of my life for a long time. I think he did it because resented me for being young… Bitter because he’d wasted his youth doing nothing and had gotten nowhere in life.” Alex’s voice dropped to a mutter, adding, “But who knows what that bastard was thinking.”

The Farmer wasn’t sure what to say, but he didn’t want there to be silence between them right now. “Can I ask why you thought that?”

Alex shrugged again. “I played little league gridball when I still lived with my parents. Everyone was always praising me and telling my dad what a success I’d be when I was grown up. I’d never seen him do anything worthwhile, so seeing his own kid be so successful might’ve pissed him off.”

“Did he…” The Farmer stopped himself. He didn’t want to pry too deep, so decided to change the question. “What about your mother?”

Alex’s expression softened before he spoke, a smile almost touching his lips. “She was great. Loving, kind, patient, everything and more that a mom should be. But since my father didn’t have a job, she’d be out working all day and night to support her son and piece of shit husband. Eventually...she overworked herself.”

The Farmer stiffened. Everything began clicking into place, like two blank puzzle pieces that had finally come together.

Alex continued. “When she collapsed and was brought to the hospital, my father walked out. Not that him being there would have helped. He didn’t have money to pay the bills, and even if he did… I remember the doctors saying there was nothing they could do. Her immune system had been weakened too much to fight her sickness. I had no choice but to move in with my grandparents.”

The Farmer could feel his pulse in his eardrums. It felt like this was the first time Alex was showing his real self to him, finally dropping the persona of that arrogant jock he carried himself as. The Farmer recalled Alex’s cryptic comment from the Luau and reached out for Alex’s hand. At the last second, he changed course and laid his own hand on Alex’s forearm. He gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Alex didn’t react or say anything about the contact. Instead he said, “What are your parents like?”

The Farmer retracted his hand and granted Alex the shift in attention. “Well, they’re in a house off in the suburbs, old and as happy as they can be. My mom’s an office worker and my dad works in an auto shop. You already know I didn’t do well in following my mom’s footsteps, and I never had a knack for grease and metal.  So, I guess I inherited my green thumb from my grandpa.”

“My grandpa mentions him from time to time,” Alex said. “I know he lived out here for a long time. Were you two close?”

“I spent a lotta summers out here as a kid. It's kinda weird, thinking that the cottage is mine now. It still feels like I'm just a guest and that he's going to come in the front door and ask what I want for dinner.” The Farmer instinctively reached up to his forehead and brushed the skin below his bangs. “But after a while my mom stopped bringing me out here. That is, until he passed away.” The Farmer looks down. “I miss him, he was honestly more of a parent to me than my own parents were.”

“How so?” Alex prompted after a moment of silence.

“Well, my parents always made sure I was cared for, but sometimes it felt like they weren't invested in me. No cheering mom on the edge of the soccer field, no dad urging me to join the gridball team. They were always so wrapped up in their own ambitions, that our relationship felt more like we were roommates than a couple of parents and their child. I know I haven’t told them about me being gay, but I don’t think they even have the slightest idea.” The Farmer chuckled, despite the hollow feeling that was beginning to gnaw at his chest. “I was shit roommate though. Never paid rent, never did any of the cooking, and always made them clean up after me.”

Alex shared The Farmer’s smile, but there was no light in his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to touch on a sore subject.”

The Farmer shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this conversation about me.”

“It’s cool. I asked about your family anyways. I decided long ago not to dwell on my parents.” Alex rubbed Dusty a little more aggressively. “Dusty here was with me through most of my childhood. He’s helped me through thick and thin.”

The Farmer reached out and scratched under Dusty’s chin, and he swore the dog smiled. “Well then, this dog deserves all the head scratches that he wants.”

“Yeah,” Alex agreed. Then, to The Farmer. “Ah, thanks for listening. I didn’t mean to unload, but you seem like the type of person that won’t give me useless pity because of it.” Alex gently nudged Dusty off of his lap and stood. He offered a hand to The Farmer with a smile. “I decided long ago I don’t want sympathy from anyone. If anything, my shitty childhood made me stronger.”

The Farmer took Alex’s hand, but the other man’s smile upset him. It was the smile Alex always wore, and now a sign that he was slipping back into his persona and closing himself off. The thought unsettled The Farmer. A few days ago, heck a few weeks ago, he’d begun to think he’d finally started understanding Alex. But these last five minutes proved he’d barely scratched the surface.

The thought of them going back to having whatever relationship they did at the start of summer tied The Farmer's stomach in a knot. He didn't want them to be courteous and kind, like strangers passing on the street. Even though he was sure that Alex would never reciprocate his childish crush, he wanted to be true and open with Alex. Like real friends were. So he swallowed the lump of hesitation in his throat.

"Actually Alex, think it's made you kinder." 

Alex's mask cracked as curiosity ran through it. "What do you mean?" 

"You were dealt a pretty terrible hand at a young age. With your childhood, I'm honestly surprised you didn't become this cold and jaded asshole that looks at everything like it's out to get you. Instead, you're still the first one to reach out and offer assistance like you did with me. You didn't even know me then, and I could have easily turned out to have the same personality as your dad. I could have easily taken advantage of your generosity, but you still offered anyways. That's testament to how much kindness you have." 

Alex blinked, and then a pink tint rose in his cheeks. "Geeze man, way to lay it on thick," he said bashfully, not meeting The Farmer's eyes. His eyes wandered, and he noticed the other man's leg and quickly changed the subject. "Hey, you're not wearing a brace anymore.”

“Yeah.” The Farmer stuck his foot out and shook it a little bit, granting Alex the topic change again. His own heart was beating a little fast, getting stupidly excited over seeing this side of Alex for the first time. “Harvey says it’s good as new.”   

“That’s great!” Then Alex’s expression transitioned to a small frown. “Oh. I guess that means I won’t have to come over tomorrow.”

The Farmer nodded. There was an awkward silence and both men wore smiles that wouldn't reach their eyes. When they looked at each other, The Farmer's mind raced. The mood of the conversation had shifted so quickly in last few minutes, he didn't even know what to say. It didn't help that Morris continued to scream about pizzas in the background like a broken record. The Farmer was again contemplating how much he’d enjoy punching his ex-boss, but the gremlin was saved by Dusty. The dog whimpered, nudging his head against Alex’s hand.

“Oh, sorry boy.” Alex patted Dusty’s head and explained, “I usually give him a bit of steak for a treat whenever I make him listen to me. You should see the tricks he’ll do for a whole one.” There was a sudden surge of energy behind Alex’s eyes. “Hey, I’ve got an idea! You’re not gonna be too busy tomorrow, right?”

“No. Mostly just looking after the chickens. I’ll wait until the day after to harvest.”

“Perfect! We should celebrate you getting off the crutches.” Alex beat a hand to his chest. “Just leave the planning to me. Send me a text when you’re done working, okay?”

The Farmer nodded, “Sure.”

Alex left then, taking Dusty inside with him. The Farmer waited until the door closed, then he started heading home himself. He busied his mind by replaying their conversation in his mind, wondering what if he could have done anything differently. He was so caught up in his own thoughts however, that he didn't notice the three Junimos sitting in the nearby tree and feverishly taking notes in a freshly stolen notebook. 

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 27th

Red, Orange, and Yellow huddled together in the shadow of a gravestone. The sky above was still dark, but the horizon was turning pink, warning the spirits to the approach of the rising sun. The manhole cover to the sewers was pushed aside and the darkness within was suffocating to look at.

“I had to get the garlic oil and void egg,” Yellow hissed to its fellow Junimos. “I can’t go in there. Orange should have to do it.”

“Why can’t Red do it?” Orange exclaimed. “Do you know how long I had to wait for fresh cow dung and a slime egg? I’ll smell just as bad.”

“The candidate plan was my plan so I shouldn't have to go in!” Red protested. "I'm the mastermind, so I can't get hurt.”

“So what, I’m less important than you two?” Orange protested. 

“Yes!” Red and Yellow yelled in unison before shoving Orange towards the sewer entrance.  Orange tumbled head over feet, coming to a stop at the very edge of the open manhole. Orange cartwheeled its small arms in an attempt to not fall in, failed, and then disappeared into the sewers.

Red flinched slightly when it heard Orange’s body hit the bottom. “You think Orange’s okay?”

Yellow waved off the concern with its hand. “Orange’ll be fine. I mean, we’ve got the void egg right here.” Waving its hand again, Yellow pulled a black egg flecked with glowing red spots out of thin air. The egg vibrated angrily in Yellow’s hands, and the faint sounds of death metal and sea shanties rattled from inside the shell.

Red looked at the egg, and then back at Yellow. “You mean to say you still have the gift.”

“Yep!”

“Orange doesn’t have the gift because you never gave it to Orange.”

“Yep.”

“And we just sent Orange to face the monster without the gift?”

Yellow's unmoving face stared off into the distance. It set the egg down gently and then took a few steps backwards, looking down at the egg as it did. “We did.”

Red’s body fell face first into the dirt. “Oh Yoba, White's gonna kill me. We just murdered Orange.”

Meanwhile, down in the sewers, Orange had rolled away from the site of impact and into the darkness. The sewers had no lighting, save from the occasional overhead grate that let in the early morning sunlight. It took a minute for the Junimo to regain its sense of balance. During that minute, Orange came to the realization that it was looking at everything upside down. Having a cube-shaped body came with its disadvantages sometimes.

Once right-side up, Orange looked around for the monster. In order to complete their warding potion for the red-necked devil, The Wizard had warned them that they would need to get the void and solar essences carried by shadow brutes. He told them about one that lived in the sewers, fearful of sunlight. While this one was usually friendly, if its safety felt threatened, it would attack.

“Hello?” Orange called out. “Mr. Krobus? We need ask you a favor!”

Two torches burst to life behind Orange. The Junimo jumped and cried out as more torches along the wall came to light with a loud ‘whoosh.’ Living shadows suddenly jumped from the flames, taking up residence along the sewer walls. They took the shapes of various animals and started to dance immediately across the walls and floor—several bears were doing the Shriller, a group of chickens were recreating scenes from The Brunch Club, and the shark near Orange’s feet was giving its best attempt at dancing The Sprinkler.

Several feet away, a darker shadow rose from the ground. This one was not dancing, it's body slightly translucent. The top of its head had a small wisp of shadow that looked similar to a human baby's cowlick. “You carry the scent of the dwarf on you,” Krobus said. “Why have you come? Was it to kill me?”

“No, no, no!” Orange waved its hands back and forth in front of its body. “We have come to make a purchase from your shop.”

Krobus tilted its head to the side. “But I can sense no gold on you, small spirit. How do you intend to buy?”

“I meant a trade!” Orange corrected itself. It was hard to stay focused on the task at hand, given it could still see the dancing squad of shadow bears—now performing the ending credits dance from Loosefoot—through Krobus’ body. They were surprisingly good, and Orange had the desire to stay here and watch them instead.

“A trade,” Krobus echoed. “And what do you intend to trade for?”

“We need essence, solar and void!” Orange said quickly. “And in exchange, we bring you a void egg.” Orange waved its hand, and an egg appeared before it. The shadows stopped dancing suddenly, and Orange was overcome with a suffocating sense of dread as the spirit realized it was holding a slime egg, and not a void egg. The green goo dripped from the egg, down Orange's short arms, and splattered onto the floor.

'Ah, so this is how I die,' Orange thought. It had brought a monster spawn egg to a monster that detested fighting. There was no coming back from this. 

From above near the opening for the manhole, Red suddenly chucked the Void Egg at Orange. It whistled through the air and then ricocheted off of Orange’s face and into its hands. It replaced the Slime Egg, which in turn went flying into the air over the waterway. At the peak of the egg's flight, a massive green fish with human-like eyes leapt into the air and swallowed the egg. The fish laughed a very human sounding laugh and then disappeared back into the water.

Orange was very thankful it didn’t have a nose, but its face still throbbed in pain. “I-I offer this humble gift for exchange,” Orange said. It hoped that Krobus would also just pretend that the events of the last fifteen seconds had never happened.

Krobus said nothing. A few seconds passed, and then the dancing shark leapt out of the ground and swallowed the egg from Orange’s hands. Shark and egg dissolved back into shadows and swam towards Krobus to join the shadow brute. The egg rose to the center of Krobus’ body, where it then separated perfectly in half.  

The death metal sea shanties played out in full volume. The walls reverberated with the voices of Irish sailors knocking dust lose from from the ceiling. Every shadow animal broke out into a simultaneous rendition of The Sugar Plum Ogre, perfectly in time with the beating drums and bass line.

Krobus nodded its head, and the egg inside its body sealed itself, silencing the music. “This is acceptable,” it said. Two shadow sharks descended from Krobus’ body, carrying the glowing essences. They swam swiftly towards Orange, leapt into the air, and deposited the items into the Junimos outstretched hands.  

“Thank you, Mr. Krobus!” Orange bowed several times. Orange waved its hands in the air, making the two essences disappear. “Oh thank you so much! You truly are too kind, the most benevolent of all monsters.” Before any of the dancing shadows or Krobus could change their minds, Orange rushed towards the ladder and scrambled up to the safety of daylight.

Red and Yellow were at the edge of the graveyard, hiding in a nearby bush and waving for Orange to follow.

"So are we not going to talk about how you basically just sent me to my death?" Orange hissed when it joined them.

"It worked out fine in the end, didn't it?" Yellow said.

"You can complain later," Red said, peering out of the north side of the bush. "It's almost dawn. We got to go soon if we don't want to be spotted."

With only the minimal grumbling, Orange followed Red and Yellow through town towards the safety of the community center. However, they quickly encountered their first obstacle.  The Bartender was awake early today, cleaning up the front of his shop with a broom and dustpan. Red threw out both of its hands to halt its companions, then made overly complicated hand gestures to direct them to the two homes at the edge of town. They’d have to make their way back through the safety of the bushes on the far side of the town square. Orange and Yellow followed quickly, keeping to the pre-dawn shadows of the houses.

Right as they approached the two homes, the ground beneath them rumbled. It rumbled with the faint familiarity of the death metal sea shanties from the Void Egg they had just left with Krobus. The window of one of the homes was thrown open, and the Junimos dove into a nearby bush.

“SAM!” The Photographer screamed from her open window. “It’s not even six a.m. yet! If you don’t turn that crap down I’m going to shove the broken remains of your guitar down your throat!”

The window of the opposite house flew open, and The Musician screamed back. “It’s not me Haley, scream at someone else!”

“Oh like any other wannabe could produce music sounding that bad!”

“Like you could ever do anything better!”

"You wouldn't know music if it punched you in the face!"

The shouting match continued, and the sun was getting higher with every passing moment. Red was nudged by Yellow. “We should go now while they’re distracted,” The Junimo hissed. “They might be at this for a while.”

“Are you sure they won’t see us?” Orange whispered back.

Red dared a look beyond the leaf it was hiding behind. The Photographer was already halfway climbing out of her window, ready to propel herself across the gap and into the other house to strangle the other human.  The Musician was cradling his guitar like a newborn while he shouted back at her. “I agree with Yellow. The longer we stay, the greater the risk is of them seeing us.”

Orange shifted nervously but didn’t offer further protest. They went one at a time, Yellow first, and then Red, both making it to safety without any difficulty. Orange stood at the ready, watching for Yellow to signal when it was safe to cross. Yellow’s arm was raised, and Orange’s vision singled in, waiting for it to drop.

But the drop never came. Instead, Yellow’s face became covered in fear, and it began to wave its arms frantically back and forth. Red quickly followed suit. Both were gesturing wildly for Orange to run. And then, answering the question Orange had yet to ask, a branch snapped. Slowly, Orange turned and came face to face with it.

The Beast.

All subtlety was thrown to the wind. Orange let loose the shrillest of screams and ran from the bushes.

Haley and Sam both froze at the sound of the screaming, looking down and finding Saber charging after three blocky creatures in the small space between their houses.

Haley's mouth hung open, watching bizarrely as Saber swallowed one whole. “What the hell is The Farmer's cat doing out here? And what is it eating?”

In the next instant, there was a loud 'SNAP!' and The Wizard appeared between the two houses. Both Haley and Sam started screaming, but with a quick snap of his fingers, both blonds fell unconscious. Sam hit the floor, cradling his guitar and sucking his thumb while Haley’s limp body hung from the open windowsill like a ragdoll.

The Wizard sighed loudly. His eyes were shut, and mouth turned down into a very tight frown. He was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, as if suffering from a sinus infection. “These things are going to give me a permanent migraine," The Wizard complained. He opened his eyes and glared at the hunched over form of Saber. "Hey you, beast!”

The cat looked up, his cheeks comically overstuffed and squirming like a cartoon character.

“Come here and spit that out.”

Saber of course didn't care what The Wizard wanted. He turned and started to run, but with a flick of his wrist, The Wizard sent a now very alarmed cat into the air. Saber flailed about as he flew before The Wizard, coming to be held by the scruff of his neck by an invisible hand. Cat and man stared off, both looking equally annoyed.

“Spit that out right now,” The Wizard scolded.

Saber shook his head vigorously.

The Wizard raised his hand, fingers ready to snap at any moment. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Well, this will be easy for me either way. But I like to give individuals a choice before I have to use my magic. I hear it can be unpleasant.”

Saber glared at the fingers, tail flicking in annoyance. The Wizard raised his hand higher, cocking an eyebrow as high as possible to try and look as intimidating as possible. Another second passed, a growl came from deep within the cats throat, and then Saber spit the Junimo out. Orange crashed into the ground and tumbled across the dirt, drenched in saliva. Red and Yellow rushed over from their hiding spot to assist their friend, crying joyfully.

“Thanks you for your compliance," The Wizard gave the cat a sickly-sweet smile. "That wasn't so hard, now was it? Why don’t you go and do something useful, like waking up your caregiver. After all, he has the very important,” The Wizard made a disgusted scowl, as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth, “beach episode scheduled today.”

The Wizard made a sweeping motion with his hands. Saber was abruptly shot into air. The feline flew over the forest towards the farm—screaming in panic the entire way.

At The Wizards feet, the three Junimos were bowing repeatedly at him, as if they were primitives worshiping a god. “Oh thank you,” Red cried out in joy. “Thank you for your mercy!”

To The Wizard, their praise was very underwhelming. He gave a uncaring glance at Haley and Sam, who where both now snoring loudly. “You gave me no choice, these two weren't supposed to find out about you. Not yet at least. Couldn't you have, I don't know, just taken the long way around instead of being dramatic?" 

“But we needed to get the ingredients to you,” Yellow said. "We got the void egg this morning!"

The Wizard sighed again. “But if you don’t want the humans to see you, then wait until after dark to come see me. Until then,” The Wizard flicked his hand up. The Junimos all quickly rose into the air until they were eye level with him. “I’ll send you home. Try to not get into anymore trouble.” The three spirits shot off towards the community center, yelling their thanks as they did.

The Wizard cast glances at the two villagers again. He really just wanted to leave where they were, but that annoying little thing of a conscience got the better of him. He closed his eyes, imagined them both tucked into bed and sleeping peacefully, unable to hear the egg-centric concert currently performing under their feet. When he opened his eyes, everything was exactly as he imagined. Finally, as a last-minute thought, although truthfully it was more of a whim born of boredom, he produced a bottle from his robe. The contents of the bottle were a single, toothed flower, silently giggling. The Wizard tossed it through Sam’s open window, where it shattered. Broken glass and flower dissolved instantly, creating a small, glittering cloud of red and white.  The cloud settled gently over Same's head and pillow before disappearing.

The Wizard had never heard Sam play his music before, but surely the boy could benefit from a poetry-speaking flower whispering to him as he slept.

After all, what’s the worst that could happen?  

FARM LIFE: I’m all done with my daily work.

ALEX: Finally, I was done setting up ages ago

FARM LIFE: In my defense I’ve been off-duty for several weeks. I had to relearn how to do my job.

ALEX: Bro, your job is so easy I could do it without experience =P

ALEX: Just come down to the beach asap!

The Farmer pocketed his phone, smiling to himself slightly as he walked through town. Texting with Alex had put him in a good mood, despite the rude awakening he received this morning. Saber had apparently decided that he was no longer a cat was now a rooster. Evidence being that he'd found his cat in the strangest place this morning. Saber had taken up temporary residence on his roof and decided to scream as loud as he could at the rising sun.

After coaxing Saber off of the roof, a task that took the better part of an hour, The Farmer had nothing else to do and spent most of the morning thinking about Alex. Initially, he had been worried. After learning a little bit about Alex's childhood, he couldn't help but feel a small bit of pity and sympathy for the man, despite Alex's resolve to not dwell on his own past. It was admirable to an extent, but it made The Farmer wonder if Alex had properly dealt with that trauma, or if he was still carrying it around with him. 

Maybe that's why it was so difficult to figure out what was on the man's mind. The Alex he met on his first day here was different from the Alex he talked to during the flower festival. One had been courteous and polite while the other was a typical douche-bro talking about girls. Then there was the fact that both of those Alex's were different from the one he'd been getting to know over the last few weeks. He knew it was normal for most people to keep a bit of emotional between themselves and strangers at first. He thought that he'd finally been getting to know the real Alex after all this time, but after watching Alex shell himself up again after sharing his past, The Farmer could help but wonder. Just how much distance was there still between them?

Then, a semi-selfish thought crossed The Farmer’s mind, bringing a bittersweet smile to his lips. 'I'm probably one of the few people he's shared that with. I guess that means we are getting a little closer.' 

“Hey!” A hand grabbed The Farmer’s arm, making him halt in his tracks. He was spun around, finding an upset looking Haley pouting at him. “Did you go deaf or something? I’ve been calling your name.”

“Oh, sorry.” The Farmer didn't even realize how deep he'd been in his own thoughts. “I was thinking about something.”

“Must have been something serious if you were ignoring my cries for help." Haley huffed. "I could have used someone to help carry all this stuff.” The 'stuff' she referred to was the beach umbrella tucked under her right arm and the picnic basket and tote bag she carried with her left arm. 

The Farmer apologized again, taking the umbrella from her to lighten her load. "Why are you carrying so much stuff on your own anyways?" 

Haley ignored him. Instead, she looked him up and down over the top of her sunglasses. She was wearing a large white sun hat, and a bright blue beach shawl over a two-piece swimming suit. The pieces were white, sprinkled with brightly colored dots. The look she was giving him made him feel like a kid who'd shown up to school not knowing it was yearbook photo day. “You’re wearing that?” she asked.

‘That’ was in reference to his mud-stained jeans, blue tank top, and of course one of his grandfather’s old bandanas that was tied around his neck. “Um, yeah. Why?”

“Don’t you own any swimming trunks?”

“No.”

Haley clicked her tongue at him. “You’re going to the beach and you’re not even ready to go swimming.”

The Farmer felt embarrassment rise up in him, turning his ears pink. “Well, I was going to meet Alex, and he never said anything about swimming. I mean, if we swim, I could just go in my boxers…” He tailed off, losing his voice. Haley's glare slowly became a scowl as he continued, and he wasn't sure how much more self-conscious he could get. 

Haley looked him him up and down once more. In comparison, she looked like a model that was ready for a a summer magazine cover, hip jutted out to one side. She tutted her tongue, then suddenly shoved the rest of her things into his arms and turned her back to him. “Come on, I’ll have something you can borrow.”

The Farmer stood frozen in the middle of the road, holding her stuff as his brain attempted to process the interaction. She was only a few steps away when she shot her glare back at him. "Well, are you coming?"

"Y-Yes!" The Farmer stumbled forward, almost dropping everything in the process. He began following Haley like an obedient puppy back through town. Carrying all her things like him made him feel like one of those chauffeur's that followed rich girls through the mall in movies. They were thankfully not far from her place; Haley had intercepted him near the town's small graveyard so he only had to balance her things in his arms for about ten minutes.

After the brisk but silent walk, Haley was pushing open the front door to her house. The Farmer hurried inside, finding Haley's sister, Emily, sitting on the floor in front of their coffee table and her back against he couch. Emily looked to be very focused on the collection of crystals that decorated the table, her purple hair pined up to keep it from falling in her eyes. She smiled and waved at The Farmer, who tried to wave back the best he could with his arms full.

"Just put those things on the kitchen table," Haley said. She practically marched through the house, making her way to a door on the far side of the kitchen. She pushed it open and disappeared inside. 

The Farmer walked over to the kitchen, depositing the bags and umbrella as instructed, and then remained standing there awkwardly. This was the first time he'd ever visited Haley's home; actually, this was probably the first time he'd spent time with Haley without Alex being nearby. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't exactly sure how to act right now.

He was spared having to stand around awkwardly by Haley stepping back into the kitchen a moment later. "Well come on, don't just stand there," she said quickly and then disappeared back into the room.

The Farmer followed her. The moment he stepped inside, he could tell that this room was different from the rest of the house. The décor looked nothing along the lines of Haley or Emily’s tastes. Instead, it looked like it had been plucked directly out of a mail-order catalogue and deposited.  It was colder in this room, the blinds hadn’t been opened, and if he squinted he could see there was a fine layer of dust covering everything.

The only light in the room came from the opened a door of a walk-in closet. He heard Haley ruffling through it and approached.  The Farmer spoke up, “Um, I don’t think I’d fit into one of your swimsuits Haley.”

Haley's laughter preceded her as she walked out of the closet, holding  pair of gray and white swimming trunks and sandals. “Oh honey, I’m not giving you one of mine. I mean,” she looked him up and down again. “Actually, I think you would be able to fit in one of them, but I figured you be more comfortable in one of my dad’s old trunks. Don't worry, I don't think he's ever even worn this pair.” She emphasized her point by fishing a still attached price tag out of the shorts and yanking it off before handing the clothes to The Farmer. 

The Farmer took the swimming trunks from her, looking them over. “Are you sure he won’t mind?”

“Of course not. He and mom have been out traveling the world for the last two years. He’s a little bigger than you, and has bland taste, but they should work just fine.” Haley nodded towards another door on the opposite side of the room. “Use their bathroom to change.”

“Oh, ah, thank you Haley.” The Farmer did as she told him, walking over and closing the door behind himself. It was a little odd changing in another person’s bathroom; made even worse by the fact that the bathroom felt just as cold and lifeless as the bedroom.

When he was done, he found Haley sitting in the kitchen, tapping away a message on her phone. She looked him over again when he appeared. “Well, it’s better than before at least. Now, can you be oh so kind as to help me carry my bags?” There was a new, small black bag next to the picket basket and umbrella. When The Farmer looked back at her, she had added a small pout to her expression, blinking her long eyelashes at him.

A minute later, Haley was leading the way to the beach, her large hat bobbing with every step as she continued to tap away at her phone. The Farmer walked next to her, carrying her things like a faithful pack mule. The umbrella somehow felt heavier this time, and he had to keep adjusting his grip to not drop it. “So,” he said to her, “Did Alex invite you too?”

“Yeah, but I’m not supposed to say why.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why he wants to make this a secret though. You could easily guess what it is that he has planned. He only ever has one thing on his mind like some silly puppy. Kind of looks like a mutt too, when his hair gets all wet.”

The Farmer gave it a thought, smiling at how easily he could see it. “Yeah, he kinda is like a puppy, isn’t he?”

“Not to mention he’s cute,” Haley glanced over at him, and The Farmer bit his tongue. It felt like a purposefully leading question, like Haley was probing him and looking for answers. “We could probably put him in a funny little hat and bowtie and he’d make a good town mascot.”

The Farmer forced a soft, polite chuckle. “Yeah, probably.”

Haley also chuckled at her own joke before turning back to her phone. The Farmer let himself fall slightly behind Haley so she couldn’t see his face, which he was sure looked a little crestfallen despite his best efforts to hide it. Two trains of thought were racing through his mind right now, dangerously close to a collision.

The first was about Haley and her intentions. Even after the limited number of interactions between them, there was no doubt in his mind that Haley was far more perceptive than Alex. He couldn't tell if she'd brought up Alex's look on purpose. She reminded him of a rabbit with nothing but cuteness and innocence behind her fur. However, the looks she sometimes gave him made The Farmer fear that this rabbit was watching and waiting for the perfect time to rip out his jugular.

The other train in his mind was actually about Haley's comment. Alex was attractive, there was no doubt about that. From his limited interactions with the other townsfolk, and accidental eavesdropping when he passed by them, most, if not all, of the women in town agreed with Haley. She wasn't the only one making off-hand comments. Some of the older women in town joke about how they might have a chance with him if they were only a few years younger. He knew he shouldn’t be feel this twinge of jealousy, thinking about it. Alex was his friend, nothing more. 

“Alex!” Haley's voice broke The Farmer’s train of thought again, and when he spotted the man, every thought in his brain derailed. They were at the beach already, and Haley was waving down the boy that was currently dominating The Farmer’s thoughts. The Farmer realized -- with horrifying dread -- that the sights he was seeing now would haunt him during many of his lonely, late-at-night imaging's for the weeks to come. A shirtless Alex, with his slightly too small swimming trunks and bouncing pecs, was running toward him with a smile on his face. Lightly tanned skin glistening in the sunlight. The Farmer's brain processed it in slow-motion, like the man was some lifeguard from that old SeaWatch show.

Alex ran straight up to The Farmer, beaming at him. He took the umbrella and a bag from The Farmer, who gave it up without a fight. “Haley told me about how she kidnapped you on your way over. Hopefully she didn’t scare you too much.” He gave The Farmer a playful nudge with his shoulder and a little wink, electrifying the man where their shoulders had touched.

The Farmer opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to speak. He had not been mentally prepared to receive this much direct attention from his crush. Much less his shirtless, very muscular, crush.

Fortunately, Haley saved him. “Well that’s rude,” Haley frowned at Alex, arms crossed over her chest. “I’ll have you know I did you a favor and loaned The Farmer a pair of swimming trunks. I saved you all from seeing him in his tacky underwear.”

The Farmer coughed, trying to cover as much of his now glowing red face with his hand without looking obvious. Finding his voice now, he defended himself. "They're not tacky! You don't even know what they look like."  He tried to play it cool, but the truth was that Haley had probably saved him from a mortifying amount of embarrassment.

Given Alex's attire, it was obvious that when he'd made the invite, Alex had neglected the fact that swimming was on the agenda today. If The Farmer hadn't been intercepted and he had gone swimming in only his boxers...Needless to say it wouldn't have been one of the best idea he'd had. He'd been so busy trying to not think of Alex that he didn't even consider the consequences that would bring. 

Alex turned to Haley, eyebrow raised. “Well why’s that a bad thing? I was gonna go swimming in my briefs until my grandma stopped me.”

Haley’s look melted to disgust while The Farmer brain plagued him with even more mental images he really shouldn't be imaging while in public. 

“Whatever," Haley said. "Can you boys just put my stuff down over there?” Haley pointed at another pile of items on the sand ahead of them. The Farmer presumed it to be Alex’s due to the fact that the man’s varsity jacket was on top of it. Alex set up the umbrella while Haley took the tote bag from The Farmer and produced a beach blanket. She instructed him to put the basket down anywhere, and to be very careful with the black bag.

“So Alex,” The Farmer said after the other man had securely placed the umbrella. He desperately needed something to distract himself with, otherwise the thoughts in his head would make it impossible to look the other man in the eye. “What’s this celebration you had planned?”

Alex grinned. He grabbed something from under his jacket and hid it behind his back. “Only the funnest thing ever,” He tossed the object up and over his head, catching the ball and holding it out at The Farmer. “Gridball!”

The waves rolled lazily onto the beach as The Farmer stared at the ball. Haley was uncaringly starting to fiddle with the contents of her black bag. 

“I told you you’d be able to guess it,” she said, pulling a camera from the bag.

Alex brought the ball back to his chest, a twinge of embarrassment showing on his face. “Well I-, I mean it’s the funnest thing I could think of.  You haven’t had a chance to hang out at the beach since you hurt your leg, right? Well I say it’s not a real summer until you’ve wasted a day on the beach. And there’s a festival tomorrow, so we won’t be able to do this then.”

The Farmer smiled at Alex, reaching out and taking the ball from him. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to defend yourself. That actually sounds like fun.” He threw the ball into the air for himself, but failed to catch it on the back down. He stood there for a moment, taking a moment to process his own turn of embarrassment. He reached down to pick up the ball and handed it back to Alex. “You ah, might have to refresh me on the rules though. I don't think I've played a game of gridball since middle school gym class.”

Alex took the ball with a smirk and gave The Farmer a playful shove. “Looks like you need a little practice on your hand-eye coordination too then. Just don't take any offence if you're not first pick you for my team.”

A camera’s shutter clicked, causing both men to look at Haley. She lifted the camera away from her face, waving one of her hands. “Oh, don’t mind me. I haven’t taken a lot of photos lately, so I’ll just be watching the game and taking as many candids as I can.” Haley smiled at both of the men, and for some reason The Farmer felt unnerved.

The Farmer had his doubts about being able to play a game of gridball with only two people. Haley had made her dislike of participating in the game very clear when he had brought it up. She was currently lounging on the blanket, cold drink in on hand and phone in the other, fulfilling her role of accidental model. 

Alex said he’d invited some more people to spend time with them, so in the meantime he went over the basics with The Farmer while tossing the ball back and forth. About thirty minutes of casual practice, Sam, Sebastian, and Vincent were marching down the sandy path and onto the beach. They were all dressed for the beach, even Sebastian. He still wore a black hoodie, but had discarded his jeans for a in a pair of black swim trunks, which surprised The Farmer given his last encounter with the man.

“Abby couldn’t make it?” Alex asked as they approached.

“She’s got a summer cold, her mom turned us away at the door.” Sam explained, dropping their own things next to Haley under the umbrella. "Hey Haley. You know, I had a strange dream about you last night." 

"Gross." Haley said, not looking up from her phone. "I had a dream about you too." 

Alex half frowned, twirling the ball in his hands. “Well I was hoping for three-on-three, but two-on-two should work. I guess Vincent will have to sit out.”

“No way!” Vincent stomped his sandaled feet with his bottom lips stuck out. “I wanna play too.”

Sebastian raised his hand. “I’ll sit out-”

“Haley,” Alex cut him off, “You sure you don’t wanna play?”

Haley raise her drink up in the air. “Nope. I'm all good right here.”

Alex turned to The Farmer. “I guess we’ll have to find someone else to play with then. Uh, sorry this is turning out to be a chore.”

“Um,” Sebastian raised his hand higher. “I said I’ll-”

“Oh hey!” Alex’s hand shot up and he waved down Elliot and Leah, who both had just stepped out of his shack. “Hey guys, come here for a sec!”

Sebastian lowered his hand, sighing and casting a melodramatic glance out towards the ocean.

“Oh Alex, what's up?” Leah asked when they approached.

“We’re playing a game of gridball but we’re short a person. Either of you wanna play?”

Leah perked up instantly, “Sure. I’d love to.”

Elliot gave her a less than enthusiastic look. “But I thought we were taking a break.”

Leah sighed heavily, but then placed both hands on Elliot’s shoulders. She looked him directly in the eye. “Elliot, I’ve been proof-reading your manuscript for the last three hours. I mean no offense when I say this, but something where I can be a little violent will be better for me than a walk.”

“You can sit with me Elliot,” Haley called out, waving him over. “I’ve got drinks and food.”

Elliot resigned himself to his fate, taking a seat on the beach blanket next to her. Haley pulled a bag of chips and a water bottle from the basket and handed it to Elliot. E

“Farm boy and I are captains then!” Alex then declared. “How do you wanna decide teams?”

“I say I get first pick since you’re forcing me into a position of power.” The Farmer said.

Immediately, Vincent’s hand shot up. The kid waved it back and forth, silently thinking the words ‘Pick me!’ over and over in The Farmer’s direction. Alex’s cocky smile dawned on his face. “Okay, I’m good with that.”

The Farmer matched Alex's cocky grin, accepting the challenge. “Okay, Vincent, you’re my first pick.”

“Yes!” Vincent did a small dance, then turned to Sebastian. “I promise we won’t hurt you too much,” he said before running over to The Farmer.

Sebastian turned his horrified look on everyone else. Asking without words if anyone else had heard what the seven-year-old child had just said. His only response was from Sam, who gave him a half-hearted smile and shrug.

“I pick Sam,” Alex said.

“Then I want Leah.”

Alex shot The Farmer a quizzical look. The Farmer didn’t say anything to Alex. He merely high-fived Leah and said, “Don’t you think you’ll be hot in that?”

Leah shrugged. “I guess. Hold on, I’ve got an undershirt on too.” She slid her suspenders off and began to unbutton her green shirt. As she shed, every pair of eyes were on her. Even Haley had to lower her sunglasses to watch. As Leah tossed her shirt towards Elliot, the muscles of her back were outlined finely in her gray tank top. Her biceps were bigger than any crop The Farmer had managed to grow, and everyone looked between her and Alex.

Alex felt the need to suddenly cover himself up in shame.

The Farmer, unable to contain his smile, asked, “How’s the woodworking going Leah?”

Leah rolled her shoulders as she responded. “Oh, pretty well. I just cut down a pine tree yesterday and hauled it into my cabin. Not sure what I’m gonna turn it into yet.”

“We’re fucking screwed,” Sebastian muttered as he trudged over to Alex and Sam.

The game was pretty much one-sided. Despite the fact that they had agreed to play two-hand touch, Leah had decided to that she was playing full contact. ‘I’m still touching them with both my hands when I tackle them,’ she’d said. No one bothered penalizing her for it because after a successful tackle she’d leap up screaming something about the importance of the Oxford comma. They'd all decided it was probably better to suffer the couple of bruises and let her blow off the steam.

Vincent also turned out to be quite the star player. Specifically, whenever Sam was involved in blocking him. The boy had mastered manipulation at a very young age and would break out into crocodile tears whenever his older brother was getting too close or blocked one of his passes. The rest of the time, Sam would talk to Vincent in a baby voice and cheer as his brother crossed the touchdown line. He’d managed to secure more than half of The Farmer’s points.

“You fight dirty,” Alex grumbled once while he stared down The Farmer after Vincent's fifth score in a row.

“You need to use your head when picking your team,” The Farmer retorted, a wide grin on his face.

The game lasted about thirty minutes, and then The Farmer’s team was only a point away from winning. He huddled together with Vincent and Leah, formulating their plan. Leah had gotten very into the game and had taken over strategizing for them. The Farmer was glad for that, because it allowed her to channel her bloodthirst at the other team.

“Let me throw the ball! My brother would never let Alex or Sebastian sack me if I was the quarterback,” Vincent said in an excited whisper. Leah was clearly not being a good influence on him.

“I can handle Sebastian just fine,” Leah said, “Farmer, think you can outrun Alex?”

The Farmer nodded, “No problem.”

“Alright, break!”

The Farmer stood with Leah in front of Vincent, the ball in his hands. They faced off against Alex and Sam, Sebastian playing farther back. “Ready to lose, Alex?” The Farmer taunted.

“You may have a lead on us-”

“Alex the score’s 39 to 13,” Leah interjected.

Alex’s eyebrow twitched, but he ignored her. “We won’t ever give up, no matter how tired we get.”

“That’s okay,” The Farmer smirked. “You can take a break once we beat you.”

Before Alex could continue the trash talk, The Farmer hiked Vincent the ball. Both he and Leah charged around Alex and Sam. Sam was not taking the game very seriously and knelt before his brother, taunting him in a voice usually reserved for when someone talks to a pet. Alex stood slightly behind Sam, ready to try and intercept should Vincent attempt to throw. Leah ran at Sebastian, full on screaming. Sebastian screamed back, frozen to the spot, and they both went down in the next second as Leah tackled him.

Distracted by the tackle, Alex turned his attention away. That’s when Vincent threw the ball. It sailed over Alex’s head towards The Farmer, much higher than expected. Alex’s head snapped up to the ball. His body moved on instinct, charging after it. He was only a few feet from The Farmer when he leapt into the air, and felt the ball brush against his fingertips.

Alex realized his mistake too late, his momentum having already brought his elbow inches from The Farmer’s face. In the next second, their bodies collided, and both men tumbled into the sand. The world spun.

“Ugh,” Alex groaned. “That hurt.”

The Farmer was pinned under him, who also groaned in pain. “Why do I always get hurt when we hang out?”

Alex gave a single laugh as he pushed himself up off The Farmer's body. “Sorry about that.” He paused mid-way in pulling himself up. He then reached out with his free hand, brushing his fingers over The Farmer’s cheek where his elbow had collided with. The skin was already starting to bruise.  “Does it hurt much?”

The Farmer flinched and his body stiffened at the touch. His cheek felt hot against Alex’s hand, already turning red from the pre-swelling. For a moment, neither of them moved. In those few seconds, Alex noticed something peeking out from under The Farmer’s bangs. Skin, paler and raised, hidden further beneath his hair. He was overcome with the urge to brush the bangs aside.

“You guys okay?” Sam called. He ran over with the other three.

Sam's voice made Alex jump. He pulled himself fully off of The Farmer, offering a hand to pull the other man up. “We’re fine,” Alex called back. He cast a look back at The Farmer, feeling slightly embarrassed. The Farmer was also looking away, which only made him feel worse. Why did he make a mistake like that? He could have hurt The Farmer far worse.

“Hey, he’s holding the ball,” Leah exclaimed. Alex looked down to the Farmer’s hands, where the gridball was clutched against his stomach. He must have caught it before they had collided. “That means we won!”

“No, Alex got him!” Sam protested. “We’re still playing.”

“Cowsh-” Leah caught herself, a sheepish glance cast in Vincent’s direction.  “I mean, no way. Haley’s blanket is the endzone. He caught while in it and we won.”

“Alex had his hands on The Farmer before they touched the ground.” Sam protested. “That counts as a tackle.”

“You could just ask me,” Haley said in a bored tone and clicking through her camera. “I was taking pictures.”

Leah and Sam both turned to her and said in unison, “You got the shot?”

Haley turned her camera around to face them and clicked through the pictures. It clearly showed The Farmer catching the ball and landing on the sand before his collision with Alex. Leah smiled over at Sam. “We had such a lead on you guys anyways. You should just accept defeat gracefully.”

Sam dug his foot further into the sand. “Vincent was just having so much fun that I wanted to let him keep playing.”

Once Alex and the team accepted their defeat, the group dispersed and went about their own activities.  Vincent dragged his brother down to the water’s edge, wanting to swim. Leah went home to change, promising she’d come back after getting a swimsuit. Elliot and Haley were single-handedly eating their way through the entire picnic basket and gossiping. Sebastian was still laying in the sand where Leah had tackled him long after the game had finished, slow cooking under the sun's rays. Only Haley had approached him, and that was to apply sunscreen to his back after it had started to turn pink.

Alex forced himself to get over his previous embarrassment. The Farmer was okay now, and Alex truly wanted the other man to enjoy himself. They had swimming races with Vincent, played chicken with Sam and Leah, and even had a sandcastle-building contest. Leah won, to the surprise of no one.  

Eventually the sun started to go down and one by one, members of the group started to return home. Alex eventually found himself sitting alone on the edge of one of the docks. There was still a long time until the sun went down, and he didn’t want to go home yet. He had a small pile of rocks next to him, which he would occasionally toss out to skip across the water.

His thoughts drifted but were mostly about The Farmer. He’d enjoyed today, a lot, but did The Farmer feel the same way? Was he secretly mad about being hurt by Alex again? Why was it that he always did end up hurting The Farmer?

Why was he so sad now that today was over? 

There was a heaviness in his stomach, like he'd eaten too much and given himself indigestion. It wouldn't go away, and because to irritate him. Normally, beach days were highlights of his summer. Why did this one feel so different? 

As he wound up to toss another rock, he heard a shutter click behind him. He lowered his arm and turned around, finding Haley behind him, having changed back to her regular outfit. Her camera hung from its strap around her neck. “What are you doing back here?” he asked.

Haley walked over and sat down next to him, draping her legs over the edge of the dock. “Thought I’d keep you company. I know how you like to stay out on the beach for too long. Also, you're brooding.”

Alex frowned at her, “I’m not brooding.”

“Please, Alex you’re way too transparent with your feelings.” Haley was clicking through her camera now, looking at the photos she’d taken.  “You made a new friend, spent all day playing with him, and now you’re sad that he’s gone.”

Alex didn’t respond to that, merely throwing a stone out over the water. This one didn’t skip.

Haley stopped on a picture, the one of Alex rubbing sunscreen on The Farmer’s back. “You know,” she said looking down at it, “he is rather cute.”

“The Farmer?”

“Hmm,” Haley nodded, resuming to click through her photos. “He’s got this air about him too. Kind of mysterious and has a sharp tongue, but he also has a soft spot for people he cares about. Don’t you think?”

“You’re not his type,” Alex said in a flat voice.

“Oh? You sound jealous. Afraid I’ll steal away your new friend?”

Alex scoffed. “No way. And I’m not jealous.”

“Really?”

Alex frowned at her. In response, Haley lifted her camera. The screen was currently on the photo she'd taken after the collision incident. Alex was holding his body only a few inches away from The Farmers, both men staring at each other with Alex’s hand on The Farmer’s face. Alex hadn't noticed at the time, but The Farmer's lips were parted and his whole face was flushed red, not just the spot where he'd hit him.

“You seem pretty protective of him here," Haley teased.

Alex frowned at her and turned away. He felt his cheeks flush with simultaneous confusion flooding his brain. Why did he suddenly feel so flustered?

Haley laughed and ruffled his hair. “Oh Alex, you’re too easy to tease.” She pulled her hand back. “But you know, I’m glad you two became friends.”

Alex didn't look at her, but instead stared out at the sea as he asked, “Why?”

“Well, when was the last time you spent time with someone aside from me? We’re only friends because we went to high school together. Ever since you started hanging out with The Farmer, you started reaching out to other people. Like Sam and Sebastian today. I didn’t even know that you knew what Sebastian’s name was, considering what a shut-in that boy is.”

Alex felt like he was being lectured and mocked from the way his face heated up the longer Haley talked. “Oh, buzz off.”

Haley tutted her tongue. “Now Alex, you’ll never make or be able to keep any friends if you let your embarrassment talk for you like that.”

“Then why haven’t you run away yet?”

“'Cus I know you’re all bark and no bite. Maybe spending more time with The Farmer will let some of his good nature rub off on you and you'll start gifting everyone in town stuff with random stuff. Did you know? He grows some of the most beautiful and vibrant flowers I’ve ever seen. I asked him for one once and he put it in my hair just behind my ear. If I was a weaker woman he’d have swept me off my feet right then and there.”

There was a twinge of something painful in Alex’s chest. “Yeah well, The Farmer gives everyone gifts,” he spit out. “You’re not a special case.”

Haley huffed and got to her feet. Alex couldn't look over as she did. He didn’t hear her leave, and just as he was about to look back at her, he felt her foot place on his back. Suddenly and violently, he was shoved off the edge of the dock and plunged under the water. 

The shock of the water nearly knocked what little breath he was able to intake before submerging. When he pulled himself above the water’s surface, he was gasping for air. Haley stood on the dock, arms crossed and wearing a frown. As he treated water, he shouted up at her, “What the hell Haley?”

Haley huffed again and looked at her nails instead of him when she spoke. “Oh, you know. They say that when you’re trying to break a dog of a bad habit that you squirt him with a water bottle, right? Since I don’t have one of those I figured shoving him into the ocean was the next best thing.” She turned and started walking away. “Try and cool off before the festival tomorrow,” she called back. “Or else you’ll scare away your new friend with that vicious bark.”

Alex glared after her before he dove under the water and began swimming towards shore. But what she’d said sparked an image into his mind. He suddenly saw himself and The Farmer, sitting in a comfortable silence on the docks. They watched the glowing Jellyfish dance about the ocean waters, and a smile touched Alex's lips. 

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Summer

Date: 28th

“You’ll scare away your new friend with that vicious bark.”

Alex spent most of the day thinking about Haley’s words. They echoed endless, reverberating over and over inside his head as he tried to fall asleep last night. Yes, he had been rude yesterday when Haley was teasing him, but he just wasn’t sure why. He still wasn’t even sure why his actions warranted him getting shoved off the dock. It’s just that, when Haley spoke of The Farmer, he could clearly see it. The Farmer’s hand brushing back her hair and pinning the flower behind her ear. And when Alex imagined that soft smile directed at Haley, he’d felt a tightness in his chest that made him lash out with his words.

The sun was near the horizon, and there was less than an hour of daylight left. Alex had been wandering town, kicked out of the house by his grandfather who couldn’t stand Alex’s pacing anymore. To be fair, Alex had walked in front of the television during an important part of Feuding Family. It was the only show that both his grandparents loved to sit down and watch together. He knew his grandmother was picking up that something was one his mind, but since Alex didn't know exactly what is was himself and didn't want to talk with her about it, he gladly accepted his grandfather's banishment.

He’d made a trek up to the mountain and stopped for a while at the spot he and The Farmer had gone fishing back before the Luau. It looked like a comfortable enough spot to sit and sort his thoughts, but after five minutes he realized he couldn’t sit still. He’d walked back into town but since he didn't feel like being confronted by his grandmother, he skirted the edge of town until his aimless wandering eventually brought him to the edge of the farm.

He was unsure of why he was even here. He didn’t really want to talk to The Farmer right now. He’d probably sound like an idiot. “Hey bro. I was wondering, does it hurt you when you think of me? ‘Cus it hurts when I think of you.”

Okay, he’d definitely sound like an idiot.

He knew he was going to see The Farmer soon, so he really hoped he could think of something better to say before then. The downside to living in such a small town was that you couldn’t skip out on a festival. Unless you were on your deathbed, skipping out on a festival was basically taboo. Even that weird guy that wore his Spirit's Eve wizard costume year-round and the homeless guy that lived in the woods showed up to every festival. You’d be questioned no less than twenty times as to why you were absent and rumors would run rampant.

Alex sighed, walked over to a nearby tree, and placed his forehead against the bark. He knew in the back of his mind that he wanted to talk with The Farmer, that's why he was here. They were great friends and Alex found he truly enjoyed the man's company. What infuriated Alex though was the feeling he got while standing here. He couldn't just walk up to the door and say he came to visit. He felt that he needed to have some sort of excuse to be at the farm. Why did his relationship with The Farmer just feel so different compared his relationships with his other friends?  Maybe he just needed to bite the bullet and throw himself into at the situation; force himself past his own awkwardness and be truthful about wanting to spent time with The Farmer.

He lifted his head up, and then smiled at the tree, pretending it was The Farmer. “Hey bro,” Alex said, finger gunning at the empty air between them. "What's up?" 

The tree's leaves rustled in the wind.

Alex coughed to clear his throat, trying to ignore the sudden urge he had to drown himself in the nearby river. He threw on his best smile and tried again. “Hey farm boy! Did you know about the festival tonight?” His smile dropped, and he started to mutter to himself.  “Of course he knows. Everyone does.  I even mentioned it yesterday. Maybe I could say I wanted to show him how to get to the beach? No, that’s dumb, we were at the beach yesterday…”

The front door of the cottage unexpectedly banged open. Panic nearly manifested itself as a scream in Alex's throat as he immediately dove into the nearby bushes. His heart pounded so strongly against his ribcage he felt as if it were popping out of his chest like a cartoon. He didn't dare move. He couldn't decided what would be worse; The Farmer finding Alex hiding at the edge of his property, or stepping out into view and revealing that he'd been hiding on The Farmer's property. Neither option appealed to him.

He heard the door close. Alex didn't even dare to breath as the sound of The Farmer’s footsteps approached. With every step, his heart beat faster and his anxiety tripled. Alex was convinced everyone in town could hear it at this point.

Then, The Farmer walked past him. He was completely oblivious to the man hiding in the shrubbery. A minute passed, but Alex remained where he was.

'Yoba, what am I even doing,' he thought to himself. What was the protocol on this? How long were you supposed to remain hidden in the bushes at your friends house before it started to get weird?

'Yeah, no, any amount of time spent hiding in the bushes is weird.' Alex chastised himself. 

Given the time, The Farmer was probably headed towards the beach. But what if he came back and found Alex walking away from the farm? What sort of questions would it raise?

He sighed and settled himself more comfortably in the bushes. Muttering to himself, he said, “Maybe I’ll just wait till sundown…Yoba I feel like an idiot.”

The Wizard was knelt before a rather large hole that had ‘mysteriously’ opened up in one of the walls of the community center. He touched the edge of it gingerly with his fingers, then touched his fingers to his tongue. He produced a small magnifying glass from his robe and levitated it before one of his eyes as he examined broken piece of the wall. He’d occasionally make grunts, noises of understanding, and say the words ‘I see.’

A horde of Junimos were gathered around the room watching him. White and Blue were standing on either side of the human. After The Wizard broke off swallowed a small piece of drywall—commenting that the texture remined him of pudding—White stepped forward and asked, “Well what is it?”

The Wizard rose, brushing his hands on his robes and snapped the magnifying glass out of existence. “It’s just as I thought. There’s nothing I can do for the building.”

The Junimos’ disappointment was obvious. From their chorus of groans, a few even started booing him. The Wizard even had to sidestep a rotten tomato that one of them produced and threw at him. He looked at the red splatter on the wall with a frown. “Please tell me you’re not having The Farmer gather crops so you can just throw them at villagers when you’re upset.”

“No, no, no!” White held its hands up before itself in an ‘X’ formation. “I assure you, we need these items to help with restoring our connection to the land.”

The Wizard eyed the other spirits warily. “If you say so. But if I have to dodge more rancid fruit, I’m not giving you the potion for Morris.”

“Aren’t tomatoes vegetables?” Blue asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” White said very quickly. “Speaking of the potion, Mr. Wizard, how much longer until it’s ready?”

“I told you, a couple of days. It takes at least a week to steep properly or else the potion will turn him into a frog.”

“That wouldn’t exactly be a problem,” White muttered. The Wizard cast a disapproving glance at the spirit. White quickly changed the subject. “So, you’re sure there’s nothing you can do for our home? Can’t you just snap your fingers and fix this place up?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say you specialized in plot convenience?” Blue protested.

“I do,” The Wizard said. He rasped on the wall with his knuckles just above the hole. “But I’m afraid this building is infused with the one thing my magic doesn’t work on. It’s a plot point.”

“What does that mean?” White asked.

“It means that even if I did fix it up, the universe would send something worse than Morris to destroy it. A hurricane might come again and take it out. We could have a fire that would ravage the town and burn it down. Or, I don’t know, a freak outbreak of zombies might wipe out civilization and then this building would be left exposed to the elements for another couple of decades until it looks exactly like this again.”

The Junimos began muttering to themselves. “That last one sounds like a stretch,” the Wizard heard Blue whisper to White.

The Wizard sighed. “Look, my point is, this building will continue to fall into ruin until the person who’s meant to fix it comes along and fixes it. Until then, it’s best to just leave everything as is.”

“What are you guys talking about?”

Wizard and spirits turned to the new voice. The Farmer stood in the doorway, gently lowering his backpack to the floor.

White rushed forward to greet him. “Nothing! Nothing at all. We’re merely discussing...um…”

“Politics!” Blue offered, leaping up on The Farmer’s shoulder.

“Politics.” The Farmer echoed. He cast a doubtful eye over the spirits that were gathering around him. The Junimos were all nodding and muttering in agreement. He was sure they were just muttering random jargon to sound professional. Mostly because he heard words and phrases like, ‘Cabinet Member,’ ‘Republicans,’ and ‘The royal line of succession' without any other context.

To himself The Wizard muttered. “It takes years to learn the Junimo language, even longer to speak it. Oh, but don’t worry, I have this niffy potion that was whipped up just for you! Now you can make small talk with these things I’ve spent my entire life studying. Yoba he’s an ass.”

“What brings you by, Farmer?” White asked.

“I’m just dropping by some of my best melons,” The Farmer pulled one of the pink fruits from his backpack. “I was afraid that with the storm and my injury I wasn’t going to get anything high quality before the summer ended. But Alex did a great job with mixing the fertilizer. I didn’t even have to tell him how much to spread out.”

The Junimos rushed his backpack. The floor around him became a moving carpet of colors. The five melons were carried further into the building, accompanied by cheers. A few Junimos remained with The Wizard and The Farmer, White, Yellow, and Blue among them.

“These are wonderful!” White exclaimed. “We are always grateful for your contributions. It’s also wonderful to see you work so well with one of your candidates.”

The Farmer’s eyebrows creased together. “My what?”

The Wizard snapped his fingers. The Farmer’s head fell forward as he began to snore. “Try again,” The Wizard sounded exasperated. “But this time, leave out the fact that you’re playing matchmaker.” The Wizard snapped his fingers again, and The Farmer’s head shot up.

“I didn’t even have to tell him how much to spread out,” The Farmer repeated. Blissfully unaware that he’d just been put to sleep.  

“Ah, thank-, thank you as always!” White stumbled over its words. It gestured at Yellow, who ran into another room. “In fact, we actually have another list for you to work on now.”

Yellow reappeared a moment later, somersaulting down from the rafters with golden paper in hand. When Yellow landed, it presented the list to The Farmer like it was some sort of medal. The Farmer took it, an eyebrow going up as he read it over.

“You guys know that some of these things only grow in spring, right? It’d certainly help me plan ahead if you just gave me all the lists in the first place.” The Farmer pocketed the paper regardless. “What are you guys using them for anyways?”

“They won’t tell me,” The Wizard said bitterly. The Farmer spared the man a glance. He looked upset as usual, arms crossed over his chest and wearing his usual frown. But this time, the man had several of the small spirits playing on him. Two Junimos were bouncing on the rim of his hat and the others were climbing up the cloth of his cape.

The Farmer tried his best not to laugh, watching the carefree spirits play on him with a worry. The Wizard must have been visiting them more if the Junimos no longer perceived him as a threat.

“If I had to venture a guess," The Wizard ignored The Farmer, who was failing to conceal his laughter. "They’re nature spirits, and you’re making sacrifices to them. They must use it for energy and—okay, what is it?” He suddenly snapped at The Farmer. 

The Farmer couldn’t keep the smile off his face. “It’s nothing,” he lied. "It's just that you guys seem closer than before." 

One of the Junimo used the rim of The Wizard’s hat as a springboard to launch itself up into the rafters, quickly followed by its friends.

“They’re doing this to terrorize me," The Wizard growled. 

“I don’t know. It just looks like they don’t see you as a threat anymore.”

Blue made a sound similar to the snort of a pig. “If anything, he was more of an annoyance than a threat.”

One of The Wizard’s eyebrows twitched. “Don’t forget who’s helping you with your pest problem, spirit.”

“What pest problem?” The Farmer asked.

The Wizard raised his right hand. “Oh, you’ll see.” He snapped his fingers, and then he and every Junimo went invisible. 

Before The Farmer fully registered what had just happened, a voice that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up came from the open doorway of the community center. “My dear farmer, what a pleasant surprise!”

A scowl appeared on The Farmer's face as he turned to face his old boss. Morris stood in the open door of the community center with his hands behind his back. The setting sun dyed the sky behind him crimson. His black hair was slicked back with too much gel, and his red bow tied was prominently tied around his neck. It sat perfectly in place. Unnaturally. 

“Morris,” The Farmer said, faking the kindness in his voice. “I hadn't seen you all summer. I'd hoped you'd forgotten about me. To what do I owe the displeasure?”

“Oh, I’m merely taking a little stroll during my lunch break.” The most surprising part of this statement was that Morris took his breaks at all. He’d always struck The Farmer as the type of employee that so dedicated to his work that he’d skip on breaks just so he could devote more of his time to the glorious company he served.

Morris didn't drop his fake-sounding customer service voice as he spoke, “What about you, my dear Farmer? I had heard you were injured in the storm a few weeks ago. There was even a rumor that you’d died in a landslide.”

“I got better.”

“Disappointing,” Morris chimed. “But in any case, I’m sure you have medical bills to pay now. JojaMart membership holders do get steep and daily discounts. Not just at our facilities, we also partner with over one hundred different retailers so you can build rewards and earn discounts wherever you shop. Are you sure that I can’t interest you in joining? I’ll even wave the membership fee.”

“I’d sooner sell my farm, Morris.” Out of the corner of The Farmer’s eye, he noticed a few Junimos had returned. They sat in a hole in the wall near something red that had splattered against it. They pointed at Morris, shaking their tiny fists. In the rafters above the small man was Orange. This spirit was holding a brick, poised to throw. It was restrained from doing so by Yellow and Red.

"That could always be arranged, if you wish." Morris said. 

As much as The Farmer wanted to see Orange succeed, it was probably better if the Joja Gremlin didn’t discover the existence of the Junimos. He’d most likely work to get the spirits listed an infestation so he’d have an excuse to tear down the building. “What are you doing here Morris? Of all the doorsteps you could darken on your lunch break, surely this dilapidated building isn't high on the list. Unless of course, this place reminds you of whatever rock you were spawned under?”

Morris held The Farmer's gaze for a moment before walking into the building. He moved towards the hole the Junimos had been pointing from, who all disappeared into the woodwork before Morris reached it. He ran his hand along the jagged edge. “This is a very old building, my dear Farmer. You should be careful if you plan to spend your time here.” Morris deliberately tore a piece of the drywall out. Then he dropped it, dusting the powder from his hands. The Farmer’s expression darkened, but the small man didn’t look at him. “You never know when there might be an accident.”

As Morris turned to leave, The Farmer noticed the head of a hammer sticking out from the back pocket of Morris’ black trousers. When Morris closed the door behind him, the Junimos slowly came out of hiding and approached The Farmer.

White waddled up to him, its form radiated sadness. The Farmer frowned down at the spirit, “How long has this been going on for?”

“About a month.” White admitted.

The Wizard reappeared, snapping into existence to The Farmer’s right. “The Junimos commissioned me to create a potion to drive Morris away,” he explained. “It won’t be ready for a few days though. Plus, I’m not even sure how long it will work. A few months at most.”

“I see.” The Farmer chewed the inside of his cheek, eyes cast down to the floor in thought. After a moment of deliberation, The Farmer picked up and shouldered his backpack. He crossed the room, pausing when he placed his hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he said and then left the community center. Just as he was about to close the door, Red rushed though the opening.

“Wait, Farmer, can I ask you a question?”

“Uh,” The Farmer looked around. Seeing nobody, he knelt down. “Sure. What is it?”

Red twisted its hands together bashfully. “I’d like to come to the festival with you.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I’ve never been to a human festival before.”

The Farmer thought it over. “I mean, sure I don’t mind. But there’s plenty of other festivals that would be more exciting than this one. We’re just gathering to watch jellyfish.”

Red had already climbed up to The Farmer’s shoulder, bouncing slightly. “That's okay, I've never tasted jelly from a jellyfish before!”

The Farmer half laughed, half snorted with a small smile on his face. “Okay, but it's not that kind of jelly. Also, you have to promise you’re not seen.”

“Roger, roger!” Red chimed, giving The Farmer a small salute. 

Thanks to his own stupid antics, Alex was the last one to arrive at the beach that night. Tables had been set up, littered with the supplies needed to make paper lanterns and boats. Most of the villagers were already holding their own completed paper constructions. Only Jas and Penny remained at the craft table. Everyone else was either on the shore or docks. Lewis was placing a wooden boat, one he commissioned from Robin every year, in the water. A rope tethered the boat to the dock as it bobbed up and down in the water. 

There was a sudden prick at the back of his neck, and Alex slapped at it. Some bug must have bitten him. He frowned at his hand when he saw he didn't get it, then looked up to scan the crowd. He spotted Haley first. She was with The Farmer and Vincent, standing near the waters edge on the sand. The small child looked like he’d trapped them some sort of conversation, to which The Farmer made all the appropriate nods and noises of interest.

Alex walked over to them, ignoring the fluttering feeling that was growing in his stomach. He started to pick up pieces of the conversation as he approached. 

“...and there’s this special green jelly that you can see sometimes!” Vincent was saying. “I didn’t see it last year, but my mom said she saw it.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky this year.” The Farmer said, patting Vincent’s head. He looked up and noticed Alex. His smile got bigger. "Hey Alex." 

Alex’s chest suddenly felt very light.

“She said it was over here!” Vincent grabbed The Farmer’s hand, tugging at the man away, pointing to the other end of the beach. 

The Farmer gave Alex a look that said ‘What can you do?’ before allowing himself to be pulled away.

Alex watched them go, and Haley stepped closer to him looping her arm through Alex’s. “Aw, don’t look so sad." She patted his bicep with her other hand comfortingly.  "I’m sure he’ll come back eventually.”

“I know that," Alex said, trying to not give Haley any more ammunition she could use to tease him.

Haley smiled at him. “Come on big boy. Let’s go make your lantern while you still have time.” She dragged him towards a table, pulling off a leaf stuck to the back of his jacket at the same time. “Why were you so late anyways? You’re usually one of the first ones here.”

“I was busy. Thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Alex felt Haley’s eyes on him, but she didn’t press the issue. Instead, she regaled him with talk of an article she’d recently read. Alex only half-listened, focusing on the construction of his lantern. He felt bad for not fully listening to Haley but was still glad she was there with him. He put all of his attention into folding up the lantern and didn't even notice The Farmer approach.

“Wow, that looks amazing Alex!” The Farmer said. 

Alex jumped slightly, not expecting the sudden praise. He smiled bashfully, rubbing the back of his head. "Oh, ah, thanks, but it's nothing really."

“Oh, he's just saying that because he doesn't want to admit that he loves this festival," Haley said. "It became his favorite holiday after he moved in with his grandparents,” Haley said.

“Really, how come?”

When The Farmer looked at him expectantly, Alex's anxiety flared up. It felt like he’d been thrust onto a game show and was told he needed to give the correct answer in order to live. Something about the way The Farmer looked at him made him feel unprepared. He glanced back down at the lantern, focusing on his own hands. He'd only spoken with The Farmer once about his past. It was easy to talk too him, almost too easy. He didn't feel ready to tell him the truth.  Not yet at least. 

“Well," Alex decided on a partial truth. "Summer’s my favorite season and this always felt like a goodbye party for summer, you know? It makes me look forward to next summer.”

The Farmer laughed softly.

Alex’s face flushed slightly. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s nothing,” The Farmer said with a smile. “I just think that this sort of rational suits you exactly.”

Haley smiled at Alex. “It does, doesn't it?”

Before Alex could say anything, Robin’s voice called from the docks. “Alright folks! It’s time to send out our lanterns. Everyone to the docks!” The three of them looked up, and it appeared as if Robin had taken control of the festival. It was her, and not Lewis that was holding the candle and lighter meant for the wooden boat. Meanwhile, Lewis sitting at the edge of the water, knees pulled up to his chest and chin, looking like he was about to cry. He was drawing in the sand with his finger while Linus sat next to him, softly patting his back.

"What do you think that's about?" Haley asked.

Both men shrugged. Before either one could guess, another voice called out to The Farmer. Vincent was charging back across the sand, radiating excitement. “Let’s go Mr. Farmer! I just know we’ll see the green jelly this year.”

“Oh Vincent!” Haley exclaimed dramatically, pointing back towards the other end of the beach. “What’s that glow?”

Vincent spun, pumping both fists into the air. “THE GREEN JELLY!”

As Vincent charged off again like a dog in pursuit of a squirrel. His mother, Jodi, called out after him. Haley turned to her friends and said, "I'm going to go and make sure he doesn’t jump off the docks. Have fun!”

Alex’s mouth pulled itself into a tight smile. He pleaded with wide eyes, begging for Haley to not go away. He still hadn’t sorted out his own thoughts yet, and he did not want to be in a one-on-one situation with The Farmer. Haley didn’t get the message—or she ignored it—and walked off. 

The Farmer had been oblivious to the silent exchange and was already making his way to the docks. Alex had to jog a few steps to catch up. He fell into stride next to the man, casting occasional glances over at him. When The Farmer caught one of these, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “What is it?”

“Nothing!” Alex said quickly. He wasn't even sure why he kept looking at The Farmer. He racked his brain for his best excuse. “I, ah, I was just wondering if you’ve ever seen jellyfish before?”

The Farmer shook his head. “Only in pictures.”

“Well, these ones glow just like fireflies. My grandma said the first time I saw them they stunned me into silence.”

The Farmer laughed, light and happy. The sound of it made Alex’s stomach flutter again. “Well if it has your seal of approval, then I know it’ll be great.”

The two of them found an unclaimed spot on the docks, and The Farmer sat down. He dangled his legs over the water, and Alex did the same. A cool breeze suddenly swept over them, and The Farmer hugged himself, suppressing a shiver.

Alex had his jacket off before his brain even registered the action. When he set it around The Farmer’s shoulders, he found the other man’s surprised eyes locked onto him. Alex felt his face flush as he yanked his hands away quickly. “You looked, um, cold?”

“Oh,” The Farmer looked down at the water below his feet. He tentatively touched the fabric of the jacket, like it might rip if pulled on too hard. “But, ah, what about you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Alex lied. Truthfully, he was never good with the cold. Why did he do it? He wasn’t entirely sure yet. But what he did know was that if he sat there warm and smug while The Farmer shivered himself to death on his first experience with this festival, the guilt would nag him for the rest of his life.

A small smile tugged at The Farmer’s lips. He left the jacket sitting on his shoulders, but pulled it slightly tighter around him. “Well, then thank you, Alex. That's really kind of you.”

Alex swallowed hard, "Don't mention it."

Robin gave a small speech then, granting Alex's mind a moment of reprieve. Her voice carried out over the sand and water, but Alex couldn't process his words. He was far to aware of the presence of the man sitting next to him to think of anything else. 

When she finished and lit the candle, everyone who had a paper lantern placed them on the water. Alex had to force himself to focus on the task or else his lantern risked sinking immediately. Then, as Robin's boat sailed out across the sea, the entire town sat in silence. The sea was calm tonight, looking just like a sheet of black glass. The lanterns and boat continued to sail out, and eventually the light of the candle disappeared in the distance.

It was a moonless night, but Alex’s hands gripped the edge of the dock so tightly he feared his knuckles were white enough to reflect the starlight. He and The Farmer were somewhat isolated, the nearest person a good fifteen feet away. Sitting here without the candlelight felt like they were suspended in open space. The stars twinkling above decorated the black ocean water below.

Then there was a glow in the far-off waters where the candle had disappeared. It gradually grew brighter as the light slowly came towards them, and when the shape of the first jellyfish became distinct, The Farmer inhaled suddenly. Alex looked over, finding The Farmer’s mouth open and his eyes wide. They danced with the light of the jellyfish, growing brighter until the sea life eventually swam all around the docks. The jellyfish were always breathtaking. Alex always thought that their tendrils resembled the elegant dresses from Haley’s magazines. They were hauntingly beautiful, ethereal even. 

Alex wasn't looking at the water. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from The Farmer’s fascinated expression. There was a pressure forming in his chest, but it wasn’t a bad sort of pressure. It was one that made him aware of his own heartbeat, one that made him feel light enough to walk out on the top of the star-covered water. He and The Farmer weren’t sitting that far apart, but he could feel the empty space between them like it was a solid block of ice. It had him overcome with the desire to shove it into the ocean.

“They’re incredible,” The Farmer said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“They are,” Alex murmured.

The Farmer looked over at him, and when their eyes connected, Alex suddenly yearned to close the distance between them. The look in The Farmer’s eyes changed. No longer fascinated. Instead, they were unsure, vulnerable, and they were, his eyes were…

Hopeful.  

Alex underwent a full, mental shutdown. He was no longer sitting on the dock. There was no ocean, no stars, no jellyfish. There was only him and there was only The Farmer. He wasn’t even sure he remembered to breath or if his heart was beating. He only knew that his body leaned forward, pulled like a magnet.

“Vincent!”

The water ruptured nearby, and Jodi’s voice cut through the silence, shrill and fearful.

The world spun as it filled itself back in around Alex. Vincent's body thrashed in the water near them, the boy’s cries becoming choked when he inhaled the seawater. Alex was vaguely aware of a green glow disappearing back into the sea. He felt shell-shocked, unable to react to the scene in front of him as he suffered from the mental whiplash of being pulled out of whatever had just happened. What he did register was that his jacket was tossed onto the dock next to him, and The Farmer’s body dove into the water.

Haley and Jodi rushed to either side of him, both women’s anxiety washing over Alex. Despite this, they had arguably better reactions to the situation. Jodi knelt at the edge of the dock, reaching out and ready to pull her son and The Farmer out of the water.

“A buoy!” Haley shook Alex, fear creeping in at the edge of her voice. “We have to find a buoy or Vincent’s panic might drown both of them!” Alex was pulled to his feet, scanning the darkness of the docks and trying to not let panic set in.

“My house!” Willy’s voice yelled from somewhere in the darkness. “There’s one on the door!”

Alex jumped up and spotted the white ring on the front of the fish shack immediately. He charged over to it and yanked it off the holding hook. He spun back towards the water. It was difficult to discern the dark figures of The Farmer and Vincent, but he was able to spot the boys’ bright hair whenever he surfaced. Vincent’s thrashing had pulled him farther out to sea, and The Farmer was struggling to keep the boy’s head above water. His gridball instincts kicked in, and Alex chucked the buoy out like a frisbee. It arced over the water. Miraculously, it landed directly in front of the two.

The Farmer pulled the ring to Vincent and the boy’s flailing limbs latched on immediately. Being able to keep above the water now calmed him, letting The Farmer push Vincent back towards the docks. Now that Vincent could keep afloat, his pain-filled shrieks and sobs washed over the beach.

Sam and Harvey shot past Alex, joining Jodi by the time The Farmer reached the docks. Alex stood back with Haley, dimly aware of Willy rushing into his home while Robin escorted everyone else back to the beach. She and Gus kept people back, claiming the dock couldn't hold everyone weight and that Harvey would need the space. Vincent was pulled from the water first, embracing his mother immediately. She held him tightly, rocking her son side to side and whispering comforting words with tears in her own eyes.

Willy emerged from his house carrying two stained, but large, towels and a first aid kit. He draped one around The Farmer after the man was pulled up by Sam. Harvey knelt next to Jodi, trying to coax Vincent out of her embrace. He held his phone in one hand, casting a light over them.

“I know it hurts,” Harvey said in a calm voice, “but I’ll need to see it to make it better.”

It took a minute, but Vincent was eventually able to pull himself away. His whole body trembled violently with pain as he held out his left arm. Irritated red welts from a jellyfish sting crisscrossed his forearm like it’d been whipped with wet spaghetti. Alex felt a chill rush through him as Jodi gave a horrified gasp. Harvey set about applying first aid while Willy handed the second towel to Jodi. Harvey gave very clear instructions to both her and Vincent to avoid touching the fabric against the red skin.

The Farmer walked over to Alex and Haley with his own towel pulled tightly around him. His waterlogged clothing dripped onto the dock and his body shivered from the ocean water.  

“Oh, you poor thing, you must be freezing!” Haley wrapped her arms around The Farmer in a hug, perfectly fine with getting her own clothes wet. He visibly leaned into the hug, attempting to siphon as much body heat as he could. Alex wanted to throw himself at The Farmer as well, seeing the way the man shivered so badly.

The Farmer’s wet hair was plastered to his face in an unusual direction. His bangs had been swept aside, revealing a pale U-shaped scar on his forehead. Alex reached out instinctively for it but halted himself. He still wasn’t sure what happened before Vincent had fallen into the water, but he didn’t trust his own body right now.

He coughed and was able to pass off the motion as an awkward gesture. “What happened to your forehead? Did you get stung?”

The Farmer’s hand shot up to cover it, brushing his hair back in an attempt to cover it up again. His teeth chattered together when he responded. “N-No. This is a-an old scar. I, I wasn’t s-stung. Sorry, but I th-think I should go h-home and change.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Harvey said as he stood with a frown. “That water is so cold that you could just as easily go into shock. You’re coming to the clinic with Vincent. You can change into a hospital gown.”

Jodi also stood, scooping Vincent into her arms and cradling him carefully. Sam, standing next to her with a concerned look, spoke. “I'm gonna run home to get Vincent a change of clothes. I can grab you some of my old clothes to borrow.”

“Wait, you're way shorter and smaller than The Farmer, nothing would fit him.” Haley said. Sam made a noise like he’d been offended, but Haley continued. “I’ll grab some of my dad’s old stuff. That’ll fit more comfortably.”

She and Sam charged off, followed briskly by Harvey and his entourage of patients. He was only able to exchange a quick look with The Farmer, before Alex was left alone on the dock with Willy. His insides felt like that had been violently pulled into multiple knots during the last ten minutes. Now that the adrenaline and excitement was wearing off, he felt himself deflating. He’d barely had enough time to register his own panic for Vincent and The Farmer’s safety. Now his body felt like it was trying to process both panic and relief at the same time. It felt like a million balloons were popping in his stomach.

Willy collected Alex’s jacket from the dock and handed it to him. Alex knew the man said something to him and that he responded, but his brain couldn’t comprehend speech right now. As he made his way down the dock and back towards his grandparents, few people said anything to him. They were talking among themselves, applauding The Farmer’s bravery or their sympathy for Vincent.

“He’s fortunate that The Farmer reacted as quickly as he did,” Alex heard his grandmother say as he approached them, unsure of what else to do.

“He reacted poorly is what,” George grumbled. “He did the last thing you’re supposed to do and dove into the water. What would have happened if you hadn’t gotten the buoy?”

Alex realized his grandfather was waiting for him to respond. His head felt like a mess and he really wanted to be alone right now. “A lot happened,” he eventually croaked. “We should probably head home now.”

“Hm,” George grunted. “Darn kid probably scared away all the jellyfish anyways.”

“Don’t sound disappointed. I’m sure we’ll be able to see more next year,” Evelyn said.

“Disappointed? If anything, I’m relieved! It’s always too cold this time of year.”

Evelyn laughed softly. “Whatever you say, dear.”  

Alex silently took position behind his grandfather and started pushing the wheelchair back towards their house. His grandparents continued to chat, but he didn’t listen to them. Right now, he just wanted to be home alone so he could think.

An Hour Earlier…

“I’m serious,” The Farmer whispered into his backpack. “Make sure you’re not seen. I know magic and monsters exist, but I really don’t want to explain to everyone that I’m basically making ritualistic sacrifices to nature spirits living in the community center.”

Red saluted from its hiding spot. “I’ll be careful.”

“Hey farm boy!” Another voice called. The Farmer threw the loose flap back over his bag, but purposefully didn’t fasten the velcro straps. Red shimmed its way up the side of a notebook and pushed the flap open slightly to peer out. The Photographer had approached The Farmer, and the two looked to be happily distracted by their discussion. Their backs were to the backpack and the sun had set, now was as good a time as any.

Red pulled itself out of the backpack and dropped into the sand. Without any hesitation, Red rushed forward, tagging the back of The Photographer’s leg, and diving for the cover of a nearby table. Red waited, the soft sounds of the beach and human chatter almost deafening. But moments passed, and The Photographer gave no sign of having noticed she’d been tagged.

Red gave a sigh of relief before summoning a small paper list. On it were crudely drawn faces of the townspeople, a gift from the Junimos that had scouted the town a few days previously. It found the face of The Photographer, and pressed its hand to it. When it lifted away, a small red check mark had appeared over the face. Red set the list in the sand, placing a rock on top to act as a paperweight.

The Junimo kept to its hiding spot, establishing a physical connection with everyone that approached the table to make their papercraft. Within an hour, Red had nearly everyone crossed off of the list. There were only five people left; The Athlete, The Rancher, The Guild Master, The Mayor, and The Wizard.

When there was no longer anyone standing at the table, Red took a chance to peek out. It spotted The Rancher almost immediately, speaking to The Girl on the far side of the beach. Red judged the distance as safe and ran out. It took shelter behind seashells as it crossed the beach, eventually reaching a sizeable piece of hollow driftwood near The Rancher. Taking up a new spot inside the driftwood, Red eavesdropped on the conversation.

“It’s really a beautiful ship, Jas,” The Rancher said. “You made this all by yourself?”

“Well, Vincent helped a little,” The Girl admitted, taking the paper back from The Rancher. “But we didn’t have any help from the adults at all!”

The Rancher patted The Girl’s head, who giggled. “That wonderful! Before I know it, you’ll be filling my house with all of your future creations.” The Rancher looked up. From Red’s hiding spot, it saw that The Mayor stood a few steps away. His hands were held on his suspenders and he wore an awkward half-smile. “Now Jas, why don’t you show Ms. Penny your boat?”

“Okay!” The Girl ran off, not paying The Mayor any mind as she did. The Mayor and The Rancher looked at one another, and The Mayor made quite a show of taking a single step forward. Kind of like an exaggerated first step of a bird’s mating dance.

But then someone stepped over the driftwood, coughing to clear his throat. Red looked up at The Guild Master. The old man stood as straight as possible, his face pensive and wary. “Excuse me Marnie,” he said, “But I’d like to have a moment of your time, if'in you’re not too busy.”

“Oh no, of course not! Go right ahead Marlon.” The Mayor said much louder than necessary. “I was just going to speak to Marnie about official city things. Business and taxes. Official taxes and things.” He coughed into his hand, turning away his face.

There was an annoyed twitch to The Rancher's eyebrow as she rolled her eyes. She turned and smiled at The Guild Master. “What can I help you with Marlon? Did you need some feathers for Gil’s pillows again?”

The Guild Master froze when her eyes fell on him. He swallowed deeply and then exhaled, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I’m actually here on personal business this time. And can I say you look lovely in the moonlight?”

The Mayor’s head snapped in their direction. The Rancher’s eyes widened, her mouth dropping open into a small ‘o’ shape.

The Guild Master ignored him. He threw back his cape and extended his hand, his palm outstretched. “Would you like to spend tonight with me, watching the jellyfish?”

“Oh, oh Marlon,” The Rancher said. “I, I had no-”

“No intention of watching!” The Mayor dove in between the two. “After all, we have city business to discuss.” He turned to The Rancher. “Right Marnie?”

The Rancher watched as The Guild Master’s body deflated, his arm dropping back to his side and his face flushing red. She frowned at The Mayor before pushing him aside and walked to The Guild Master’s side. She took his arm and gave him a bright smile. “I would love to Marlon.”

The Mayor’s lower jaw touched the sand in disbelief. “But, but, but,” he fumbled for his words. “But we have-”

“Just business to discuss, right?” The Rancher said with distaste. She frowned at The Mayor. “Lewis, it’s a festival night. If your only business with me is purely business, then surely we can put it off until tomorrow. You need to learn to let go of your position some time and just enjoy yourself.” She turned and smiled up at The Guild Master. “Now, did you have someplace in mind to watch the Jellyfish?”

The Guild Master beamed. “Y-Yes! I’ll escort you over.” The two walked off—a literal pep in The Guild Master’s step—towards the far and more secluded dock. Red made sure to tag them both as they passed. Red waited for its chance to tag The Mayor, but the man remained frozen. The Junimo only dared step out when a seagull swooped in to steal The Mayor’s hat, and the man didn’t even react.  Red scaled up The Mayor’s leg, waved its hand in front of the man’s eye, then shrugged and tagged his cheek.

“What did you do to Lewis?” Red turned to the voice, finding The Wizard had appeared.

“Perfect!” Red exclaimed. The Junimo leapt to The Wizard’s shoulder, quickly touching his face as well. “Did you finish my enhancement potion?”

“Well, yes, that one just finished.” The Wizard looked back at The Mayor. “But seriously, what happened to Lewis? Was it one of your powers?”

Red shook its head, pointing towards the secluded dock. “Dunno. Those two talked about something and then left.”

The Wizard looked at where Red was pointing, finding two shapes he recognized. “Oh,” He stepped over to The Mayor, patting the other man on the back. “That’s rough buddy.”

The Mayor didn’t acknowledge him.

The Wizard walked away, speaking to the Junimo on his shoulder. “Aren’t you supposed to be attuned to human emotions? How did you not understand what happened?”

“I’m a little busy right now.” Red said. “But can you bring me back home? We need to set up quickly. Oh wait!”

Red suddenly leapt off The Wizard’s shoulder and ran towards the path that lead into town. The Wizard watched as Red climbed the branch of a bush, waiting for the man walking down the path to pass it. Red sprang into the air as The Athlete passed, touching the back of his neck. The man immediately slapped his hand against his neck, probably assuming he’d been bitten by a mosquito.

Red rushed back to The Wizard, looking rather proud of itself. “I almost forgot the last one.”

“Probably the most important one,” The Wizard muttered to himself.

“So, can you bring me back home?”

“I’m not a Zuber driver,” The Wizard berated Red, but he’d already snapped his fingers. The two had appeared in the community center, startling the Junimo that were lounging about. “But it’s not like the author gives me any choice anyways.”

“Bloody hell!” Orange shouted, having toppled off a pile of rubble. “Give us some warning next time.”

The Wizard glared at Orange. “I’m sorry, would you like me to add some special effects next time? How about fireworks? Or maybe some strobe lights?”

Red leapt to the ground. “Don’t antagonize him,” it said. The Wizard was surprised that the Junimo even knew what the word meant. “I made sure to get everyone, so we gotta work fast. Blue, can you call everyone?”

Blue leapt to the top of a molding armchair. The spirit hollered, “ARTS AND CRAFTS TIME!”

Junimo began appearing from the woodwork, pouring through the main room and filing down another hallway. Curious, The Wizard followed, finding them gathered in the first room that branched off of the hallway. The door’s hinges had rusted away a long time ago, leaving the door itself lying in the hallway. Brightly colored and peeling paint on the door happily read ‘Crafts Room.’

The Junimo covered every surface of the room, leaving no space for The Wizard. He stood in the doorway instead, observing them. He noted the usual ringleaders—Red, Orange, Yellow, Blue, Green, and White—gathered at one side of the room. Red and White directed the others. Some pushed rotting furniture aside, others scaled the wall to pull away the peeling wallpaper and expose the drywall beneath.

“Potion please!”

The Wizard looked down, finding Blue at his feet. Blue held its hands out expectantly. Rolling his eyes, The Wizard reached into his robe and pulled out a triangular glass bottle. Blue leapt into the air and snatched it from his hands without so much as a thank you. The stormy red liquid sloshed back and forth as Blue made its way back across the room.

It wasn’t long before they’d cleared the entire wall. When the last strip of wallpaper had been pulled away, Blue uncorked the potion and poured the liquid over Red’s body. Immediately, the Junimo began to glow with a white light that swirled around its body. A collective ‘Oh’ rose from the other spirits as the light grew brighter. Red began to hum, getting louder as the light got brighter. The light eventually got so bright that The Wizard had to snap a pair of sunglasses into existence for himself.

With a fierce cry—The Wizard swore he heard the sprit cry out ‘Hadouken!’—Red expelled the gathered light and crashed it against the wall. The wall became cloaked in the energy, retaining the same brightness for a few moments before dimming. When the light faded away, the wall shimmered with portraits of the villagers. They were arranged from floor to ceiling with ten heart-shaped outlines following the portrait. Portraits towards the top had more of the hearts filled in while those towards the bottom had less.

The Wizard noticed his own towards the bottom while Alex’s portrait sat at the very top. He asked, “And what is this?”

“A physical manifestation of my powers,” Red explained. “I told you that I can resonate with human emotion, right? Well, this shows us how everyone feels about The Hero.” As Red spoke, two portraits shifted up on the wall, each of them having added a newly filled heart.

“What just happened?”

“We can find out!” Red leapt up and touched its hand to The Musician’s portrait. The entire wall flickered, changing to an image of the beach.

Sam was pulling The Farmer out of the ocean while his mother embraced his crying brother nearby. The Wizard realized he was watching an event unfold in real time. Well this definitely has the potential to be abused, he thought to himself.

“You’re using this to spy on him?” The Wizard said outwardly.

“Spying is such a dirty word,” Green said. “We prefer the term ‘friendly supervision.’”

Red touched the wall again, changing the image back to the portraits. “With this the other Junimo can help The Hero foster relationships with the other villagers, not just me.”

“We’ve been scouting out everyone’s like and dislikes too!” Yellow said happily. “People will like surely like The Hero better if he gives them gifts they love.”

“But we should make sure it’s only two gifts a week,” Orange added. “Anything more might come off as desperate.”

“Or creepy,” Green said.

The Wizard regarded the wall again. “Almost everyone on there has at least three or four hearts filled in. Why do you need to muddle?”

White coughed, steeping forward and authoritatively pounding its walking stick against the ground.  “We need to make sure what happened to The Hero’s ancestor does not happen to him. His ancestor once had strong ties to everyone that lived here. But even so, The Hero’s ancestor neglected his friendships and closed himself off. When he overworked himself, there was no one to look after him.”

“And then you lost your connection to the valley,” The Wizard said. “So, you’re only looking after The Farmer’s well-being, so you’re not abandoned again.”

White nodded solemnly. “It seems selfish, we know. But we feel responsible for the passing of The Hero’s ancestor. We once helped him cultivate the land, but we became too playful and shirked out responsibilities, forcing him to work alone. We do not wish for The Hero to meet with the same fate.”

Red touched the wall again, sliding portraits to the left and right like it was dismissing notification on a smartphone. “We’re only spirits,” Red said. “It’s best if The Hero can find lifetime friends he can confide in. But ultimately, we want there to be someone who is always by his side and genuinely cares for his well-being. His partner. Which brings us to this.”

Left on the wall were twelve portraits. The Wizard noted them all to be villagers around The Farmer’s age, all single. He realized what they were doing, but there were women and men on the wall. He spoke up, “Don’t you remember me telling you all that The Farmer was gay? Why do you have female marriage candidates up there?”

“Are you sure he’s not bi?” Blue spoke up. It actually held a smartphone in its hands. “According to this FeedBuzz article, 95% of people they surveyed say that they’re openly straight or gay, but are actually bisexual. The only reason they don’t openly come out as bisexual is because of all the biphobia in human culture.”

The Wizard narrowed his eyes at Blue. “Where did you get that?”

“I took it from The Gamer’s room.”

The Wizard snapped his fingers, poofing the phone out of Blue’s hands and back into Abby’s room. “Don’t take people's things without their permission. Also, if The Farmer says he’s gay then don’t question it. Even if he is secretly bi, it’s extremely invasive, and not to mention rude, to out someone’s sexuality.”

“Okay, okay,” Red swiped the portraits of the six women to the side. “Then we’ll split into teams and focus on improving his relationship with these six men.”

The Wizard sighed, half-tempted to snap himself a beer from The Stardrop Saloon. These spirits were either very stupid or very openly ignoring the fact that no matter what actions they took, they’d never be able to change the fact that they were a part of a ‘Male Farmer x Alex’ fanfiction. They should just be putting all their effort into Alex, seeing as the boy already had seven of the ten hearts filled out. He turned to leave, but a change on the wall caught his eye.

Alex’s eighth heart had just turned red.

 The glow of Alex’s alarm clock read 11:51 pm. The illuminated numbers judged him as he lay back on his bed in the dark. He’d been staring at his ceiling for the past fifteen minutes, listening to his heartbeat grow faster as he replayed the nights events over and over in his head.

The look in The Farmer’s eyes, what did it mean?

He reached blindly for his bedside dresser, pulling open the top drawer and feeling around for the fabric he knew was there. He found it and pulled The Farmer’s red bandana out. He held it above his head, staring at it. He’d had this since the night of the hurricane, but he’d kept forgetting to return it.

Another question crossed his mind. Why was he holding onto this? There was no way The Farmer even knew he had it. The other man probably had assumed it’d been lost in the storm. It did have a few holes in it and it was fraying on one edge. He could probably just toss it out as easily as he could return it.

He thought about that moment when The Farmer had looked at him on the docks. How every part of him had so desperately wanted to move closer to the other man. He easily imagined The Farmer moving closer as he leaned forward. It was so easy, Alex doubted his own memories. Had The Farmer been moving in before Vincent’s dive in the ocean?

The numbers on the clock flitted to 12:00 am. He lowered his hand to his chest, setting the bandana over his beating heart. It beat faster as he imagined himself sitting closer, imagined himself getting closer, and closer. 

Do I...like him?

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 2nd

Alex sat on the beach, casting his gaze over the dark ocean. The moon was only a sliver overhead, offering its dim glow to the valley. It was long past the hour since Gus had closed his Saloon and the usual late-night regulars had already retreated to their homes. It would soon be closer to dawn than midnight, but Alex couldn’t spend another second lying in bed. His body fumbled with nervous energy and needed him to do something with it. Something other than watching the numbers on his alarm clock change at an agonizingly slow pace.

He shifted in the sand slightly, but found it futile, as he was no more content with sitting here than he was on his bed. His fingers dug lazily into the sand, searching for any rock of a skippable shape. When he found one of agreeable size and heft, Alex flicked it out over the water. It flew for several seconds, skipped once, then twice, and on the third skip, it passed a figure standing in the water—a figure he recognized instantly. The figure turned as the stone skipped past him, continuing far, far out into the ocean.

Alex felt his heartbeat instantly start hammering at a breakneck pace as he met The Farmer's eyes. His mind raced, unable to believe that he'd completely missed out on the other man's presence. How long had The Farmer been here?  

The Farmer said nothing as he stood against the backdrop of the clear night sky, the stars twinkling behind him. His pant legs were rolled up to his knees and the waves lapped gently against his skin. The silence that was held between them grew, and Alex was suddenly  desperate to say something. With every ticking second, each wave that rolled up on the beach, it was harder and harder for him to muster up any words. However, it was not because of the situation. 

He'd grown to always expect a familiar, soft smile and gentle eyes whenever he looked to The Farmer. It was almost a shock to realize it, especially now that Alex wasn't greeted with it. Instead, The Farmers face was nothing; nothing but an unreadable, black shadow. No matter how long Alex stared at The Farmer's face, his eyes would not adjust.

He was suddenly nauseous, like Alex had eaten rotten eggs and he was seconds away from upheaving them. When he couldn't take the feeling anymore, he attempted to stand. Before he managed to pull himself up, a heavy force crashed into him. He was slammed down, hard, and landed on a hardwood floor.

Alex was smaller now. He felt it instantly in the way his body was suddenly foreign; him limbs were not the length they should have been, and he felt far lighter, more frail than he had in years. Tears blurred his vision, but what he make out through his blurry vision put a heavy weight in his stomach. He felt like he was sinking, drowning deep in the black ocean, because he knew exactly where he was.

The room was cold and a large area of his back blistered hot in pain. His father stood over him, holding Alex’s little league gridball helmet like a trophy in his hands. Alex wore the rest of his protective gear, but still shuttered at the feeling of being naked and useless without the helmet.

“Stand up,” the man barked.

Alex curled up more tightly on the floor, using all his willpower just to not start sobbing. He wanted to stand, he knew his father’s rage would grow if he didn’t. It only got worse if he started crying. Eventually, a large and forceful hand gripped Alex’s arms, jerking him to his feet. Alex didn’t look his father in the eye, fearful that he’d see the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. When his father released him,  his skin throbbed where he’d been held. An excruciating, but precise pain that would not bruise. Alex's cheeks burned crimson, unable to fight as his father began stripping him of his gridball gear. Each piece that was removed made him feel more and more venerable.  

When he finished, his father stood over him, holding the gear in his hands. “Grow up. Men don’t cry over simple things like this," he said and turned away.

“But mom-!” Alex cried out, but lost his voice the moment his father's glare snapped to him. A chill ran down his spine, but a ball of anger and rage had grown in his gut. Alex clenched his fists at his sides, summoning the courage to keep talking. He wanted to play gridball with the other kids so badly. After today’s practice, everyone had praised him with smiles and pats on the back. It made him feel...warm.

Alex returned his father’s glare, channeling the memory of that warmth. “Mom said this was mine. I wanna play gridball!”

His father held Alex’s gaze for what could have easily been an eternity. Suddenly, the man dropped the gridball gear to the floor. Alex recoiled, throwing his hands up to block whatever was coming and screwing his eyes shut. He prepared for whatever might be thrown at him.

But nothing happened.

After a moment, Alex slowly opened his eyes. His father had knelt down in front of him, gridball gear pushed aside. When he saw Alex's eyes open, his father reached out for Alex with one of his hands. Alex flinched away again, but all his father did was gently place his hand on Alex’s head. He ruffled Alex’s hair and smiled a sad smile.

“Listen kid,” he said, “your mother wants nothing more than to see you happy. Because she’s a good mother, right?”

Alex eyed his father warily. After a moment, his father pulled his hand away and his smile didn’t falter.

Alex nodded.

“I have to tell you something difficult, okay? Something that she doesn’t want to share with you, so this is going to be our secret, okay? We can’t afford this right now. Your mother and I already skip meals just so you can eat enough. If I don’t return this, she’ll have to skip even more. You know how hard he works to take care of you. You don’t want your mother to starve, do you?”

Alex’s gaze dropped to the floor. “No…”

His father began to pick up the gridball gear. “I’m just looking out for us, okay Alex? I don’t want to be the villain just because I’m doing what’s best for us.”

Alex didn’t say anything as his father left the room. He remained standing until he heard his father leave, and the apartment door lock. Tension released from his muscles, he collapsed onto the floor, devolving to a sobbing, screaking mess. He pounded his fists against the floor, trying to vent his frustration somehow. He’d wanted to play. He wanted to play so badly. His mother had only brought the gear home a week ago. She’d taken pictures of him posing in the gear, and even more after practice with his friends.

“It’s not fair,” Alex wailed, “it’s not fair! It’s not fair!” His sorrow turned to frustration, and his cries became wordless screaming.

A chorus of screaming joined with his own. Alex shot up, fearful again, finding he was no longer in his room. He stood in an underground passage and now held a small, burning torch in his hand. The smell of fear hung heavy in the air, the sour odor mixing with burning wood. He was older now, taller too, but not by much. Something in the back of his mind registered this as a moment from before he started middle school, after he moved in with his grandparents.

The screaming sounded young, similar to his age. Before he could find the source, several figures shot past him.

“Come on!” Abby yelled at him over her shoulder. She looked younger too; purple hair barely reaching her shoulders, wearing overalls and a black-purple plaid shirt. Alex had spotted an iron pipe gripped in her hands.

As she disappeared into the darkness, Alex felt a tug on his sleeve. Haley stood behind him, her grip tight on his shirt. She looked younger as well. Her blond hair was braided into pigtails and her blue dress covered in dark stains that Alex prayed to Yoba was just mud.

“We have to go,” Haley hissed with tears in her eyes. Her body shook, and her eyes screamed fear.

Alex nodded, and the two ran after Abby with their shadows trailing along the wall. Eventually, the passageway opened out to a larger room. Alex spotted Abby swinging the pipe at a hoard of bats that swarmed over the figure of a younger Emily. Sebastian and Penny, both also younger, were crying, huddling beneath Emily, who had thrown herself over them. All three were covered in scrapes and cuts, but Emily was worse off if the blood running down her legs was any indication.

Another boy stood next to Abby, one whose name he couldn't place, but he instantly recognized as a friend. The boy was also swinging into the flapping mass of bats, wielding a large tree branch. Alex ran over to them, adding his torch to the fray. As he swung, he thought he spotted an odd shadow out of the corner of his eye. It swam on the wall, vaguely resembling a shark, but he didn’t let it divide his attention. Alex swung faster, stronger, managed to knock a few of the bats away. Deciding they were outmatched, the remaining bats shrieked and disappeared down another passage.

Haley immediately dropped down to her sister’s side. “Emily, you’re bleeding!”

Emily pulled herself up. As she did, Abby launched herself at Sebastian and Penny, locking the two in a bear hug. She started sobbing herself.  “I’m so sorry,” Abby wailed. “I didn’t want this to happen. I-, I thought it’d be fun. I-, I thought…”

She trailed off. Emily reached over and gently gripped Abby’s shoulder. This gesture also sent a wave of calming energy over the other children. “It’s alright,” she spoke softly. “We know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen. We’ll get out of here.”

The boy wielding the stick looked exhausted. “But how?” he asked.

“We stay here and wait for the adults to find us.”

“But what if more monsters come back?” Haley asked. “Shouldn’t we try and get out of here?”

Emily shook her head. “When you’re lost, it’s better to stay put. The mines are like a maze, but we haven't gone very far in. I’m sure they’ve noticed we’re missing by now. When they start searching, we don’t want to miss them by also walking about.”

No one seemed happy with the idea, but none could offer an alternative. Alex’s torch was burning down dangerously close to his fingers. The heat was already licking at his skin. The others settled down on the cave floor around Emily. That is, all except for the boy with the stick. He had walked across the room and had begun pulling some of the weeds out of the ground. Alex watched him snap his branch over his knees and wrapped the foliage he’d gathered around it. Then he marched over to Alex and held out his hand.

Alex quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“It’s going to go out.” The boy said, referring to the torch. “We can light my stick, so we don't have to be in darkness.”

Alex wasn’t sure it was a good idea to burn green plants but handed his torch over regardless. To his surprise, the new torch sprang to life instantly. The boy dropped the old one and stomped out the flame. He handed the new torch back to Alex and went back to scouring the cavern.

All eyes were on the boy now, watching as he gathered anything that looked remotely flammable: sticks, moss, parts of a broken support beam. After digging a bit in the dirt, he even managed to find one of the creepiest looking dolls Alex had ever seen. The boy dumped the items in front of the other kids and began to arrange them until it resembled a fire pit.

The boy held the doll in his hands, gesturing for Alex to bring his torch closer. Alex walked over and held the flame out. The boy held the doll out like a ritual sacrifice until the head burst into flames. Quickly, the boy shoved the doll into an opening under some of the kindling. The rest of the doll’s body was quickly engulfed in flame, and a few moments later they had a warm bonfire burning away.

The children made collective ‘Oh’s’ and ‘Aw’s’ at his achievement.

“That’s amazing,” Alex said, moving closer to the warmth. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

The tips of the boy’s ears turned pink from the praise. He raised a hand, playing with the hair on the right side of his head. “My grandpa taught me. He said everyone should know basic survival skills.”

“You’re so cool!” Abby exclaimed, her previous fear already forgotten. “What else do you know?”

The boy sat down next to Alex and began to list off different things. How to set up a tent, how to find the North Star, what to do if you’re stuck in a room with a mime; an important first step for dealing with the mime was not crying and to find the nearest baseball bat. He talked for some time, the other kids interjecting with questions, and for a while everything was fine.

But as time passed the calm atmosphere they'd established, struggled to stay sustained. Every now and then, a monster's cry would echo from deeper in the mines, sending a chill down everyone's back and silencing whatever conversation they were having. It was hard to tell the passing of time, but to Alex, it felt as if they’d sat for hours. And now he really needed to pee.

Some of the others were nodding off, their exhaustion overtaking their fear. The other kids were all cuddled up against Emily, using her as a makeshift pillow. As discreetly as he could, Alex slipped off to relieve himself. Not wanting to do it in the same room as everyone else, he ducked into one of the passageways and around a corner, so he was out of sight. Hardly any light from their fire reached here, but at least no one would see him pee.

Before he even unzipped his pants, he knew he made a mistake. His eyes had only just started adjusting, but In the darkness, he saw dark outlines of monsters at least twice his size. They turned to face him simultaneously, yellow eyes twinkling in the darkness.

Alex knew what the smart thing to do was. He knew that he should turn away and run as fast as possible back to his friends. So naturally, that’s what he did. He did, of course, throw in a panicked and high-pitched scream. Just so everyone knew he was coming.

Despite the short distance back, his legs felt like they were burning. He didn’t hear the monsters follow, but he could feel their presence. The air behind him was chilled and frigid, sapping whatever warmth was left in his body. He burst back into the larger room, having awoken his friends with his scream. They all tactfully stood behind Emily, who was brandishing Abby’s iron rod. Before Alex could reach them, darkness swallowed the room. He could no longer make out the crevices on the cavern wall, nor see the very ground he was running across. The fire still burned, but its light cast no shadows on the black void that had engulfed them.

Emily pulled Alex behind her when he was in reach. Haley also grabbed onto him, her small hands shaking even more than before. Around the room, the dark figures with yellow eyes silently rose from the floor—the closet one was less than a foot away.  Emily swung at it.

The iron rod passed uselessly through its body. The monster raised one of its shadowy arms and batted her aside.

“Emily!” Haley let go of Alex to run to her sister’s fallen form. The other children remained where they were, frozen with fear.

“Alex.” A chill ran down Alex’s spine. The voice came from inside his own head, a voice he thought he’d never have to hear again. “Alex,” his father’s voice repeated. “I don’t want to be the villain.”

Several new shadows rose, some taking the shape of his father. He wasn’t sure what the others saw, but there were other voices that filled the cavern. The one closet advanced on him, its hands growing larger as it approached. “I’m just looking out for my family,” his father said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Alex batted the hand away and dove for the iron rod that Emily had dropped. “Go away!” he cried. There was no hesitation when he swung it at his father. The shadowy form dissolved and reformed, and so Alex swung again. Over and over he swung, flailing blindly at everything, as other shadows started to approach him as well. 

And then the rod caught on something solid. Alex’s head felt heavy as he looked up into the empty socket of a skull. With a cry, Alex stumbled away from the skeleton and fell, dropping the rod. The skeleton lunged for Alex. Before it could reach him, however, a rock collided with the monster’s collarbone, simultaneously dislodging its right arm and stunning it. The survival-savvy boy charged towards it, having picked up Alex’s dropped weapon. He leapt into the air and swung at the skeleton's skull. With a loud 'CRACK,' the skull sailed across the room, and the rest of the body collapsed into a pile.

Before he could utter any thanks, a cry drew Alex’s attention to the others. Emily lay unconscious on the ground while the skeletons were attacking the other kids. One held a shrieking Penny in its boney fingers, suspending her in the air while Haley clung to her foot in an attempt to pull the girl back to the ground. Sebastian had picked up burning sticks from the fire and brandished them at the other monsters.

The crunch of bone on rock brought Alex’s attention back. Two more skeletal foes had advanced on him and the other boy. The boy had dispatched them the same way as the first, but it was obvious he couldn't keep it up for long. The other monsters walked slowly towards them, as if savoring the fear they inspired. These ones wielded rusty weapons—one a spear, the other a sword. The spear-wielding one raised the weapon over its head, and when Alex realized it was aimed at him, he knew he was going to die.

“Go away!”

Blazing heat washed over the room. Shadows and Skeletons alike stumbled back. Haley managed to catch Penny when the other girl was dropped, and they both tumbled to the ground. Alex scrambled to his feet, and when he turned around he found the fire had grown to three times its original size. The fire flickered with red-white flames, dancing savagely as it dispelled the darkness. Abby stood closest to it, and Alex realized that it had been her who had screamed earlier. Her hands held a luminescent glow, which she stared at with wide-eyed.

“I found them!” A man’s voice echoed about the cavern. “We will be there soon! Quickly, you must make the flame yours, young one. Tell it what to do!”

The sword-wielding skeleton decided it had had enough. It charged at Alex again, its fellow monsters following suit. Abby raised her hands, which glowed brighter as she did, and screamed, “Leave my friends alone!” The bonfire became a pillar of white-blue flame, and an explosion rocked the cavern. The fire consumed the room, rushing forward as a tsunami of flame.  

Alex’s body moved on its own, and he tackled the other boy to the ground, intending to shield him from the flames. But as the fire passed over him, he only felt a gentle warmth. The monsters dying screaming filled the cavern, and Alex looked up. As the flames consumed the monster, only piles of ashes remained where the creatures ones stood. The fire dissipated when it hit the outer edge of cavern. The soft crackling of wood splitting in a normal-sized bonfire was the only sound that filled the air.  Alex and the boy stood up, and like the others, stared at Abby, who was staring at her own hands. Shock rendered everyone incapable of speech, and miraculously no one had been harmed.

Abby muttered very softly, her eyelids fluttering. "Did I do…that?" she said before falling sideways.  

A loud snap echoed around the room and a man materialized just in time to catch Abby before her head hit the ground. He wore black robes and a funny-looking pointed hat. His purple hair was the same shade as Abby's, tied back into a ponytail and his face was clean shaven. The man gently laid Abby down and said, “You used up too much energy and need to rest. I’m sure this was very traumatic for you.” The man looked around the room, meeting the children’s wild expressions. “For all of you, in fact. I'm sure your parents will ask me anyways, but it’s probably best if you don’t remember this event.”

The man snapped his fingers, and the remaining children collapsed to the ground. Alex’s own body felt like it he had been suddenly covered in a mountain of wet blankets, forcing him to the ground. He fought to keep his eyes open and managed to retain consciousness. The boy fell next to him, unable to do the same.

Another shadow rose up next to the man, but this one did not attack. It did not have the yellow eyes like the other. Then it spoke. “Is she alright?”

The man nodded. “Yes. Thank you for your assistance, Krobus, my friend. Without it, I would not have found them as quickly as I had.”

Krobus leaned over Abby’s sleeping form. “This human. She bears quite a resemblance to you. And she appears gifted with magic. Is she…?” Krobus let the question hang in the air.

The man did not look away from Abby as he answered. “She definitely has the raw talent. So much that I’m afraid she can’t control it. She might learn to control it, but not until her body is older and able to handle the strain.”

Their voices swirled in Alex’s head. He heard what they were saying but found it difficult to retain what was being said. His strength was fading quickly, and he knew he’d pass out soon. Before he did, he mustered enough strength to speak a single word.

“Who…”

The man and shadow looked up. The man rose and quickly jogged over to Alex. He knelt down before him, a curious look on his face. “That’s strange. How did you resist my magic?” He waved his hand over Alex’s body. A violet light, shaped like a veil, was cast over Alex. Instantly, the veil was thrown back, and the man’s hand recoiled as the light popped like firecrackers. The man narrowed his eyes, then cast a glance down at the other boy.

The man scoffed, irritation coloring his expression. “I see…”

“What is it?” Krobus asked.

The man rose. “It appears that my life as a supporting character has begun. You,” he addressed Alex. “You, young man, are in for an interesting ride. Neither of us will recall this event for the time being. That is, until you remember it in a dream.” He snapped his fingers.

Alex bolted upright, his body drenched in sweat. The cold, morning, autumn air crept in his bedroom through a slightly open window. He remained in bed for a few moments, reorienting himself with reality. Eventually, he threw the covers off and crossed his room to close the open window. His hands remained on the glass once it was closed, and he stood there, listening to his rapid heartbeat. Surely, he’d closed it last night, hadn’t he?

“Alex?”  

Alex spun. Sitting up in his bed, resembling a yawning cat in the way he was stretching out, was The Farmer. As the sheet rolled down his body, Alex's face flushed a burning, crimson red. The Farmer was shirtless, and Alex very shamelessly confirmed there was nothing else between The Farmer and the bed sheet. The fabric sat just below The Farmer's waistline, but still kept him hidden from view. Alex couldn't tear his eyes away from that patch of skin just below The Farmer's navel. 

"Babe?"

Alex's eyes snapped up to meet The Farmers, whose expression was both groggy but concerned. Alex quickly turned away, hands covering his face but unable to remove the image from his mind. With how hot his cheeks felt, he was surprised there was even any blood left in him to run brazenly southward. Yet, as he stared at the floor through his fingers, he could feel and see the effect The Farmer was having on him.

“Yoba fucking Christ, I have to be dreaming. I have to be still dreaming,” he muttered. “He’s naked. In my bed.”  He slapped himself. “Wake up Alex, wake up!”

“Alex?” The Farmer’s concerned voice spoke, much closer this time. A pair of arms wrapped around Alex's waist as The Farmer pressed himself into Alex's back.

The warmth from The Farmer’s body felt very real. Alex felt himself relax from the touch, reaching down to gently take one of The Farmer's hands in his own. Alex found himself calming down as the seconds passed, like this was the most natural thing in the world, like this was something that was supposed to happen. After a moment of hesitation, Alex turned around. 

The Farmer pulled away slightly. Alex said a silent prayer of thanks to Yoba, that his subconscious at least made his hallucination of the other man wrap himself in the bedsheet. Alex took a quick but steady breath, and slid his hands around The Farmer’s back, pulling him closer. He closed his eyes and put his forehead against the other man’s, resting there as his heartbeat began to slow.

As The Famer tightened his own grip against Alex, Alex thought that maybe he wasn’t dreaming. He didn’t clearly remember last night. Everything between the Dance of the Jellyfish to this moment felt like a blur. He remembered being unable to sleep, he knew that was true. So maybe he had gone to the beach last night. Maybe he had met The Farmer there, and maybe he hadn’t made himself out to be a total idiot. Maybe...The Farmer came home with him to talk about becoming something more.

He wasn’t sure how long they stood like that, he honestly wouldn’t mind staying like that forever, but The Farmer broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Alex's body felt heavy, and he yawned sleepily before nuzzling his face into The Farmer's neck. He leaned heavily into the other man. “About what?”

The Farmer laughed softly, letting gently walking Alex back towards the bed while not breaking their embrace. The two started a slow wobble across the room, like they were lone penguins on a glacier. “Well you got up so quickly that for a moment I thought I was home. Your spot was so drenched in sweat that I thought The Beas-, I mean, Saber, had wet the bed.”

Alex laughed. “I hope he doesn’t do that often. I’d hate to wake up to that when I stay over at your place.”

“Don’t change the subject,” The Farmer said sternly. “We’re talking about you.”

Alex ran his thumb along the skin of The Farmer’s back a few times before answering. “I was having a nightmare. About my father. And, I think something in a cave?”

The Farmer pulled away, and when Alex opened his eyes, he saw the other man looking at him doubtfully. “Your father took you in a cave?”

Alex frowned, attempting to recall the dream that was already fading from his mind. “No, I mean, after a nightmare about my father, I dreamt I was in a cave. I was fighting monsters, Abby was there, and there was something important about a fire.”

“Sounds eventful. Did you win, or did you wake up because you died?”

Alex furrowed his brow. “I don’t remember.”

The Farmer moved his hand to brush away Alex’s bangs. “Well that’s okay. I’ll keep the nightmares away.” He leaned in and brushed his lips against Alex’s. Alex kissed back immediately, his eyes closing as he pulled the other man even closer.

Before he could even start enjoying the kiss, The Farmer pulled away. Alex pouted, about to ask why, but stopped when he opened his eyes. It was no longer The Farmer in his arms, but something not even human looking. Its entire body looked like an oversized version of a child’s toy building block. It had short, stumpy arms, and impressions on its body that resembled a face. And there was more than one.

There was at least ten of them, balanced on top of each other while simultaneously holding up the bed sheet. The one on top, a green one, looked down at the other creatures and then back up at Alex.

“@#$*&@#%$!”

“AHHHH!” Alex screamed back. He stumbled backwards, tripping over the small stand he kept the extra weights for his bench press on.  He fell to the ground, knocking over some of his other equipment and sending weights crashing against each other and rolling across the floor. The bed sheet fell on top of him, but it felt more like it had been purposely tied around him. He thrashed and flailed on the ground, attempting to free himself from the 250 thread-count prison.

Eventually he ripped the sheet off of his head, finding himself alone and surrounded by the scattered weights. Before he could process what was happening, his bedroom door slammed open.

George burst in on his wheelchair, wielding a baseball bat menacingly above his head and screaming, “GET AWAY FROM MY BOY!”

Alex screamed back, which only prompted George to start screaming back and swing his bat. Between the panicked screaming and the blind swinging, George eventually made a swing so violent that his wheelchair tipped over. The man tumbled to the ground with a cry, and with all this screaming, Evelyn was surely having a heart attack in the next room.

“Grandpa!” Alex jumped up, running over to help George. “Are you okay?”

George resisted Alex’s advance to help for a moment, the adrenaline-fueled panic still pulsing through his system. Alex knelt beside him, seeing his grandfather start to calm down as the recognition crossed his grandpa’s eyes. “Well Yoba damnit Alex! Why the hell are you screaming so early in the morning? We thought you were being murdered.”

Alex helped George back into the chair. “I-, I’m sorry. I had a nightmare.”

George snorted. “A nightmare? Okay, well then, I’m going to convince your grandma you’re not being murdered by a home invader, and then going back to bed.” Alex stepped away as George started to wheel out of the room, but his grandpa paused at the doorframe. He turned his head slightly in Alex's direction. "Was it about him again?" 

A prick of shame touched him, but Alex figured a partial truth was better than nothing. "Yeah..."

George hummed, drumming his fingers on the wheel part of his chair for a moment. "Bastard's probably been long dead in a ditch somewhere," he continued. "But, come talk to us if you need to."

"I will." 

George left the room, and Alex gave his grandfather a small smile before closing the door after him. He remained there for a moment,  pondering everything his dreams had thrown at him last night. He knew his nightmare had been about his father and something to do the mines, but while the one with his father was still crystal clear, he couldn't recall much of the details from the mine.  On the same hand, he could easily recall everything about his dream with The Farmer – from the warmth of holding him to the words they’d shared. Hell, he still feel a lingering warmth on his chest from where the other man had pressed himself. 

What was it that made him recall that part of the dream so vividly?

A cold gust blew into the room, and Alex realized the window was still open. He crossed the room and closed it. As he latched the frame shut, he decided that focusing on the dream any further would drive him crazy.  He dropped back into bed and threw the covers over his head. Today was going to be his lazy day, and he prayed for dreamless sleep this time.

 Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 3rd 

Alex was lying back on one of the sofas in Haley’s living room. He continued to mentally rehearse his speech, running through new scenarios based on what Haley might say. His hands were folded together on top of his chest and he stared at the outdated popcorn-style ceiling. To distract himself from his unnecessary worrying, his mind was creating shapes in the plaster, giving birth to uniquely shaped plaster-constellations. Haley was in the kitchen humming to herself while she busied herself with preparing something, none the wiser to her friend’s inner turmoil.

A few moments later, Haley set two bowls of an ice cream sundae on the coffee table. Alex noted that while the portions seemed the same, Haley had drowned hers in toppings—from fruit to cookie crumbs to caramel sauce to whipped cream. She sat on the adjacent couch, twirling her spoon in her fingers before shoveling a first bite into her mouth.

“What’s this?” Alex asked.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Haley said. “You sounded pretty serious on the phone, and these kinds of conversations are always better with ice cream, right?”

Alex smiled. Leave it to Haley to have a pick-me-up ready. He sat up but left his spoon resting on the table. His palms felt sweaty and he had to keep his hands on his knees to keep them from shaking. “So, do you remember us back in high school?”

Haley nodded solemnly and then popped a strawberry chunk into her mouth. “Tragic times honestly. Remember how I used to hate everything pink and feminine?” She sniffled. “So many years, wasted, hating a perfectly good color.”

Alex forced himself to chuckle. “Yeah…” He picked up his spoon as steady as he could and forced himself to take a bite before continuing. He wasn't a drinker, but this felt like a moment he could use some of that liquid courage, as other people called it. Trying force the ice cream down his throat felt like trying to swallow a tub of glue. He put the spoon down before continuing, his eyes drilling holes into the carpet between his feet. “Remember that time when we were dating?”

There was a slight pause, and then Haley snorted. “You mean that time we told everyone we were dating, but were both too embarrassed to even hold hands? Yeah I remember.”

“What did that feel like for you?”

Haley gave him a cautioned glance. It was on the edge of being intimidating, but the whipped cream on her cheek diminished the scrutiny in her gaze. “Alex, I thought we both agreed that our ‘relationship’ then was teenage hormones and that we were just going to be friends.” She used air quotes when she said the word ‘relationship.’  “You...you don’t wanna get back together, do you?”

Alex's head snapped up to her, eyes wide. “N-No! Haley I-”

“Oh, thank Yoba,” Haley sighed heavily and placed a hand over her heart. “I thought I was going to have to break your fragile little heart.”

Alex forced himself to calm down, willing his heart to beat slower. Of all the scenarios he’d mentally gone through, this was not one of them. His words came out slightly sharper than intended. “Look, can you just answer the question?”

Despite his tone, Haley’s expression changed to one of amusement. She leaned towards him, flicking her spoon and spraying him with a little bit of leftover whip cream. “So, you’re telling me that my muscle-brained, gridball-fanatic bestie wants to talk about his feelings? Care to elaborate why?”

Alex wiped away the cream and frowned at her. He angrily picked up the spoon again and shoved more ice cream into his mouth, although he wasn't sure why he was angry. Maybe he felt embarrassed? His goal was to keep this conversation light and casual. He wasn’t trying to drop an information bomb on her. Haley kept leaning closer, her smile quickly resembling that of the Cheshire Cat’s. She was getting way too much enjoyment out of this.

“We we dated,” he said, “Or, when we stopped dating, you said that the only reason you asked me out was because everyone thought we’d make a cute couple. Our friends even said that they thought we had already been dating, so we should just make it official already.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haley waved her hand at him. “Peer pressure, fulfilling the cliché roles of the star gridball player and cheer captain dating, I understand all that. To be honest I'm glad they just left us alone after we broke up. But why do you wanna know how I felt?”

Alex recalled her tearful eyes when she’d pulled him aside and broken up with him. “You said you actually had feelings for me.”

Haley paused for a moment, just slightly too long that it made Alex worry. Her eyes flicked down and to the right for a brief moment. "No, I said I had a crush on you but you obviously didn't feel the same." She corrected. “Specifically, I had a crush on your dimples. You really are too cute for your own good.”

Alex reddened. “Look, my point is, I never really had a crush on you back. So, I’m not sure what it’s supposed to feel like when I do have one.”

“Oh?” Haley jabbed at him, her voice coy. “And do you have one?”

Alex smacked her hand away, “So what if I do?”  

Haley’s smile widened even further. After Alex had a moment to process what he’d just said, he reddened to the point that he looked sunburnt. He might as well have just screamed ‘Yes!’ “I mean,” his voice squeaked, “maybe? Dear Yoba, I don’t know.” Alex buried his head in his hands.

Haley patted Alex sympathetically on the back. “Okay, okay, I’ll quit teasing you.” She resumed eating her sundae, and between bites she said, “Well, imagine a romance movie. My blood raced, my heart fluttered, my mind went blank with happiness. I imagined music videos for us to go with every love song I heard on the radio. Plus, I found myself skipping on my homework just to hang out with you more. So,” Haley prodded him again. “Is there someone that makes you feel that way?”

Alex mumbled into his hands.

“Alex, if you want to talk to me about it, you’ll have to actually talk to me about it.”

Alex lifted his head and mumbled again, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

Alex threw up his hands. “I honestly don’t know if I just really like being his friend or what.”

“His friend?”

Alex’s first instinct was to crash through the window, flee into the mountains, and beg Linus to teach him the noble art of hoboing. His fight or flight response was cranked up to full force, and everything inside him was screaming flight. The world felt like it'd dropped out from under him.

"Alex?"

He couldn't look at her. She sounded, well, not like he’d expected. Not that he’d expected her to sound like anything to begin with. A memory rushing up into his mind. It was a usual summer day for them, a year after they’d graduated high school. Haley lounged in a chair near the ice cream stand, stretched out and looking like a model readying for a photoshoot, as was typical. She’s always carried herself like that, fully confident in everything she did. He’d asked the question without really thinking about it first: ‘Why don’t you ever hang out with anyone from high school anymore?’

Haley gave her answer casually, while turning the page of the magazine she was reading. ‘There are some people you’re only friends with because you’re forced to see them every day,’ she said.

Is that how she viewed him as well? Were they only friends because she had to live here? She’d complain on occasion about how she hated living in the boonies, but never showed any ambition to actually moving to the city. Would things going to change now? A sudden fear overtook him as he realized she was the only person he opened up to. The only person I could talk to about this. He needed to talk about this. 

But holy shit, was he having a formidable time using his vocabulary. It felt like a cat had stolen his brain rather than his tongue. He couldn't even look at Haley right now. She was his best friend, self-proclaimed love mogul, but some baseless fear of rejection paralyzed him. His vision tunneled in on a lose threat in the carpet. He should probably bring that to her attention, instead of talking about something dumb and sappy like his feelings. That wasn’t too obvious of a topic changer was it?

“Alex?” This time, the concern in Haley’s voice was evident to Alex, but he still couldn’t find the words.

Haley reached out and gently touched Alex’s shoulder.

Alex, not expecting the contact, flew across the couch like he’d been stung by a bee, pulling himself into a tight ball against the armrest. “The Farmer!” He exclaimed.

Haley’s hand hovered in the air, just above where Alex had been. “The Farmer,” she said.

His checks flushed, and he felt a frog lodged in his throat. He forced himself to swallow it, knowing he had to keep talking before he froze up again. “I-I think I have a crush on-, on The Farmer.”

“Oh?” Haley brought her hands together in front of her, pressing her fingertips together, and then lifted her right leg high in the air before crossing it over her left leg. “And you were doing so well. You managed half a sentence with gender neutral pronouns, but then you had that pesky Freudian slip.”

Alex’s mind was only able to process a few of those words. “W-What?”

“I’m teasing you Alex,” Haley folded her hands into her lap. The playfulness in her expression lessened, but she was still smiling. “I know that’s probably a little insensitive of me right now. I'm just trying to make you feel more comfortable. So, I want thank you for feeling you could talk to me about this.”

Alex’s heartbeat was steadily decreasing from the rate he hadn’t even realized it’d elevated to. He furrowed his brow as he attempted to reclaim his ability to speak. “Haley, you look like our old guidance counselor when you sit like that.”

She stroked her chin, running her fingers over her non-existent goatee. “Ah, but isn’t that why you’ve come to me? You’re asking me for guidance about your feelings, aren’t you?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“And what do you mean, ‘You don’t know?’ You’ve said that many times already.”

Alex glared at her, but knew he shouldn’t. She was offering to help, in her own way. “You’re being pretty casual about this,” he said.

“I had a feeling something was going on between you two,” Haley admitted. “But I didn’t want to assume anything until you actually told me what was going on. So, again, what do you mean when you say you don’t know?”

Alex’s body unwound itself slowly. His feet lowered back to the floor, he felt himself un-fusing from the armrest.  “Well, ever since I stopped helping him out at the farm, it just feels...different to be around him?”

“Different,” Haley repeated. She looks seconds away from whipping out a pen and paper, turning this into one of his old therapy appointments. She’d probably even charge him for it. “Can you elaborate on that?”

Alex sighed. “I guess it feels like I need a reason to see him now. I had an excuse to see him every day last month, and after a while I realized that I just liked talking with him. Everything he does has so much thought put behind it. And when he talks about his work, he throws out all these technical terms like nothing. I mean, he started life as a farmer only two months ago! It’s, I don’t know, intoxicating listening to him. When you get him started on something he's passionate about, or some problem he's trying to work out, he just brightens up the whole room.”

Haley smirked. “So, you’d be content to listen to his voice and nothing but his voice day and night?”

Alex’s face reddened again. “I didn’t say that.”

“Oh honey, but you did.”

Alex chucked a throw pillow at her.

Haley giggled, setting the pillow on the floor after she caught it. “Okay, okay, I’ll be serious. But you’re getting off topic. You never said why it feels different to be around him.”

Alex took a moment before answering. “I guess while helping him out, I realized how busy he actually was. I’m still waking up every day feeling sore. He does all that work day in and day out by himself, and yet he still plans on expanding his fields. Every time someone visited, they only came because they had business with him. You were the only one who showed up to socialize.”

“So why can’t you just show up and socialize?”

“Because now he’s back to working. I'll be just a pest and bother to his work. And I mean, look at me,” Alex guested at himself. “What kind of business does a seasonal ice cream man have with a farmer?”

“Couldn’t you offer to help him out again?”

“I already tried that,” Alex sighed and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through his text messages for a moment and then handed it to Haley.

Alex: Morning farm boy!

Farm Life: Morning. What’s up?

Alex: nothing, just bored

Farm Life: Aw, is Dusty refusing to play catch?

Farm Life: I’d offer Saber to you, but you know he can barely catch mice as it is.

Farm Life: I think frisbee is a little out of his skill level.

Alex: haha, very funny

Alex: actually, i was wondering if you wanted any help again?

Alex: i honest to yoba think i could die of this level boredom

Farm Life: Thank you, but I’m fine.

Farm Life: I’d feel bad if you kept working for me without me paying you.

Alex: you don’t have to pay me

Alex: weren’t you hurt saving vincent?

Farm Life: Thank you for your concern, but I’m fine.

Farm Life: Besides, I wouldn’t want to cut into your gridball practice

Farm Life: :p

Haley handed the phone back. “Two things. One, considering your brain is a literal gridball, he’s probably joking about that last part. Two, you need to really work on coming off as less desperate.”

Alex mumbled to himself, something about how he wasn’t being desperate. “I just, I wanna hang out with him more, but he’s so busy. He doesn’t have any sort of weekends or holidays. I feel like if I don’t have a reason to see him, I shouldn’t.”

Haley frowned at him. “Shouldn’t just wanting to see him be enough reason? If he asks you can just tell him that. Personally, I’d be pretty flattered if a cute guy showed up with his only reasoning being that he wanted to see me.”

Alex tried to not let the embarrassment show on his face. He wasn’t used to all this direct praise about his looks. “But what if he interprets it the wrong way?  I don’t even know if my feelings are platonic or romantic yet.”

After a few moments, he looked back at Haley. She held her hands together in front of her mouth, her fingers laced together. Her bottom lip was extended slightly, like she was thinking of something distasteful. “Okay, Alex, before we talk about this any further, I gotta ask. Should you really be entertaining these possibly romantic feelings you’re having?”

Alex looked at her incredulously, like his best friend has suddenly been replaced by someone that looked exactly like her. “What?”

“Hear me out,” Haley said, raising her hands in defense. “I know you must be taking this seriously if you want to talk to someone about it, but have you asked yourself if The Farmer would even reciprocate these feelings.”

Alex breathed out and looked away. He felt stupid, even slightly ashamed for his previous mental rehearsals of this conversation. Haley was concerned and just looking out for him. They survived the hormone-fueled hellscape that was high school and even came out as best friends on the other side. Of course nothing would change between them.

But what she just said implied that she didn’t know about The Farmer’s sexuality. He probably hadn’t told her yet. Alex wasn’t sure how The Farmer felt about letting other people know. He’d mentioned once or twice about people who had reacted poorly, so maybe he didn’t want other people spreading it around yet. Since Alex wasn’t even sure of his own feeling, he decided it was probably best to keep The Farmer’s sexuality to himself for now.

Haley continued. “I’m assuming that pause means you don’t know. And if that’s the case, then I don’t you should entertain these feelings. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. I know you two are close now, but what about your relationship further down the road?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Haley sighed heavily and frowned, “first off, have you read those text messages? He seemed to close himself off and get super formal when you offered to help out. It's possible that you're making him uncomfortable by offering. Plus, what if he’s not into men? You could confess to liking him and you’d have two outcomes. He’d reject you and then you’d either remain friends or he’d get weirded out and push you away, and would you want to remain his friend after that?”

“Why’d he be weirded out?”

Haley raised an eyebrow. “Well, there’s a lot of men out there that react negatively to finding out that other men find them attractive.”

“Really?” Again, he recalled something The Farmer had said before, about confessing to a high school crush when they graduated. It ended up with The Farmer getting a black eye, and Alex had always just assumed The Farmer's old friend was just an asshole.

Haley stared at Alex for a moment too long, making him feel uncomfortable. But then she started laughing. “Oh Yoba, bless you for shielding this sweet summer child from toxic masculinity.” She continued before Alex could say anything else. “Okay, this is going to become an entirely different conversation if I get into it, but here’s the short of it: too many men out there think that they can’t admit other men look good. Doing so in any way shape or form makes them look like a woman, or gay, which they believe is bad. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like you’ve picked up any of that.”

“Well,” Alex scratched the back of his head, “I’ve guessed I’ve always thought that both men and women can be attractive. I never thought it was a bad thing to think. I’ve just never thought about dating another man before.”

“You mean before The Farmer came along, right?”

Alex frowned. “Do you see why I want to talk to someone? I’m not sure what romantic feelings are supposed to feel like.”

“Hm,” Haley scooped the last of her sundae into her mouth, then when to work on Alex’s half-finished and half-melted one. “Well, have you considered The Farmer’s feeling at all? How does he feel about you?”

“We’re friends of course,” Alex said.

“But have you guys actually talked about it at all?”

“Talked about it? Don’t real friendships just natural happen?”

“They can,” Haley admitted. “But from what I’ve heard you say, you’re not even sure of your own feelings on the relationship. What if you do have a chance with The Farmer, but you decided that you’d rather remain friends because you weren’t sure? Then what if further down the line you realized your feelings are romantic, but he’s with someone else? Could you keep up your friendship with him and still harbor these feelings?

“When you know how the other person feels, it's easier to sort out your own feelings. If you think you want to pursue a relationship with The Farmer, then you should talk to him about it. Talking about your relationship will get you closer to an answer than remaining quiet.”

Alex regarded her for a moment with an awestruck silence. “You certainly seem to know a lot about relationships.”

“Don’t you remember my senior project in high school? Last day of school turned in a fifty-page essay about a study on different forms of communication and how they affect our daily lives. Plus, I am taking online classes to appease my parents, and my focus is on communication studies. You should feel that I’m more than qualified to be the one offering relationship advice."

Haley brandished her spoon at him, “Plus, look at my competition. Everyone who’s actually in a relationship in this valley is already married—and their advice would be old fashioned—so that leaves you with Clint and Lewis. Cint’s relationship with my sister is non-existent since he’s got no backbone, and you really don’t want to end up like him. Lewis likes to think his relationship with Marnie is a secret, but I imagine that puts unnecessary strain on their relationship. I mean, nobody’s seen Lewis since the Jellyfish festival.” Haley paused, concern crossing her expression. “You know, we should probably check his house after our talk.”

“So, what you’re saying is despite any real experience of your own on the subject, just researching it is enough to make you an expert?”

Haley lightly smacked Alex on the nose with her spoon. “I’ll have you know I’m perfectly happy without a romantic relationship in my life right now. I’m a strong and independent woman who only needs the occasional assistance with opening pickle jars.” She scooped up the empty ice cream bowls and went to deposit them into the sink. She turned on the faucet and began to wash them. Then she said, “So, as your official romance advisor—”

“Please don’t call yourself that,” Alex interrupted.

“I need to know. What has our local farmer done to capture your affections?” Haley teased, “what sort of conversations have you two had that made you start questioning your feelings?”

Alex had the urge to sink deeper into the couch until the cushions swallowed him whole. But at the same time, the prospect about talking to someone about The Farmer was...very appealing. He couldn’t find himself to look Haley in the face right now—his own was still burning—so he raised his voice while keeping his back to her. “What do you wanna know?”

“Anything,” Haley said. “Just tell me what you know about him.”

“He’s not close with his parents, but I know he really loved his grandpa,” Alex said immediately. “Whenever he talks about farming, he pulls his grandfather into the conversation. It’s usually some story from his childhood about how his grandpa taught him something. It’s kinda endearing to see how easily he can talk about his grandpa.” Alex continued easily, surprising himself at how easily he could recite some of The Farmer’s stories.

Haley listened silently as she took her time washing the dishes. A small, knowing smile touched her lips.

In the middle of one of the stories, Alex stopped. Fireflies suddenly danced around the room as another memory came rushing into his mind. Just him and The Farmer, sitting side-by-side, staring out at the field. Despite the humid air and their close proximity, Alex remembered a chill hanging around their conversation and the downcast look in his eyes as The Farmer tightly gripped the decks edge.

“He’s afraid of being alone,” Alex said aloud.

The front door opened in that moment, and Alex jumped so high he almost hit the ceiling. Emily shuffled in, brown paper bags filled with groceries supported in her arms. “Oh, hello Alex,” she said, closing the door with her foot. “Don’t mind me.”

“T-That’s alright,” Alex stuttered, feeling very flustered. He quickly swiped up his jacket and made his way to the door. “I was actually just leaving.”

Alex managed to slip on his shoes quick enough, but when his hand touched the door, he was stopped by Emily. At first, Alex didn’t even realize it was Emily that had stopped him. All he had registered was that a leg materialized in his way. She had thrown her foot against the door and was leaning very close to him, her face only a few inches from Alex’s head.

Emily glared at him. “I sense...something.”

Alex’s head turned very slowly to face her. “You, you...what?”

Emily leaned in further, forcing Alex to lean away. His back found the wall all too quickly as she came practically nose-to-nose with him. He actually would have found the feat very impressive if she wasn’t simultaneously making him feel like a cornered rat.

“You’re radiating a very…peculiar energy,” she said. “Your aura is filled with conflicting emotions, stemming from...something.”

“Haley?” Alex’s voice pleaded at a volume that was no more than a whimper.

Haley was going to be no help to him. She had forced herself to turn away with her hand over her mouth to smother her laughter. Every so often a snort would escape her.

Alex knew that Emily was a strong believer in all that personal aura and good vibes stuff. Haley usually had some new story about what unbecoming activity her sister was up to. He’d even gleaned peeks inside her room from time to time and seen various crystals and tools gathered on her shelves. But he’d never experienced her occultist hobbies firsthand.

“No!” Emily cried. In a flash, she set the bags down and cupped Alex’s face in her hands. “Not something,” Emily said. “Someone is causing this. But you don’t seem as if you’re cursed. Who did this?”

A mental image of The Farmer popped into his mind.

Emily’s intense stare quickly switched to a warm smile. “Oh! Oh, I see.” The sheer intensity that had surrounded her dissipated instantly. She stepped back and clapped her hands together. “Oh Alex, congratulations! I’m so happy for you. Have you two set a date for the wedding yet?”

Haley roared with laughter, filling the house as her hand became unable to contain it any longer. Alex’s entire body flared red. Seeing as his escape route was clear again, he fled without a word.

Emily frowned, turning to her sister. “Was it something I said?”  

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Day: 5^th

The turbulent sky outside reflected The Farmer's mood; thick grey clouds blocked out the sun and the winds wiped fallen leaves about town. The Farmer was forced to do his Community Center work mostly in the dark.  He had to use the flashlight function of his phone just to make sure he didn’t hit his thumb. He hammered away, quickly driving nails into the new two-by-four he was attaching to one of the support beams. It'd become routine after a could of days, heading directly to the Community Center after his morning chores. He was no carpenter, but he figured he knew enough to keep the building from collapsing in on itself.

The Junimos watched quietly from the sidelines. Like how rabbits or squirrels would watch someone taking a stroll through the woods, unsure if the person walking through their home was a threat, waiting for the opportune moment to flee. Normally this wouldn’t bother him—they almost never shut up when he came around—but today he wished they’d be their usual, annoying selves and ask him what he was doing. If he could explain what he was doing, as he was doing it, it would waste his time. And if he wasted his time explaining then he wouldn’t waste more time toiling over that dumb question. The dumb question that had robbed him of sleep for the last four nights. And great. Here he was, thinking about it again.

Alex wasn’t really going to kiss him that night, was he? Every second The Farmer allowed himself to entertain the thought that a kiss was possible, was a second he felt his sanity slip away. Try as he might not to, he was beginning to invent all these intricate scenarios in his head in which he and Alex would be together. He was stuck in his own head, reflecting on all of his interactions with the man and seeing if any of Alex's intentions had a the possibility of being more than platonic. 

That night, when The Farmer sat in the clinic and waited for Harvey to give him the all-clear, he told himself it was the adrenaline that had made him imagine the situation. Then the night after, when he woke up from a dream of Alex wearing far too little clothing, he told himself that he was overstressed and just pent up. The night after that, when he had the same exact dream, but with Alex wearing even less clothes than before, he told himself he was just really overstressed and pent up.

But last night, his dreams had recreated the night of the Dance of the Jellyfish. This time, Vincent was nowhere to be seen. They were completely alone on the beach. In that moment, when he looked over and found Alex staring at him, The Farmer’s heart stopped. He was inexplicably drawn towards Alex. Something behind those emerald eyes of his spurred The Farmer on.

As they were finally about to met each other, Alex reached out for him. His hand gently cupped The Farmer’s cheek and pulled the two of them together. The second before their lips touched, The Farmer woke up with a wetness in his eyes. He had remained in bed, unable to return to sleep or stop the tears falling from his face. And in the company of the empty cottage he finally admitted that he was in full-fledged denial.  

That was the worst thing he’d ever done to himself—validate his own feelings.  He’d had this same internal argument over and over, all ending with the same infuriating “What-if’s?”

Alex had a very obvious attraction to women. At least...that's what The Farmer thought at first. The worst thing about being self-reflective is that you get to relive every cringe-inducing interaction you ever had with someone. The more he reflected on his conversations with Alex, the more he realized that beyond his comment towards Haley, The Farmer had never actually heard of Alex talk about women. Half the time, when The Farmer attempted to bond with some of his old male coworkers, the conversations always ended up about women and their bodies; thus ending any interest The Farmer had in pursing a connection with his old coworkers. 

What if that comment had just been a cover? Plenty of people liked to annoyingly proclaim their heterosexuality in order to cover up any possible notion that they were anything otherwise. Usually the louder someone was about being straight, the more insecure they were about their own sexuality. Maybe now that Alex knew The Farmer wouldn't judge him for not talking about tits all the time, he was dropping that pretense. The Farmer had only lived here for two months, but it didn’t feel like the residents of Pelican Town were actually members of a super-secret, anti-homo cult. It was unlikely that Alex felt unsafe about coming out. That is, if he even was in the closet.

But what if Alex was still in the closet? What if The Farmer did have a chance? Why the hell was he running away from it? He literally could not have jumped into that water any faster. Sure, it was for Vincent’s safety, but he felt relieved to use possible hypothermia as an excuse to not see Alex. 

Any sane person who had the full attention of a literal ray of sunshine named Alex should have been jumping onto the bus to makeout city. The way that Alex had looked at him, the way he felt himself gazing back at Alex, everything else around him should have faded from consciousness. Instead, The Farmer remembered being very aware of Vincent’s excited footsteps on the wooden docks. He was pretty sure he’d even launched himself off the dock before Vincent hit the water’s surface.

What if I’m scared?

No, that’s stupid. He’d been with other guys before. He’d even been with guys he’d thought would be in his life forever. It’s not like he was afraid of commitment or anything. But then why did he always wake up right before he’d kissed Alex?

With a heavy sigh, The Farmer brought his head against the support beam a little too strongly. He wasn’t doing his mental health any favors by running through all these hypothetical questions and scenarios. He had a new business he was struggling to keep afloat and on the side he had the Junimos; they were basically a horde of five-year-old’s he’d willingly adopted in order to screw over his old boss. He didn’t have time to think about his love life.

From his pocket, The Farmer's phone buzzed. The scowl he wore only intensified when he read the message. 

MOM:  Just checking up on you. Your father and I haven't heard from you in a while.

The Farmer sent a thumbs up emoji as a reply before shoving the phone back into his pocket. He had enough on his mind as it was. He stood, walked over to his backpack and dropped the hammer on the floor next to it. When it clattered against the floor, the building shook. He froze, throwing a very confused and concerned glance at the hammer lying on the floor. Then the building shook again, dust falling from the rafters. His first thought was an earthquake was hitting Pelican Town.

A window shattered as an object came flying through it. The Farmer instantly recognized it as Blue. Blue rolled once it hit the ground, an attempt to look like an action-flick hero. It almost worked, but the Junimos were too round to pull off any sort of 008 impressions. Blue was poised to launch itself back out the window but froze when it noticed The Farmer staring down at it. There was an awkward silence, and the building shook again.

The silence was interrupted only by the ringing of The Farmer's phone. He pulled it out and sent his mother to voicemail. The Farmer crossed his arms after pocketing the phone and frowned at the spirit.  “So, care to explain what’s going on?”

“What’s there to explain?” Blue’s voice cracked like a teen going through puberty. “Please continue your work! There is nothing going on outside. That was nothing!”

The building shook again.

“Right, nothing.” The Farmer echoed. He held his gaze with Blue. The spirit shrunk under his gaze, droplets of sweat covering its body. Blue clearly did not handle pressure well. “So, what are you guys all up to then?”

“O-Oh, you know. Just simple things. There’s obviously no problem outside!”

“WE HAVE A PROBLEM OUT HERE!” Red’s shrill voice screamed from outside.

“My brethren!” Blue threw itself out the window, Farmer forgotten. Or perhaps Blue realized that lying would get it nowhere at this point.

The Farmer's phone rang again as he stared out the broken window after the Junimo. After seeing it was his mother again, he sent the call to voicemail and rapidly sent a text that said he was in an important meeting with the mayor and would call her back. Surely that would get her to leave him alone for now. He doubted he'd be able to answer anything from the interrogation he knew she'd drill him with while also trying to deal with whatever chaos the Junimo's were sowing.   

He followed Blue, but unlike the spirit, The Farmer purposefully chose to use the door instead of the window. Outside, he saw Blue charging in the direction of the Joja Mart. The Junimo jumped off the cliff overlooking the river, and the ground shook again. Like a geyser, water shot nearly fifty feet skyward, gushing up from the river.  As the water fell back to earth, The Farmer noticed the bodies of Green and Yellow had been caught in the geyser.  

The Farmer quickly stepped back into the Community Center to avoid getting rained on. He heard the ‘thump’ from one of the Junimos landing on the roof. He assumed it must have been Green, because when he stuck his head out again to check on the situation, he just barely managed to catch the sight of Yellow body slamming an unfortunate and low-flying woodpecker.  

Green leapt off the Community Center roof with a scream and took no notice of The Farmer. Yellow thanked and also apologized to the woodpecker—from all the squawking and screaming The Farmer assumed the bird had some very choice words to share with the spirit. Both spirits charged back towards the cliff and leapt off.

“Okay…” The Farmer said to himself. He looked around, seeing he was alone. “I guess whatever is happening isn’t that serious?” He stepped out from the safety of the building and made his way towards the cliff. When he reached it, he first thought was that he was dreaming. Just below the cliff’s edge was The Wizard. He was reclining in a lawn chair that hovered midair. A large bowl of popcorn also hovered nearby and occasionally kernels would throw themselves into The Wizard’s mouth.  

“You’re all doing fantastic,” The Wizard called out, spewing the crumbs all over. “A few more minutes and I’m sure you’ll take it down!”

“We could use your help!” White’s voice yelled back.

“Oh, you know I would, but I used all my magic conjuring that potion. You spirits are on your own.”

The Junimos were all on the riverbank, facing off against what appeared to be a twelve-foot mud monster. There were two impressions where its eyes should be, and a row of sharp stones served as its mouth. It wasn’t something The Farmer had ever seen in the mines before. The Junimos themselves were cloaked in glowing, yellow light, throwing balls of energy at the monster as they jumped around to avoid its attacks. The monster looked mostly annoyed with the spirits—in fact the Junimos didn’t appear to be doing any real damage.

The monster roared, but the sound it made was more akin to a screaming rabbit than any monster The Farmer had heard before. It jumped once, landing back in the river and shaking the ground. Water erupted from under the spirits feet again, throwing Red and White into the air this time.

The Farmer swore he’d seen this exact scene in Dragon Sphere Y years ago, but there was one addition that he had trouble processing: Morris. Morris, the Joja Gremlin, was held captive in the monster’s fist. His glasses were askew, held to his face only by the dry mud that also covered his mouth, and the unmistakable red bowtie still clung to his neck. The two men locked eyes, and The Farmer saw the unfiltered fear in Morris’ eyes.

The Farmer brought a hand to his face and closed his eyes. “I’m hallucinating,” he said. “All this lack of sleep and now I’m hallucinating.”

“Oh no, this is all very real.” The Wizard said. “It’s got to do with that potion I told you about before.”

The Farmer lifted his head to find that The Wizard’s lawn chair had risen up so the two were at roughly the same height. The Wizard was grinning ear to ear, which was a little off-putting since the man was normally scowling. 

“He’s a real damsel in distress, isn’t he?” The Wizard asked. “I can even put him in the appropriate outfit if you want me to.” He snapped his fingers, and Morris’ outfit changed. He wore a small golden crown with blue and pink jewels atop his head and his suit was replaced with a pink and white lace dress. Even his perfect black shoes had been replaced with a pair of hot pink heels. Unfortunately, the bowtie remained.

“See?" The Wizard gestured at Morris with a grin. "Just like that one video game character!”

“When you said you were going to help the Junimos, I didn’t think you were going to kill Morris.”

“Kill him? Pfft, Noooooo.” The Wizard waved his hand. “I have this situation under control. See, the way I figure it is that we can draft a potion to keep Morris away from the Community Center, but I don’t know how long it’d last. And what would we do after that? Keep spiking his drinks with it? He’d just build up a tolerance to the potion and we’d be back where we started. So, I thought it better to traumatize him.”

“You’re traumatizing him?” The Farmer echoed.

“Yes, and with the help of this potion,” The Wizard snapped his fingers and a square vial with black liquid appeared in the air, “we can make Morris forget this ever happened. But, his subconscious will remember it all. I waited outside with The Junimos for Morris to come by today. When his hand touched the doorknob, I summoned the monster and he was pulled away. This way, any time he tries to approach the Community Center, he’ll be overcome with the fear associated with this trauma remembered by his subconscious, thus leaving the Junimos alone forever! It’s foolproof.”

“Okay,” The Farmer looked back at the fight. “Then why are The Junimos fighting it?”

“Oh, I convinced them that this wasn’t supposed to happen, and that Morris’ life is actually in danger. A little payback for them breaking into my tower.”

The Farmer looked around, still not seeing anyone else. “But what about the rest of the villagers? Why hasn’t anyone come out to see?”

“I put them all to sleep.”

“How?”

The Wizard flicked one hand into the air and glitter exploded from his fingertips. Two words, formatted like early 2000 Clip Art, appeared. They read ‘Plot Convenience!’

“I figured you’d be knocked out too but was reminded last chapter that my magic has a weaker hold on you and another individual.” The Wizard flicked his hand down, and a blue and green screen resembling a computer monitor appeared; like they were suddenly in a virtual reality MMO. The Farmer thought he noticed Alex’s face on the screen briefly, but The Wizard scrolled down too quickly. “And thus, we had to wait. Our window of execution is only from one to four. According to the Wiki, the other one my magic doesn’t work on is lifting weights in his room. He shouldn’t notice that the rest of his household is frozen in time.”

The Farmer looked away from the monster. “Wait what?”

“Farmer!” The mud covering Morris’ mouth had unfortunately been washed away with the most recent geyser.  Joja’s employee of the month was free to solicit The Farmer a membership again. “Farmer, please help me! You slay monsters, right? I’ll give you anything if you help me!”

Blue and Yellow soared overhead, launched by another geyser. It looked like The Farmer was about to get soaked, but thankfully, The Wizard summoned a large umbrella for the two of them, protecting them from the sixty percent chance of raining river and spirits. The Farmer watched the two of them bounce off the umbrella before they dove back into the fray.

The Farmer addressed The Wizard, not taking his eyes off the fight. “So, you’re sure he’s not in physical danger?”

“Of course.”

“And he’s not going to die?”

“The ESRB wouldn’t have rated our game as E+10 if we had any actual character death.”

The Farmer had no idea what The Wizard had just said, but it seemed like everything would be fine.

Morris screamed again. “Please, my dear farmer, you have to help!”

The Farmer looked back down at the battle. A small smile tugged at his mouth. “You know Morris,” The Farmer called. “I would, honestly I really would. But I left my sword back at home.” He grabbed the popcorn bowl out of the air and sat cross-legged in the grass. “And you know the first thing they taught me in the scouts was to never approach a monster if you’re unarmed. And I can’t break that rule. They’d revoke my ascot.”

After ten minutes, it became very apparent that the Junimos somehow had access to cable tv or some type of streaming device; and that they spent way too much time watching anime. While most of them were just screaming to accent the ridiculously over-dramatic attacks, a few stuck out to the Farmer.

Yellow was overcome with middle-school-syndrome and had given all of its attacks really embarrassing names like ‘Lucifer’s Holy Inversed Hammer.’ Green had apparently taken the role of support and was serenading the others with a rendition of ‘I Want It That Way’ by the DownAvenue Guys. Green was somehow able to sing all five vocals simultaneously and The Farmer could almost see the boy band dancing behind the spirit. Blue had created some complicated backstory for itself where the mud monster was involved in its parent’s deaths and was trying to monologue. However, instead of actually helping the others fight, Blue just struck dramatic poses whenever it finished a sentence. Blue was so long-winded that it was usually just knocked away before it finished speaking.

After fifteen minutes, Morris passed out and The Farmer had finished his popcorn.

After twenty minutes, Morris had been dropped into the water and forgotten.

The Farmer watched the gremlin’s body float down the river, facedown; he only felt slightly concerned. The real travesty was that the dress looked like it had been ruined. It had actually improved Morris’ looks.  “You sure he’ll be okay?” The Farmer said to The Wizard.

The Wizard waved his hand in the air and Morris’ body flipped right-side up. “I’ll make sure he wakes up on the riverbank. He’ll think he just fell in and bumped his head.” 

“FOOL!” Orange cried out, drawing back The Farmer’s attention. Orange faced off against the mud monster with the other Junimos lying unconscious behind it. “You may have killed my friends, but you haven’t killed our bonds! Our hearts are connected. Not even death can sever that bond!”

The monster roared, mud spraying from its mouth and covering Orange’s face.

Orange screamed back at it. “This isn’t even my final form!”

The Farmer stood up. “Okay, well I think I’m going to go now before they start singing K-Pop.”

An elegant grandfather clock materialized in the air near The Wizard and began to chime. He regarded it with a frown. “Well, I suppose I should wrap this up. It is almost four o’clock. Farmer, before you go, take this.”

The Wizard summoned a bottle containing red liquid and tossed it at The Farmer, who barely managed to not drop it.

“What’s this?”

“An energy tonic,” The Wizard responded. “I imagine you must be tired from working your land and then coming here and fixing up the center. I know you’re going up to the mine for more materials. You’d upset a lot of people if you came back all cut up because you were too tired to protect yourself.”

“Oh, uh, wow.” The Farmer’s brain felt like it wasn’t connected to the rest of his body. He almost at a loss for words. “That’s actually pretty considerate of you. Thank you.”

The Wizard snorted then mumbled under his breath, “If you wanna call it consideration…” He waved The Farmer off. “Go, before I drop too much foreshadowing. I’ll take care of things here.”

“Okay… See you later then.”  The Farmer turned and walked away. He uncorked the bottle and quickly downed the contents. He’d expected the same mossy texture he’d encountered from drinking the first potion he’d received from The Wizard. Thankfully, this drink felt more liquid than solid against his throat. The aftertaste of cherry and mint filled his mouth.

The Farmer returned to the Community Center to retrieve his bag. It rested against the wall just inside the front entrance. His ‘forgotten’ sword was lying on the ground next to it. After securing the sword to his belt and slinging the backpack over his shoulder, The Farmer headed back out.

In the place where the monster had appeared, small stars rose up against the gloomy sky. The unmistakable sound of K-Pop, sung by Green, was heard in the distance, accompanied by the other Junimos sobbing happily.  The Farmer ignored them and continued up the pathway to the mountains.

When he reached the crest of the mountain path, the dark-grey clouds rumbled overhead, a foretelling of rain. There was something else that reached his ear though. Something that made him pause. A melody fluttered on the wind, accented occasionally by the rumble of thunder. The Farmer stopped in his tracks, looking around for the source.

The light of a lantern caught his eye, set under a pine tree near the shore of the mountain lake. Abby stood in the shade of the pine, a flute brought up to her lips. Her eyes were closed, and her fingers moved slowly across the keys as she played. The gentle melody swayed him, drawing The Farmer towards Abby.

He stopped only a few feet in front of her. Several animals were gathered in the bushes and trees nearby—squirrels, rabbits, frogs—but he didn’t pay them any mind and they didn’t pay him any. Abby didn’t notice his approach, continuing to play her song. She went on for a few minutes longer until the last note rung out, high and clear. For several seconds, mother nature herself had stopped to hear the ringing note. Only when the sound faded completely, and the rain begin to fall, did Abby open her eyes.

Upon noticing The Farmer, her eyes grew suddenly wider. “Oh, don’t stand out there in the rain. Come under the tree.”

Abby’s voice broke whatever trance had fallen over him. The Farmer blinked several times, feeling very much like he’d been drowning and only just managed to surface. He stepped under the tree next to here, and for a few moments, he struggled to find his voice. Eventually, he managed to say a single word. “Wow.”

He hadn’t spent much time with Abby before. He mostly saw her trio—being Sam and Sebastian—when they hung out in the Saloon on the weekends, playing pool and the old arcade games. He’d spent one afternoon playing Prairie King with her after buying some seeds, but in the end, he always felt they were more of friendly acquaintances than actual friends.

“Oh please, I’m not that great.” Abby rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding?” The Farmer said. “I’ve never be so, so mesmerized by a flute solo before.”

Abby’s eyebrow peaked up in amusement. “Why Farmer, I never took you as a flute solo enthusiast. How many recitals have you been able to attend with your busy farm work?”

The Farmer grinned, picking up on her playful attitude. “Oh, I haven’t been able to attend a single one. It’s a tragedy! But if you were to ever hold one in town here, I’d pay premium to get front row seats.”

A dusting of color touched Abby’s cheeks and she snorted. “Now you’re just making fun of me. What do you even know about music?”

“I did my time. Four years of it in high school orchestra. I’ll have you know I was first chair second violin.  I can say with confidence, listing to you play is almost like listening to magic.”

Abby beamed at the compliment but turned and fidgeted with the bag leaning against the tree instead of responding right away. As she did, The Farmer got a very sudden and brief feeling of regret sink into his stomach. He was probably coming on too strong, like he usually did. He should probably tell her he was gay before she got the wrong idea.

He then noticed something unusual lying next to the backpack. An object he’d not see with Abby before. “So. What’s with the sword?”

“Oh, you mean this bad boy?” Abby snatched the sword and swung it dramatically at The Farmer. The only problem was that the sheath wasn’t properly attached, and the hard leather was launched into the air. The unexpected projectile smashed into his face, causing him to stumble backwards and fall on his back. 

“OHMYGOSHIMSOSORRY!” Abby dropped her sword, rushing to The Farmer’s side and helping him sit up.

“I’m okay,” The Farmer spoke through his hand, which was currently clutched over his nose. His nose throbbed, and he saw stars dance around him, but at least it wasn’t broken. Probably.

“Agh, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have done that!” Abby grabbed fistfuls of her own hair and scowled down at the ground. “Maybe dad’s right. Maybe I’m not ready for this. Maybe I should just go home. This was a stupid idea anyways…”

“Whoa there. What are you talking about? What’s with the spiral of despair? It was just a little accident.”

Abby sighed heavily, dropping her hands to her sides. “I wanna be one of those adventurers you read about. Not just make-pretend like in Sebby and Sam’s games. I wanna be one of those people who are out exploring the world and taking on monsters. But…but I’ve never even left the valley before. I don’t know if I’d be cut out for exploring.”

“So why do you have the sword? Going for some sort of training camp in the mountains like an anime protagonist?”

That brought a smile to Abby’s face for at least a second. “I was going to see if I could go into the mines today. My parents don’t want me going anywhere near it. My dad especially. I’m not sure why. But,” she pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket. The Farmer recognized it as one of Mayor Lewis’ notices about culling monsters. “You’re always going into the mines and taking on Lewis’ requests. I thought that I could prove to my parents that I can take care of myself by doing one of the requests. But…”

The Farmer prompted her. “But?”

Abby sighed again. “But whenever I go anywhere near the entrance, I freeze up. I start thinking about what might be down there and my whole body feels like it’s on fire. Playing the flute before I go in helps me calm my nerves. Once I made it down the ladder, but I kept seeing things in the shadows, things that I knew weren’t there. You’re always told that the best way to get over your fears is to face them, but I haven’t been able to even take a single step beyond that ladder for the last year.”

The Farmer regarded her. Her mouth contorted into a frown that was halfway between fear and frustration. Her body shivered, but he knew it wasn’t from the rain. And her eyes was a look he recognized all too well. It was the same look he’d seen reflect in the mirrors of the Joja Corp restrooms during break time.

The Farmer stood up, brushing the dirt off of himself. “Well, how about I go with you?”

Abby looked up sharply. “What?”

“Well, everyone has to start somewhere. Even I had Marlon show me the ropes before I attempted anything by myself.”

Abby blinked at him. Then she rubbed her eyes and blinked at him again. “Are you serious?”

The Farmer shrugged. It was honestly a spur of the moment decision, but the look she was giving him made him feel self-conscious, like he’d done more than propose a stupid idea. “Yeah, why not? We can turn this into an actual apprenticeship. If you help me carry ore out of the mine, I’ll teach you the basics of monster combat. Deal?”

Abby stared a little longer, causing his embarrassment to grow with each passing second. Then, she suddenly jumped up and wrapped her arms around him. “Yes!” Abby exclaimed. “Oh my Yoba, yes! It’s a deal! And you promise it won’t just be today? We can do this again?”

The second Abby’s grip lessened, The Farmer pushed her arm’s-length away. Abby was very touchy apparently. “Yeah, why not? I usually plan to go into the mines whenever rain is in the forecast, so how about I text you whenever I plan to head out?”

“Alright!” Abby let go of The Farmer, then turned towards the lake in the direction of the mines to scream. “Watch out monsters, I’m coming to kick your ass!”

He laughed. “Actual monsters might be a little tough for a beginner. We’ll start off with just the giant insects and bats.”

Abby visibly flinched before slowly turning back to him. “Did you just say giant insects?”

The Farmer nodded solemnly. “Yeah, the first twenty floors or so are full of horseflies the size of your head. Not going to back out, are you?”

“N-No, of course not!” Abby’s hand moved instinctively towards the hilt of her sword. “Um, are there a, a lot of them?”

“Well, you know how in video games, if you ever have to go into a cave, it’s always filled with at least twenty giant spiders?”

“Yeah?”

“Well it’s kinda like that. Only twenty times worse because these spiders can fly and there’s twice as many of them.”

The look she gave him made The Farmer imagine Abby was screaming as loud as she could in her head. But, after that she inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and slapped her hands together in prayer. “Okay, I’m fine.” She jumped, shaking out her entire body and jabbing at the air twice. “I’m ready. Let’s go kick some horsefly ass.”

She marched off ahead of The Farmer. He followed, picking up the bag that Abby had forgotten about after mustering her courage. He felt somewhat bad, because in some corner of his mind, a voice told him that he was only doing it to distract himself. Maybe he was, so what? The more time he wasted playing at Master and Apprentice, the less time he had to mope about his silly little boy-crush.

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Day: 11^th

 Alex’s plan was perfect, if he could say so himself. He’d perfectly positioned himself on the west end of the town square, the perfect spot to see when The Farmer would come into town to buy supplies from Pierre’s. Dusty sat obediently at his feet, tail wagging as he eyed the perfect tennis ball in Alex’s hand.

Despite his talk with Haley last week about just talking to The Farmer and spending some more time with him, Alex found he still didn’t have the courage to just drop by the farm when he wanted to. So instead, he’d staked out Pierre’s—sane people totally stake out the general store—and then he ‘accidentally’ bumped into The Farmer when the other man left carrying his first batch of seeds for the fall season. He had ‘accidentally’ planted the tennis ball in The Farmer’s shopping bags, and then Dusty had ‘accidentally’ torn open the plastic bag to get the ball. And feeling guilty about what his dog did, Alex offered to carry The Farmer’s things for him. While they made small talk, Alex memorized which seeds The Farmer had bought later returned to Pierre’s to figure out which days The Farmer would be returning to buy more seeds.

Now whenever Alex saw The Farmer coming, he’d throw the ball out into the square. It would be in the other man’s direction, but it had to be a subtle throw so that it didn’t look like he was doing it on purpose. Alex had spent an entire afternoon trying to figure out what exactly made a thrown ball look subtle or obvious, and by Yoba did he know how to subtly throw a ball now. This way the ball would roll into The Famer’s path and Dusty, recognizing The Farmer as a friend, would try and get The Farmer to throw it next. Then Alex could run over nonchalantly and apologize for his dog’s over-friendliness. And, being the animal lover that Alex had discovered The Farmer to be, The Farmer would spend some time playing with Dusty, and by extension, spend time talking with Alex. Dog truly was man’s best friend.

And it totally wasn’t weird for The Farmer to run into Alex every time he came to buy seeds. Alex lived here, outside the general store, in the town square. Yep, totally normal.

Dusty barked, pulling Alex out of his mind’s inner working. Dusty had taken off, without the ball to prompt him, and was chasing after The Farmer. This wasn’t according to plan, it was barely even eight-thirty. Pierre’s wouldn’t be open for a while.

The Farmer wasn’t so much walking as he was storming through the square. He wasn’t quite running, but he was certainly in a hurry. Each footstep was heavy and vindictive. Alex could almost see black storm clouds swirling around The Farmer’s head and the lightning flash from his eyes. His hands were in tight fists at his sides, one of them clutching as a bundle of papers.

The Farmer didn’t even stop for Dusty. The old dog trotted over to him, barking happily as he followed at The Farmer’s side. But after The Farmer charged right past Pierre’s front door, Dusty stopped, tilting his head and watched The Farmer continue on. When Alex caught up with Dusty, the dog whined and looked at him, wondering what he had done wrong.

“It’s okay boy,” Alex said, rubbing Dusty’s face affectionately. “He must have something important to do.”

Alex had a small pang of pain in his chest, but it disappeared the second he saw The Farmer march through JojaMart’s front doors. The pain was instantly replaced with concern. He hadn’t exactly been to the town’s chapel recently, nor had he ever seriously studied Yoba’s holy book, but he was pretty certain that one sign of the apocalypse was The Farmer walking willingly into Joja Mart.

After quickly tying Dusty back up outside his house, Alex ran across the bridge and stepped through the front doors. The sliding automatic door greeted him with the sound of The Farmer chewing out Shane.

“I know Morris is here,” The Farmer yelled. “Tell that conniving, bottom-feeding gremlin to bring his sorry pale ass out here right now!”

Shane held his hands up in front of him. His sleep-deprived expression said that he really didn’t care for the situation. The Farmer had drawn a small crowd, Alex recognized a few of the villagers—Jodi and Robin were whispering to each other—but there were also a good number of out-of-towners.

“Hey, can’t you lower your voice a little?” Shane pleaded. “I know you’re upset but Morris just got in. He has a pretty strict rule that says we have to leave him alone, so he can do thirty minutes of morning yoga.”

The Farmer scowled, foot tapping irately against the floor. “Then tell him I wanna sign up for a membership. That otta get him out here.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Shane sighed, dropping his hands. He sighed, then under his breath, “It’s too early for this shit.”

As Shane walked towards the back, Alex tried to make himself inconspicuous and blend in with an endcap filled with cheap, boxed candy, making sure to stay out of The Farmer’s sight for now. 

Alex saw the bow tie before he saw Morris. The Farmer was right, it stuck out like a small pair of devil horns. Only they grew from his neck. The corners of Morris lips touched his ears and his impossibly pearl-white teeth were visibly. He threw his arms open while approaching The Farmer. “My good friend! I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to see all the benefits of being a rewards member can bring you.”

The second before Morris could actually embrace the other man, The Farmer sidestepped, and Morris fumbled and instead embraced a cash register.

“I’m sorry, Morris. But I’m actually here to talk about something else.” The Farmer presented the papers he was clutching to Morris. “Do you care to explain what this is?”

Releasing the register, Morris took a moment to dust himself off and adjust his bow tie, covering the time with an awkward, throat-clearing cough. Pushing his glasses back, Morris leaned in to examine the crumpled paper. “It appears to be a bill, my dear farmer.”

“A bill,” The Farmer repeated. “And what, may I ask, does Joja Corp have to bill me for?”

“I believe a breakdown was included when you were mailed the bill.”

“Well, Morris,” The Farmer threw his voice off a bit and added an exaggerated accent, “I’m just a dumb ol’ country hick farmer, so why don’t ya explain it for me? These big city words just go right over my head.”

Morris coughed once again, eyeing the crowd that had gathered around him. Alex felt the sudden need to be hidden when Morris’ eyes fell on him, but there was no recognition in the gremlin’s eyes. “Why don’t we continue this back in my office?” Morris proposed in a voice with a thinning patience. “I’d be more than happy to explain in full detail over cups of coffee.”

The Farmer crossed his arms across his chest, shifted his weight to one side, and began tapping his other foot. “Here is just fine.”

Morris paused, staring down The Farmer as he collected himself. Then he smiled at the crowd and threw open his hands. “As I’m sure you all are aware, we at JojaMart strive to bring our customers the lowest prices possible.”

“Yeah, by demanding unreasonable prices from your suppliers, like me,” The Farmer interjected. “I buy bok choy seeds for sixty-two gold, and you buy an entire bundle at seventy gold, meaning you value my labor at eight gold.”

There were some whispers shared among the crowd. Morris gave another awkward, throat-clearing cough before continuing. “In order to keep our prices low, we only buy when the product is offered at lower prices. You, my dear farmer, have a special case. You are enlisting our service to ship crops to our warehouses in the city.”

“Because you won’t buy and sell them at this location.”

“Our facilities here were built before your business was set up, and thus we are not equipped to provide that service. Now, as I was saying, your bill is the cost to ship your crops into the city. Due to rising gas prices and maintenance on our vehicles, it currently costs more to ship your crop into the city than what we’re buying them at.”

“This bill dates back to the beginning of summer, Morris. Are you trying to say I’ve been paying you to take my crops this entire time?”

“I believe the term you’re looking for is negative profit.”

The Farmer rushed Morris, papers flying into the air and took a fistful of Morris' sleek black suit. “Then why the hell didn’t you just walk up to my door and collect the money? You wait two whole damn months and now you’re trying to charge me nearly fifteen thousand gold for giving you my crops!”

Morris kept a calm face. “Lewis continued to leave your crops for us and he should have been told. We assumed you knew. Joja is a very large company, my dear farmer, so please understand that it takes time to deliver a personalized experience to each person and you are treated with the same professionalism that our other suppliers are. For that reason, we have set up all billing to take place on monthly cycles, for your convenience.”

The corner of Morris’ mouth twitched. For a moment, Alex saw the mask of the perfect sales associate break and reveal the face of the money-grubbing gremlin that The Farmer always called him out to be. “However,” Morris continued, “that particular department is currently short-staffed, due to unforeseen staffing issues. We ask for your understanding in this issue. I’m sure we can get those late fees waved for you.”

“You’re out of your mind,” The Farmer snarled, “if you believe I’d pay any of this ‘negative profit’ that you think I owe.”

“Oh, but don’t think of it as a negative profit, my dear farmer!” Morris chimed. “Your crops are out there, labeled with your farm's name! If they like it, they will continue to buy it. So, think of it as an investment. An investment in exposure!”

As The Farmer shouted, Alex’s whole body trembled. Watching the scene play out, a vague feeling of recognition had washed over him. He knew this was bad. The shouting, the issues about money, this was very bad. He had to do something, but what? Could he even do anything?

The Farmer’s right arm snapped back, white-knuckled fist ready to make a permanent, painful mark on Morris’ face. 

Alex shot forward, pushing the crowd away, and caught The Farmer’s wrist in his hand.

The moment The Farmer had moved to punch Morris, time had stopped for Alex. Several outcomes played out around him simultaneously, like he was watching ten movies at once, and he didn’t like how any of them ended. Even if the worst-case scenario came to fruition and a fistfight broke out in JojaMart, he knew he was going to jump in on The Farmer’s side. Heck, he was pretty confident in their abilities to take on Mayor Lewis, the only law enforcement figure in town. But, something deep inside him knew that if the punch connected, something would change. He needed to stop that.

Back in the present, The Farmer released the grip he had on Morris and spun. He threw a second fist, only knowing that whoever stopped him was also an enemy. Alex caught the second fist easily, and then locked eyes with The Farmer.

They were burning.

Anger, hatred, rage, anxiety and fear; they all burned with the intensity of a forest fire. Seeing these emotions in the eyes that Alex had only ever seen kindness and hope, it was like the store around him had suddenly ignited in flame. It felt that Joja was burning to the ground, and they were trapped inside, choking silently on the smoke and unable to look away from each other.

The intense emotions vanished from The Farmer’s eyes the second realization washed over him. Staring at Alex, his mouth dropped open and the strength went out of his body. Shame overtook his expression and flushed his cheeks. His eyes watered.

“A-Alex.” The Farmer stumbled over the name, the strength leaving his arms and dropping to his sides.  “I…What are you-?”

Pulling himself off the floor, Morris straightened his jacket. His smile had dropped from his face. He almost looked disappointed. “Is there a problem here, gentlemen?”

“No,” Alex said firmly. He shifted his grip and grabbed The Farmer’s hand. Without another glance at Morris, he pulled the man towards the front door. “We’re leaving.”

Alex didn’t look back as the automatic doors closed behind them. The Farmer put up no resistance as Alex pulled him along. His head hung low and a cloud of despair surrounded him. “I- “

“You don’t need to say anything,” Alex cut him off. His previous doubts about his feelings for the other man were thrown to the wind. “I think I know exactly what you need right now.”

Blue perched itself atop a rotting chair in the center of the arts n’ crafts room. Behind it, the wall glowed slightly, still infused with Red’s magic. The other Junimos gathered around Blue, sitting atop makeshift seating. Some held cans of soda or bowls of popcorn, probably stolen from the villagers. “Now I think we’re all in agreement,” Blue addressed the other Junimos, “when we say that the best reaction belongs to The Chicken Man.”

“Play it again!” Orange shouted. The other creatures also shouted in agreement.

“Green?” Blue prompted.

Green jumped onto the chair next to Blue. It summoned a small ball of green light to its hands, then threw it at the wall. The wall shimmered and went out of focus until an image of The Ranchers home appeared. The view was from the forest floor behind the house, Green’s point of view.

The sky overhead was pitch black, not a single star or even the moon to light the night. Green ran towards the home, making its way to the windowsill with the light still on. Peering inside, The Mayor and The Rancher were visible.

The Mayor was on his hands and knees, tears in his eyes. “Oh Marnie! Sweet, merciful goddess Marnie. Take pity on me,” he proclaimed. He dropped his forehead against the floorboards at The Ranchers feet.

The Rancher sighed heavily. Both of her hands massaged her temples thoroughly. “Lewis, I let you in because I thought we were going to talk. But for the last ten minutes you’ve done nothing but cry at my feet. Will you please stand up?”

“I’m not worthy to stand in your presence!” The Mayor wailed.

The Rancher huffed in annoyance and reached down to take The Mayor by his collar and hoisted him into the air. His sobbing abruptly cut off as The Rancher pulled him nose to nose with herself. “Alright Lewis. Since you’re not going to do any talking, you’ll listen. And you’ll listen good. We are grown adults, not a couple of teenagers keeping secrets from their parents. I’m sick and tired of fooling around in the bushes around town. I want to be public about our relationship. Are you able to do that?”

The Mayor’s mouth open and shut stupidly several times before he could summon up a response. “Y-You know I want to Marnie. But the other business owners, what would they—Ack!”

The Mayor was cut off as The Rancher dropped him to the floor. “That’s what I thought.”  She walked across the room, pulling a coat from her closet.

The Mayor scrambled after her on his hands and knees. “W-Where are you going?”

“For a walk.” The Rancher said. “It’s a beautiful night, so I think a walk through the mountains will do me good. Who knows, I might even pay The Adventurer’s guild a visit and see how those two gentlemen up there are doing. I trust you can show yourself out.”

The Mayor grabbed at her coattails. “But Marnie!”

The Rancher cast a cold gaze on him. “I’ve castrated enough livestock to know a fixed bull when I see one. I guess it's just time to send this one out to market.” She turned away and walked out of the room, leaving The Mayor frozen on her bedroom floor.

Back in the Community Center, the Junimos roared with laughter. The screen’s image moved around as Green attempted to reach the next windowsill. Before the image could play out further, Red and White entered the room.

“Hey!” Red cried out. “What do you all think you’re doing?”

“Red!” Blue’s voice cracked. Orange and Green both launched themselves at the wall, slapping it frantically while attempting to hide their deeds. “What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“Enough!” White yelled. “You all know better than this. Using this wall is a drain on Red’s powers. It should only be employed when absolutely necessary.”

“But we were using it for, er, important reasons.” Blue said.

Orange and Green had somehow managed to change the wall back to its previous state of being a collection of portraits for the villagers. “Yeah, yeah,” Orange offered. “We were checking up on The Athlete and The Farmer.”

“Yeah!” Green pointed up at the screen. “We know they’re together right now. We just wanted to make sure nothing bad is happening!”

Green jumped up, touching the portrait of The Athlete. However, at the exact same moment, a small piece of the ceiling broke free. The rubble, located directly over Red, clocked the Junimo in the middle of its head.

Meanwhile, the image on the wall shimmered, coming into focus much slower than usual. What appeared was grainy, like they were watching satellite tv during a storm. Images and sounds flickered in an out. What did come through consistently, was heavy, labored breathing. It was accompanied by a rhythmic beating.

Through the grain, they got an image from the corner of an unknown room. In it were discarded articles of clothing: a green and yellow letterman jacket, a green-blue plaid shirt stained with dirt, and an old azure bandana.

The image flickered again, and The Athlete’s sweat-soaked face appeared. He was pressed against something, hard, eyes screwed shut. The image flickered yet again, returning to the pile of clothing. This time, The Famer’s labored voice came through.

“-a little longer…”

“Oh, my head is pounding,” Red moaned.

White snatched up a nearby piece of wood and immediately punted Red outside the window. The sounds and images on the wall cut out, and the arts and crafts room was kid-friendly once again. “You all have work to do!” White shouted. “None of this! None of this foolishness!”

“But what was that?” Orange asked. “It looked like what The Mayor and- “

White crossed the room in an instant, also punting Orange out the window. “Anyone else have any questions!?”

The Junimos scattered. 

 “TAKE THAT YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT!”

Alex was thrown onto his back, landing on the padded floor of the Spa’s workout room. The walls were covered in mirrors on three sides and various weight-lifting machines filled the room. The punching bag swung back and forth violently until The Farmer caught it. “Sorry,” The Farmer panted, looking down at Alex as he wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of the boxing gloves. “I didn’t think I had that much strength in me.”

“Oh no,” Alex panted. He spread out his arms and legs, big grin on his face as he caught his breath. “I knew you were strong. I just wasn’t prepared for all that pent-up anger you had.”

The Farmer sat down cross-legged next to Alex. “Yoba, I never knew beating up a bag of sand could ever feel so good.”

“Hey, a good workout can do that for you.”

The Farmer laughed. “I can already tell everything is gonna be sore tomorrow, but man I see why you enjoy doing this so much. Thanks for bringing me up here and loaning me some of your gym clothes.”

Alex lifted his arm to give him a thumbs up gesture. “Anytime bro.”

“You know, I’m kinda surprised you had these,” The Farmer lifted his hands, a gesture to the boxing gloves. “Never took you as the boxing type of guy.”

“Oh, they’re not mine. They’ve been here since I started working out here in high school.”

A very horrified but disgusted look overcame The Farmer’s face. At the same time, he slowly moved the gloves towards Alex. “Please help me get them off. Now.”

Alex sat up, a smile on his face. He tried to think of a witty response as he undid the gloves’ lacing and Velcro but couldn’t. At the same time, he didn’t feel as if he needed to say anything. His stomach fluttered happily while looking at The Farmer. It wasn’t exactly what he had in mind when he had concocted his master plan, but they were spending time together. And he was enjoying it. That’s what was important.

Plus, a little selfishly, Alex felt happy that he’d helped The Farmer work through something. Well, at least partially. The Farmer was much calmer now than he was an hour ago. He’d still willingly jump into a brawl at The Farmer’s side when needed, but it was probably better for everyone they hadn't actually thrown down with Morris in the middle of Joja Mart.

The Farmer pushed back his bangs and pulled up the collar of his borrowed tank top to wipe the sweat from it. The scar immediately caught Alex’s eye, just like that night at the beach. Under the glow of the florescent bulbs, it was obviously a deep one. It was almost in the shape of an oval crescent, running just above his left eyebrow and about an inch into his hairline.

The Farmer must have noticed him staring at it, because he brought his right hand up to play with his hair, pushing his bangs back down over the scar. “What?”

Alex set the gloves between them, giving him a moment to think about how to address the elephant in the room. “Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about what happened with Morris?” He let his voice trail off at the end, keeping his eyes mostly on the gloves as he asked.  An attempt to come off as nonchalant. When The Farmer’s expression mellowed, Alex quickly added, “But it’s totally cool if you don’t want to! But, um, I just want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk. Or anything like that.”

The Farmer sighed. “No, I shouldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. And you’re the last person I wanted to see me like that.”

“Why?”

The Farmer looked down at his hands. “I was dumb and acting rashly. I was just, just so frustrated that I couldn’t think straight. I genuinely thought that if I could clobber Morris, everything would be better.” The Farmer clenched his hand together into a fist. “But those emotions are stupid and ugly.”

“Well…as my grandpa says, ugly emotions are in everyone.” He gave a half-smile. “That’s what makes us human.”

The Farmer returned the smile after a moment, but it fell off his face right away. “I was actually more frustrated at myself. I realized I was naïve in thinking that a multi-billion gold corporation wasn’t gonna try and fuck me over.”

“You said you owe them money for them taking your crops, right?” Alex regretted his words when he saw the despair of his words cause The Farmer’s shoulders slump. “That hardly seems right. Can’t you fight them in court or something?”

“That involves money and time that I don’t have. Plus, if I lose I’m sure they’d slap on a ton of late fees and I’d just end up having to pay them triple.” The Farmer frowned. “I’ve seen first-hand the kind of defense team Joja Corp has at their disposal. Any time someone tries to voice a complaint, they pull the fine print through some loophole in the contract that can shut down any rebuttal. I’m a single, first-time, small-time business owner. I’d get destroyed.”

“You really can’t do anything?”

“Nope. Just gotta bend over and pay them the money while Joja has their fun.”

Alex bit the inside of his cheek before he spoke next. “Hey, if you need some mon- “

The Farmer silenced Alex by chucking one of the gloves into his face. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Alex.” The embers in his eyes threatened to burn with similar intensity to before. “It’s true my budget is gonna be tighter for a while. But this was my own oversight. It was my fault for not reading that contract they sent me. I’m not going to burden other people over it.”

“But- “

“No buts.” The Farmer said sternly.

After a moment, Alex nodded. The Farmer seemed satisfied and stood up. Alex knew this was probably better. Sure, he had some money saved up, but how much could he really help? Logically, he knew he didn’t have an obligation to help out, but still…

"I’ll take care of you. Always."

Alex looked up at The Farmer, who stared back down at him. “What?” Alex asked.

“I asked if you were coming with.”

“Where?”

The Farmer pulled his tank top off, breathing a sigh of relief after removing it. “I can’t sit around wearing sweat-soaked clothing anymore. I am in desperate need of a shower. I asked if you were coming with.”

The second the tank top came off, Alex realized the lightness in his stomach was because it had become the nesting ground for thousands of butterflies. He mentally kicked himself for not taking previous notice of how The Farmer looked in his gym clothes. The shirt had been slightly too small for The Farmer, and the shorts were an old pair, also just slightly too small and form-fitting.

Alex jumped up, turning his back to The Farmer. “A-Actually, I’m going to lift some weights! I never really got the chance to work up a sweat myself, you know?”

“Oh, do you want me to come back and spot you?”

“I’m fine,” Alex gave an award thumbs up over his shoulder. “I’ll see you later!”

The Farmer lingered for a moment. “Well, okay. See you later Alex.”

Alex listened to him go without moving. When the footsteps faded, Alex released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay, calm down,” he muttered to himself. “This is stupid. You’ve been in the bath with him before for Yoba’s sake. He’s seen you naked before! Oh Yoba, he's seen me naked," he trailed off, his face starting to heat up.

The sound of running water reached Alex’s ears, and he was overcome with several realizations in that moment: One, a major design flaw in the spa was that none of the rooms beyond the men’s locker room had any doors on them until you reached the hot springs below. Two, the showers were only one room down. Three, they were the only people here. And four, he’d never seen The Farmer naked.

Alex had realized he'd left the weight room until he was staring at the entrance to the showers. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest, urging him forward. He could just say he changed his mind, forgotten today was a rest day, and slip under the showerhead next to him. He knew that the showers were communal, without any sort of privacy between them. They'd be alone, standing in the showers, next to each other with only the water on their bodies. 

A sudden tightness in his shorts made Alex look down, and the realization of what he was thinking about doing filled him with panic. He marched back into the workout room, dropping onto one of the weight machines. He put his forehead in his hands, eyes very wide and very serious as he tried to clam himself

“Holy hell,” Alex swore softly. Sure, he may have told Haley before that he’d always thought both men and women could be attractive, but this was this first time his body ever reacted so physically to thinking about another man’s body. The things that he was about to imagine them doing...

He stood, pacing the room, having nowhere else he could really go. He needed something, any sort of distraction. He wished he had his phone to play some music, just anything to drown out the sounds coming from down the hall, but his phone was back in the changing room. He’d need to walk by the showers to reach it, and he didn't trust himself to not steal a glance inside. He was more terrified of what he might want to attempt.

"What will you do if he doesn't reciprocate your feelings?" Haley's voice played in Alex's head. 

With nothing left to do, Alex walked into the mirrored wall and gently placed his forehead against the glass. His reflection stared back at him.

“Fuck.”

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 16th

The Farmer glared up the wooden strongman, the current bane of his existence. It taunted him, flexing massive biceps while flashing a cartoonish grin. Below the strongman was an electronic sign, reading the current high score of 686. 686 wasn’t that high. He could totally beat that. He spun the oversized mallet in his hands, trying to psych himself up.

“I don’t know why you’re trying,” Alex taunted. “I set the record every year. And no one’s ever come close to beating it.” He and Haley leaned against a nearby fence. Alex had shed his jacket and tied it around his waist, obviously trying to distract The Farmer with how dashing it made him look. Haley had her camera on its strap, hanging around her neck and ready to snap a picture at any moment.

“Don’t listen to him,” Haley said. “He’s just got an over-inflated ego.”

“Then I guess I gotta pop that ego, huh?” The Farmer flashed a sly grin.

“We’ll see about that.” Alex gave a grin equally sly, just oozing with confidence. The Farmer had half a mind to smash the mallet into Alex’s face instead. It was infuriating that confidence made Alex look so fucking attractive.

“Hey!”

The Farmer froze, praying to Yoba that no one hear the soft voice come from the hood of his sweatshirt. He felt Red shuffle around in there, getting as close to his ear as it could without revealing itself. The spirit had woken him up at the crack of dawn this morning, asking if it could tag along for the Stardew Valley Fair. Luckily, he had a hoodie buried deep in his closet from his closeted days.  It was two sizes too big, just so he had a place to hide in during his bad days. Red immediately took up residence in the hood and proceeded to question every action The Farmer took that morning during his usual chores.

“I can help you.” Red whispered.

The Farmer muttered under his breath, moving his lips as little as possible. “How?”

“You just swing. Leave the rest to me. I’ll make sure you break this machine!”

“That’s not the point of the game! Just help me beat Alex’s score, but don’t make it too high. And you better not try anything stupid, or I’ll-”

“You gonna swing or what?” The man running the attraction said.

The Farmer jumped nearly a mile high. “Y-Yeah! Just pumping myself up mentally, you know?”

The man shrugged. “Whatever. Just don’t keep the other customers waiting.”

The Farmer looked behind himself, seeing there was nobody standing in line. He half wondered if this guy had any relation to The Wizard. “Okay…”

“Just swing it already. Or don’t, I won’t judge.” Alex jested. “It’s not like you could ever break my record.”

The Farmer ignored him, twirling the mallet one more time in his hands. He took a deep, steady breath, then hoisted it above his head. With all his strength, he drove it down, into the target. The lights on the machine flashed on and off rapidly, and the red lines on the electronic monitor flickered randomly as it calculated his score.

When the first number clocked in at a six, The Farmer couldn’t believe his eyes. When the second number came in as an eight, the smile fell off of Alex’s face. And finally, when the last number slowly counted up and stopped on seven, Haley snapped a picture.

The lights on the machine went wild again, and the score of 687 flashed repeatedly. “Congratulations,” the attendant said in a monotone voice. “You’ve set a new high score. Enjoy your Star Tokens.”

The Farmer smiled over at Alex as he returned the mallet to the attendant and pocketed his tokens. “What do you think of that, Mr. High Score?”

“Hold up. I want another go.” Alex walked over to the attendant, shoving the money at him and taking the wooden mallet. Without any hesitation, Alex struck the target. The lights lit up again, and three new numbers filled the ‘High Score’ box on the machine.

“Huh. Six eighty-eight.” The Farmer read, actually impressed. He was pretty sure he straight up cheated, but Alex managed to pull off a new score like nothing.

Alex hoisted the mallet high overhead with both hands, like he was offering it as a gift to Yoba. “Ha! I told you, Alex always set the high score. I bet you can’t beat that.”

“Alex honey,” Haley called, “You’re referring to yourself in the third person. Again.”

The Farmer cocked an eyebrow before he pulled the money for another round out of his pocket. The attendant – now reading a book titled What to do When You’re an Inconsequential Background Character – took the money. The Farmer said, “Arrogance is unbecoming of you Alex. I think getting your butt kicked will be good for your ego.”

“Oh yeah? Well you’re just being a sore loser, and I’d say that’s unbecoming of you.”

That grin Alex gave him as he handed The Farmer the mallet sent a jolt of joy down his spine. Yoba, did he want to kiss that other man right now. He half-smiled as he turned to the target. Maybe he should. It’d certainly throw Alex off his game.

The Farmer twirled the mallet in his hands. He could feel Red pressed up against his back. He swung hard. Then, when his score clocked in at 689, he handed the mallet back to Alex. He tried his best to kept a straight face, but it was insanely hard to. Alex was squinting up at the numbers and his mouth was hanging open like he didn’t believe what he was reading.

“But Alex,” The Farmer said as innocently as he could, “I haven’t lost.”

Alex’s gaze immediately snapped toward The Farmer. That small twitch of playful annoyance in his expression filled The Farmer with a sense of smug accomplishment. It wasn’t often he could best Alex at something physical. Sure, he was cheating, but cocky Alex was usually just a ball of confidence and smooth one-liners. It was nice to know he could get worked up about stuff too.

Alex snatched the hammer from The Farmer and tossed money to the attendant, who caught it mid-air without looking up. “So, you want a contest of strength, huh?”

“I’m confident in my abilities.” The Farmer said. He heard a snicker from Red at that remark.

Alex swung the mallet, this time with a cry of confidence. The electronic sign clocked in at 699. Alex shot The Farmer a smile—a silent dare to try and beat his score again. The Farmer handed his money off and took the mallet. He noted the slightest hint of fear flicker across Alex’s face.

This time The Farmer decided to make a little show of his attempt. He placed the mallet at his feet and did a little stretching; making sure to exaggerate his movements. Just for the heck of it, he struck a yoga pose.

“Just swing already!” Alex yelled.

The Farmer smiled, then clasped his hands together. “Oh, merciful Yoba,” he said aloud. “I dedicate my victory to you.” He picked up the mallet, waited a moment, then swung.

“Smile!” Haley called.

The Farmer spun and gave Haley a ‘V-for-victory’ hand sign as she snapped the picture. This time, Alex said nothing as he threw more money at the attendant.

Alex took the hammer, swung, and generated a score of 712. The Farmer then went again and scored 713. This charade repeated for a while. Alex would best the high score, followed immediately by The Farmer beating that score by a single digit. By the time they had reached 750, a small crowd had gathered to watch. By 800, Alex dropped his jacket on the ground, then stripped off his sweaty undershirt and added it to the pile. Meanwhile, The Farmer, thanks to Red’s magic, hadn’t even broken a sweat. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to enjoying the front and center show of Alex’s muscled back whenever the man swung the mallet.

When the score reached 900, Penny had wandered over and spoke with Haley. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, the usual,” Haley said while taking another picture. “Just a couple of men being idiots.”

When The Farmer scored 989, he was genuinely impressed with Alex. He was cheating, but Alex was managing to still break his scores with every swing. Meaning Alex was technically breaking his own scores. So that justified the cheating, right? He was pushing Alex to be a better person by making him think he had someone to beat.

He handed the mallet over. “Getting tired yet?”

Alex wiped the sweat from his forehead, only a little short-breathed when he answered. “Not a chance.”

Alex swung again. The scoreboard flickered until it displayed 999. The gathered crowd burst into applause, adding to the excitement from the bells and whistles on the strongman machine. Alex cried triumphantly, hoisting the mallet into the air with one arm. That only lasted for a brief second, as in the next his arms dropped to his sides and he fell onto his back.

“My arms are literally burning,” he whined, then glanced over at the other man. “How the hell are you not sweating?”

As the crowd started to disperse, The Farmer walked over and squatted down next to Alex with a smile on his face. “I spend every day and all day working in the sun. This is nothing.”

Alex laughed once. “Nothing? Then I suppose you’re gonna swing again?”

“Mmm, actually I think I’ll concede this victory to you.” The Farmer surprised himself and took the liberty of brushing Alex’s bangs out of the way. His heart fluttered at touching Alex's skin, even if it was damp with sweat. If he wasn't trying to hard to keep up the confident act, he’d probably have noticed the red blush that touched Alex’s cheeks. “You wanna do some other stuff instead?”

“Sure.” Alex, coughed, looking away. He attempted to sit up but fell back down after rising only a few inches. “How about once I regain feeling in my upper body first?”

After Alex was able to utilize his arms again, the first stop for the trio was the concession stands. While the main square in Pelican Town had been filled with picnic tables and various game booths circled the square, the true attraction of any fair was the food. There must have been at least a hundred different tents filling the town. Amazingly, each one was serving something unique. There was the usual fair food: hot dogs, fries, funnel cakes—but a few caught The Farmer’s attention.

“How in the world does spaghetti-on-a-stick work?” he asked.

“Maybe they wrap it up like cotton candy?” Alex suggested. “What do you think attack sushi is?”

“Maybe it’s just fancy wording for spicy fish?” Haley said.

They paused for a moment to watch a man walking up to the attack sushi booth. After he paid, the woman behind the counter pulled a live fish out of the water tank behind her and slapped the man with it. She then replaced the fish and thanked the man for his purchase.

The trio kept walking.

After a while, they made the plan to split up, get a little bit of everything, and then pick at each other’s food back at the main square. As The Farmer did his bit of wandering, he noticed a few villagers were running stalls of their own. Gunther had a ‘Tastes from Around the World’ stall that honestly looked like a bunch of deep-fried bugs. Marlon’s was called ‘Monster Delectable’ which was just different vegetables trapped in slime-goo. Even Gus had an impressive number of barbeques set up near the fountain. Watching him flip the burgers and corn on the cob so expertly made The Farmer feel like he was watching a dance.

After he managed to pick up a little of everything—some of Gus’s grilled corn, BBQ & Cheese Pork Fries, Meat Sampler Kababs, and Chocolate Funnel Cakes—The Farmer made his way back to the main square. He found Alex and Haley immediately. The duo was surrounded by food, at least three times as much as The Farmer had brought. Haley seemed to have stopped at every deep-fried food stand there was. She had deep-fried pickles, chicken, pig’s ears, twinkies, ice-cream, and even an abomination that he recognized from the deep-fried lemonade stand. Alex was no better, his pile consisted of at least ten burgers with various toppings and sauces, an entire tray with at least thirty hot-dogs, and every variation of the potato known to man. Between the both of them sat an oversized and overflowing tub of chocolate chips cookies. The tub read “Sweet Martha’s Cookie Jar” and had a chocolate chip cookie wearing a red bow on the front.

The Farmer sat down across from them, fascination on his face as he watched Alex inhale three hot dogs in a single breath. “How in the world are either of you still alive at this point?”

Haley belched.

“This is a fair,” Alex said. “Have you seen the food here? This is literally the ultimate cheat day. “C’mon, give in to the deep-fried deliciousness.” He held out a deep-fried pickle on a stick to The Farmer.

While they ate and talked, The Farmer was pretty sure that the occasional, small blur of color he’d sometimes spot in the corner of his eye were the rest of the Junimos. Like the family dog, they were ready to snatch up anything you took your eye off—he had noticed portions of food from his table suddenly missing. The Farmer did his best to ignore the magical food snatchers. It was probably thanks to them that people here didn’t die from the deep-fried deliciousness, as Alex put it.

After they’d finished eating and talked for a bit, the group continued to make their rounds through the other gaming booths. The Farmer won the fishing contests—afterwards, he realized that both Haley and Alex had the same exact pout. Alex lost most of his stars to the Wheel of Fortune—impressively guessing wrong 90 percent of the time. Then came sharp-shooting with the slingshot. Alex was a good shot, but The Farmer had plenty of practice with Abby in pelting monsters with cherry bombs in the mines.

“Oh, would you look at,” The Farmer said after the buzzer rang. He flashed a smile at the other man as he walked back towards him. “We tied Alex.”

Alex cocked an eyebrow, half-grin on his face. “You know, that might have actually amazed me. I mean, if I hadn’t had my handicap that is.”

“Handicap? Are you telling me you’re holding back?”

“Not of my own volition. My arms are still killing me from kicking your butt in the strong man contest. Plus, I carried half your stuff in for the Grange Display. I think I deserve a little empathy.”

“Aw, does the big strong man need to take a break?”

“This big strong man thinks he can take down your high score in no time flat.”

“Oh really? Then tell you what, whoever concedes defeat has to buy the winner whatever they want from the food stalls for the rest of the night.”

“You’re on, farm boy.”

Unseen by either man, Haley rolled her eyes. She was starting to feel slightly annoyed at being the third wheel. But, the silver lining to the mushy conversation between Alex and The Farmer was that Alex probably had a chance. During their conversation nearly two weeks ago, Alex had been so unsure and wrought with anxiety. But seeing them now, well, it was kinda obvious how they felt about each other. At least to her.

 While the two men had their little ego-match, she stepped up and paid the attendant. She raised her slingshot, and the starting buzzer rang. Target after target shattered; there was a simple rhythm to it that she quickly fell into. Once her time was up, she knew she didn’t even need to look at her score. She flipped her hair as she turned around, finding both The Farmer and Alex slack-jawed while watching her collect her star tokens.

The two words out of The Farmer’s mouth were spoken so softly, it could have been mistaken for words of prayer. “Holy shit.”

“How,” Alex stumbled over his words, “When did, how are you—I, I don’t.”

Haley reveled in their reactions. As smugly as she could, she walked between the two of them and sat down on the nearest bench. She crossed one leg over the other, and daintily cupped her cheek in one hand. “Oh boys, if you ever want to have a shot in photography, you’ve got to have a good eye and fast reflexes. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a decent picture when the wildlife tries to flee the second they see you? Now, I believe there was some talk of a reward for the winner?” Haley’s smile grew wider. “Unless you think you can beat me?”

Alex and The Farmer exchanged a look.

“You win,” they said in unison.

“Good. Now I could really go for some deep-fried cookies. Farmer, would you be a doll?”

The Farmer gave a single, dry laugh before he turned and left. “Guess I’m eating my own words, aren’t I?”

There was a deep sigh from Haley as she watched Alex watch The Farmer disappear into the crowd. “Alex, stop acting like a love-sick puppy and come sit next to me.”

“Hey!” Alex quickly snapped his head around, making sure they weren’t overheard. “What if someone heard you?”

Haley waved him off. “Alex, my dear, sweet, innocent friend. I’m going to spell this out for you in a way that even you will understand. So please,” she patted the spot on the bench next to her, “Have a seat.”

Alex regarded the bench with an expression of concern. Haley knew her innocent smile frightened him. She liked that she seemed harmless, but with the right about of tightness, even the gentleness of smiles could strike fear into the hears of her friends and enemies.

“Sit.”

The autumn air was chilly, but the way Haley’s voice froze the air around them in an instant. Alex sat down immediately.

“Good,” Haley placed an arm around his shoulder. Alex now knew what it would be like for a fly to be caught in a spider’s web. “Now, I know we haven’t talked much about The Farmer since our discussion, but the distinction I got from that little chat was that you had absolutely no idea what his feelings toward you were.”

Alex slowly nodded. “I don’t, I wasn’t sure.”

Suddenly, Haley had both hands gripped in tuffs of his hair. Alex found himself staring down with a Haley with strained eyes and a very tight smile. “You. Dense. Bag. Of. Bricks.”

Alex’s voice squeaked. “What?”

Haley’s apparent rage grew with every word. And with every word she got closer, and the fear in Alex's eyes said that he thought she was going to bite into his neck and rip his throat out. “HE. FUCKING. LIKES. YOU.”

Haley released him with a groan of frustration before continuing. “If I have to listen to the two of you flirt any more, I’m putting on a black dress and I’m gonna lay myself down on the train tracks.”

“We, we’re not flirting!”

“Oh!” Haley gave him a look of exaggerated surprise. “You’re not? Could have fooled me with the ‘Big strong man’ line.”

Alex’s mouth opened and closed, failing to produce any sort of a defense before Haley continued.

“And that nickname, ‘Farm Boy,’ you drop it every chance you get, and he blushes like crazy when you say it. And don’t get me started on the constant touching, you two are always reaching out for each other to casual touch one another.”

Alex’s face lit up at that point. “We’re not-!”

“You are.” Haley said firmly. “You two bumped arms so much when we were walking around I’m surprised you weren’t holding hands yet. You’re practically rubbing against him like a dog in heat every second you got the chance. And how did you not get anything from him caressing you face after the strong man contest?”

“He didn’t caress it!”

Haley rolled her eyes. “Sure he didn’t.” Alex opened his mouth to object, but Haley put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Look, I’m trying to not get involved in your guy’s friendship, relationship, whatever. But I’m just going to say that tonight would be a great night to broach the subject. You’ve both been having fun and I’m basically a third wheel on your date. So just give me the word, and I’ll give you two some alone time. Alright?”

“Let’s stop there!” Red said excitedly, pointing out a milk bar they were passing. “They’ve got chocolate milk!”

The Farmer pushed the Junimo back into his hood, careful to not drop the pail of deep-fried diabetes he cradled in his arms. He half-hoped nobody saw the tiny spirit, but at the same time, Red had jumped out of hiding so many times The Farmer was certain someone had already spotted it. Red wanted to stop at every food stall and wanted to play every game. It was like The Farmer had adopted a five-year-old child.

“Chocolate milk isn’t that special,” The Farmer said.

Red wasn’t all that heavy, but he had noticed the half-second that the Junimo left his hood. “It’s delicious!” Red proclaimed.

“Did you just steal a drink?”

“No.” Red droned. “I caught it in my mouth before a spilled drop hit the ground. I prevented someone from wasting it.”

“You have mouths?”

Red ignored him. “But where does chocolate milk come from? Normal milk comes from cows. But those cows are white, and the milk is white. Since chocolate milk is brown, does it come from brown cows? How come you don’t have any brown cows?”

The Farmer sighed. “Because then I’d have you guys drinking everything before I got a chance to sell it.”

“But why would you sell it? It’s delicious!”  

“But chocolate milk doesn’t even,” The Farmer stopped and sighed. “Look, I’m not arguing about this with you.” He pushed his way through the crowd and back to the town square. He must have gotten turned around since he was on the opposite side of the square now. He looked around for Alex and Haley, eventually spotting them sitting on a bench. And of course, it had to be the bench that was the furthest one away from him.

He raised a hand and was about to call out to them. Before he could utter a syllable, Haley cupped Alex’s face in her hands, and The Farmer’s voice faltered as she pulled it towards her own. The pail slipped out of his hands, spilling its contents. A few people looked over at him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the two.  Alex’s face was completely red when Haley pulled away, and the sight of it made The Farmer’s chest collapse in on itself.

Had he been seeing things? No, there wasn’t any mistaking what he just saw. Haley and Alex were alone. It was a festival, they were having fun. It’s exactly what cliché romance movies tell you. That had to be why Haley sent him away for the food; she wanted to be alone with Alex. He was just the third wheel.

But, why tonight. Why even bother inviting him if she was just going to make the move on Alex? Unless…what if she knew about his feelings? She and Alex were close friends, but he hadn’t told Haley he was gay yet. And tonight, he’d been taking so many liberties with Alex. His suggestive tones, and, oh Yoba, he caressed Alex’s face in front of her.

That’s when she must have realized it Yoba, he was so stupid. He knew she'd been suspicious of him for a while. He'd dropped his guard around her after they'd spent so much time together. With Alex, she'd just become another part of the background. Yoba damnit, he felt like such an idiot. Thinking he actually had a chance with Alex.

Alex and Haley had known each other for years. She must have thought that if she didn’t make a move on Alex now…

It was his fault, all his fault. He told himself, long ago on that stormy summer night, that he wasn’t going to fall for Alex. That he didn’t want to get hurt. So, he kept it all inside and denied it. He denied it to everyone, even himself. But no matter how much he denied it, there were moments, much like tonight, where the feeling gushed out of him like a broken dam and drowned him in it. It was so sweet, so intoxicating that he didn’t even realize he was drowning in it. He couldn’t breathe.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

The Farmer turned sharply. Abby was behind him, her other hand held to her chest. Sebastian and Sam stood a few feet behind her—Sam held a half-eaten corndog and Sebastian a drink—both looking equality concerned as Abby.

“Ah, yeah,” The Farmer quickly pushed Abby’s hand off of him. His eyes felt wet, and he realized he'd been crying silently. The physical contact felt like a thousand needles gouged into his skin. “I-, I’m fine. I just, I just got surprised and dropped my…”

He turned away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. The tears wouldn't stop. He bent down and started picking up the ruined cookies.

Sam and Sebastian exchanged a look. Abby knelt down next to The Farmer, picking up the dropped bucket. It only held about a quarter of the original amount. She said nothing, so neither did he. She rose as he did, waiting for him as he deposited what he’d gathered into a nearby trashcan. He wiped tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie before he turned back. It was obvious what he was doing, but when he turned to Abby she didn't say anything about it. He didn’t meet her eyes as he took the bucket from her. He doubted he could look anyone in the eye without bursting into tears right now. 

They stood there for a second before Abby said, “You know, you can come to me if you need to talk about anything. Sam and Sebby too.”

“Yeah,” Sam stepped forward. “If you need a man to chat to, you can talk to us!”

“You wanna hang out with us for a bit?” Sebastian offered.

The Farmer forced himself to smile. He wanted to barf. “Thanks guys, but sorry. I’m hanging out with Haley and Alex now. It’d be rude to just ditch them. Especially after I dropped Haley’s order.”

Abby’s eyes flitted over toward the other two for just a moment. “Okay, then we’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, see you later.” The Farmer waved them off as the trio disappeared back into the festival booths.

The whole time, Red kept silent and motionless inside The Farmer’s hood. It could sense the anguish, sharp as lighting, the second it struck The Farmer’s heart. It could offer its magic to temporarily make The Farmer stronger. But as the spirit gently pressed its body against The Farmer’s back, it knew there was nothing it could do for the human at this moment. This was something he’d need to get through on his own.

“What happened?” Haley asked, looking down at the mostly empty pail. “Did you get hungry on the way down here?”

“Sorry,” The Farmer laughed. “I accidently ran into a kid and dropped the bucket.”

Alex regarded The Farmer. His laugh was different. It sounded forced. He stared for what he felt was slightly too long, but The Farmer didn’t notice. Was that a bit of red around The Farmer’s eyes?

“Oh,” Haley frowned down at the bucket. “Well, that’s unfortunate, but whatever. Alex, your wallet please.”

“Excuse me?” He said, attention forcibly shifted.

“Your wallet. You’ve got to have milk with cookies, so I’m going to the milk bar. And, I believe you still owe me. I won’t make you two wait up for me.” She extended her hand. Alex could read the silent addition as well. You owe me for giving you two alone time.

Alex begrudgingly pulled his wallet out. As he did, he felt his heartrate speed up. When he handed it off, he’d be alone with The Farmer. He could confess.

“Thank you,” Haley swiped it from him and stood up.

“I don’t mind going with you,” The Farmer said. “I wasn’t feeling like doing much else anyways.”

Haley waved him off. “I’m a big girl. I can fend for myself in a milk bar.”

“I really don’t mind,” he insisted.

Haley paused, squinting at him. “Well maybe I do. Need to spend some quality time with me, myself, and I. Okay?”

Without another word, Haley turned and walked off. The Farmer watched her go, and Alex grew slightly concerned when the other man didn’t turn back to him after Haley disappeared into the crowd.

“So,” Alex said. “What do you wanna do?”

The Farmer shrugged. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. “I don’t know. I’ve gotta start setting up for the Grange Display soon anyways.”

Alex wasn’t sure what else to do with that. The Farmer's words were sharp, cold and short. He refused to met Alex's eyes. It was a complete 180 compared to just a couple of minutes ago. Something heavy turned in his stomach, his gut told him he did something wrong again. Something that upset The Farmer—just like during the Flower Dance.

“Hey, Farmer!” Another voice drew both their attention. The Wizard approached them, his purple hair and black robes billowing behind him. “I need a favor from you,” he said.

“I’m not in the mood,” The Farmer said with distain.

“Come, come, you too, Young Alex!” The Wizard grabbed the wrists of the two men and began pulling them towards the south end of the square.

“Hey! What are you doing?” Alex protested.

“I’ve got an old friend running a booth here.” The Wizard said. “She’s a clairvoyant.”

“Clairwhosit?”

“She can predict your future.” The Wizard explained. “But problem is, her spot’s a bit…”

He trailed off, having pushed them to a lone tent across from the Stardrop Saloon. Both spots around it were empty and the poles holding up the ripped and molding fabric looked half rotten; like they would collapse in on themselves at any moment.

“Creepy?” The Farmer offered.

“Unwelcoming.” The Wizard countered. “If others see you go into the tent and come back out alive-”

“Alive!?” Alex squeaked. “What’s she going to do in there?”

The Wizard ignored him. “Then more people will be willing to get their fortunes read. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Without explaining further, The Wizard shoved the two men into the tent. Alex’s surrounding immediately faded to black. He tried to call out The Farmer’s name, but his voice didn’t come. He wasn’t even sure he had a mouth to speak with anymore. He couldn’t see his own hands in front of his eyes.

But then, a flake of white fell in front of it. Drifting slowly towards the ground, Alex realized it was snow. More snow began to fall around him, and as it accumulated, the scenery around him began to fill itself in. It gathered on the trees and gathered on the railroad tracks. It gathered on the mountains in the distance and it gathered on the small hut behind him.

He was standing in one of the clearings up in the mountains near town. He didn’t see the spa anywhere. But he knew he had to be somewhere nearby, the railroad tracks were proof enough. Maybe he was on the other side of one of the tunnels? But there wasn’t an entrance in sight. The hut didn’t look familiar either. He tried the door, and when it didn’t open he peered into the frosted windows, seeing only smoke.

“Alex!”

Someone ran past him. Alex turned, just in time to spot a man in a grey winter coat and black beanie. They ran down the tracks, disappearing beyond the trees. At that moment, Alex’s heart felt like it was being pulled out through his nostrils. Something told him he needed to follow. He ran after the other man, not noticing the snow under his feet was left undisturbed.

When Alex reached the tracks, the other man was already impossibly far away; only a dot in the distance. Soon to be swallowed up by the forest.

“HIT THE DECK,” a woman’s voice screeched.

Alex was thrown off his feet and he was enveloped in a sudden warmth as everything went white. A deafening roar surrounded him, rushing to assault his eardrums. He heard a train horn blare, then becoming muted as if the train was suddenly submerged in water. Animals bellowed. Children screamed. Everything was ringing.

Eventually, the ringing began to subside. And as it did, his surroundings came back into focus. He stood in the hallway of a hospital. The artificial lights overhead felt harsh on his skin, and the muted pale colors of the walls suffocated him. The ringing was eventually replaced by the sobs of a young boy. The boy and a man stood at the end of the hallway.

“I’m, I’m sorry.” The boy hiccupped. One of his hands wiped the tears from his eyes while the other clung to the old man’s dirt-stained jeans. “He, he, he told me, told me not to, but I, I, I…”

The boy broke down into incomprehensible sobbing. The old man looked down at the boy. Silent tears rolled down the mans face, trickling into this grey beard. His expression was lost as he looked down at the child, unable to say anything.

And then it was dark again. Alex found himself standing inside a moth-eaten tent, The Farmer only a few feet away. His heart pounded and brain reeling as he was unsure of what he had just witnessed. The Farmer seemed unfazed. Was he the only one who saw those visions?

“Welcome, welcome.” Alex instinctively looked towards the woman at the other end of the tent. She dressed in a deep purple shall; it turned pitch black as she walked through the shadows. She sat at a wooden table with her hands folded in her lap. Before her was a crystal ball which rested on a velvet pillow. Next to the ball was a cardboard sign that read “Aura readings, 100g” in black marker.

“I am The Clairvoyant. Your hidden past, your mystifying present, and your unseen future, none can escape my gaze. Would you like me to read your aura?”

“Sure.” The Farmer walked over to her and place his money on the table. He crossed his arms. “But make it quick. I gotta be somewhere soon.”

“Very well.” Her eyes turned to Alex, “Please, come closer young man. Make sure you’re within my divinity when I do my reading. You never know what kind of tricks the spirits may play.”

Alex stepped forward, not sure he could even bring up his sudden vision. What that a side effect of stepping into this place? The Clairvoyant cast a hand over the crystal ball. Nothing flashy happened. In fact, nothing happened at all. At least, not anything that Alex noticed.

But The Clairvoyant seemed to have gotten what she needed. “You,” she pointed at The Farmer. “You are new to this town. The spirits have not yet grown accustomed to your presence. They seem, upset? No, apprehensive. But hopeful. They appear to have big plans for your future, so long as you do not disappoint them.”

The Farmer snorted.

“New you may be, but close friendships you have already made, haven’t you?” She continued. “I see an old man, a wheelchair. He sits before a television. He is angry. He thinks everyone’s forgotten his birthday. But he didn’t think you would.”

“Anything else?” The Farmer asked.

The Clairvoyant's eyes suddenly turned on Alex. She looked back to the ball, then again at Alex. “I see…a young man in your future.”

Alex felt his stomach drop. Surely, The Farmer had noticed the way The Clairvoyant did a double-take with Alex. But when Alex looked over at the other man, he saw no trace of emotion on The Farmer’s face. If anything, he looked like he had that day he confronted Morris.

“This man harbors a wish,” she continued. “A desire, deep within his heart. He desperately wishes to become closer with you but does not know how to continue. He has deep, genuine feelings.”

Alex wanted to scream. She was talking about him. No matter how anyone would look at it, she was talking about his own feelings. The feelings he’d wrestled with for so long, unsure of what they actually were. And here she was, lying them out on the table before the both of them.

The Farmer turned and left the tent without a word.

Alex stood rooted to the spot, suffering from the emotional whiplash he’d just experienced. Here he was, feeling like a frog about to be dissected, and The Farmer was displaying the emotional range of a rock. He’d voiced to Alex his worry of ever finding someone to spent his life with, yet when he’d heard about a future with that, he didn’t react?

“You’d better go after him.” The Clairvoyant scooped The Farmer’s gold off the table and into her hands.

Alex looked at the tent flap, then back at the woman. He bit the inside of his cheek. “Wait,” Alex dug out the spare change in his pocket and placed it onto the table. “Please, these dreams and visions I keep having. Can you tell me what they mean?”

She glanced down at the coins on the table. “You’re short.”

“Please,” Alex’s voice cracked. “I need to know.”

A moment of heavy silence passed, but Alex held his pleading gaze with The Clairvoyant until she sighed in defeat. She scooped up the money. “Fine. Give me your hand, boy.”

Alex did as she said. She snatched it and turned it over, running her thumb across his palm. She released his hand, and then to Alex’s disgust, started sucking her thumb. She popped it out of her mouth, smacking her lips.

“Hm, something’s tampered with your memories, boy.” She looked Alex up and down. “But what? Magic, personal trauma, cheese? It’s hard to tell.”

“Cheese?”

“Dairy may be good for your bones, but cheese will melt your brain!” She sang.

Alex frowned at her, slightly worried he was talking to a madwoman. “I’m sorry, can you just tell me about my dreams? You said they were tampered with?”

The Clairvoyant pursed her lips and pondered. Alex felt as if a lifetime passed before she opened her mouth again. She blinked and her eyes went white and started to glow.

“Gone are simple days, fates children gather as one, to save the red string.”

Alex felt his brain backfire. He knew he must have imagined the glowing eyes. And he definitely hallucinated the tent transforming into a shaded, forest clearing, the old woman’s flesh dissolving, leaving a moss-covered skeleton to speak the words of an oracle. That was most certainly a hallucination. No ‘ifs’, ‘ands’, or ‘buts’ about it. It was the only way to keep his sanity.

He blinked several times, pulling himself back to sanity, before saying, “Excuse me?”

“You didn’t pay full price, so instead of a puzzling prophecy, you get a perplexing haiku.” She waved her hands. “Now leave. I have other customers waiting. Plus, the festival’s almost over.”

“What?” Alex rushed outside, pushing past the sudden crowd that had gathered.  It was true. The sky was dark red, the lamps were just flickering on, and the food tents were closing up shop. How much time had they spent in there?

He made his way back towards Pierre’s, finding The Farmer cleaning up his display. Alex moved towards him, but then stopped. What would he even say? He desperately wanted to ask what happened to him back in The Clairvoyant’s tent. But seeing him again only reminded Alex of the complete lack of emotion from The Farmer. In fact, ever since The Farmer came back from getting Haley her food, he showed absolutely no interest in interacting with them.

The Farmer hoisted up the wooden crate, trying to balance everything else he was carrying on top of it. He made it about three steps before stumbling and almost dropping everything. Alex swallowed his doubts and ran over to him.

He called out, “Hey!”

The Farmer met his eyes, but Alex failed to read anything in them.

“Do you want any help with that?”

“I’m fine.” The Farmer readjusted his grip on his items.

“Are you sure? You seem kind of…”

“Kinda what?”

Alex felt another frog in his throat. The Farmer didn’t sound rude or mean-spirited. But Alex could tell something was bothering him. Silence passed between them before The Farmer sighed.

“Here,” The Farmer shoved the crate into Alex’s arms, taking the smaller items balanced on top for himself. “If you’re gonna insist, you’re carrying the heavy stuff.”

Alex stood in the square for a moment, watching The Farmer’s back as he walked away. For a split second, Alex felt like he’d been turned to stone, unable to follow and forced to watch The Farmer disappear into the distance. Like an unending nightmare that would squeeze its fingers around his heart.

Then The Farmer paused and turned his head back towards Alex. Alex saw the bags under The Farmers eyes, deep and purple. He slouched and his arms seemed like they were barely able to hold his things anymore. He was, in all possible definitions of the word, exhausted. A man that simply needed rest. Alex forced himself forward, and jogged to catch up with The Farmer.

The two walked mostly in silence, mixing in with the small crowd that was leaving town. The area around the bus was serving as a make-shift parking lot for out-of-towners, so there were plenty of people walking about and chatting happily. Alex felt his eyes instinctively wander, watching the other people make their way to their cars. His eyes fell on a couple that walked a few feet ahead of them, hand-in-hand.

He wondered what it would be like, to hold The Farmer’s hand just as they walked. Their fingers would lace together and they’d step just ever so slightly closer to one another in silence. Just enjoying being in the others presence. Maybe they’d find a quiet spot to just sit down at and watch the sunset. The Farmer would rest his head on Alex’s shoulder and close his eyes…

“Saber?”

The Farmer’s voice snapped Alex out of his daydream. The two had broken away from the pack of people leaving town and were on the path back to the farm. Sitting in a tree a little way ahead of the two men was in fact The Farmer’s cat. Saber rested on one of the lower branches, body pressed up against the tree trunk.

“Saber, what are you doing up there?”

The Farmer stopped below the tree branch, looking up at his cat with concern. Saber carefully walked further out on the branch until he was directly over The Farmer. After flicking his tail once, the cat leapt from the branch, landing squarely on The Farmer’s shoulder. Alex wasn’t sure what to do as the cat very purposefully dove into the hood of The Farmer’s sweater. Saber’s head emerged, looking victorious, before leaping to the ground.

“Saber! What are you doing?” The Farmer called after his cat.

Saber paused at the edge of the undergrowth. The cat looked back at the two men, blinked, and then disappeared into the foliage.

“Dumb cat,” The Farmer muttered. “I wonder if he cut me with his claws at all…” He felt the back of his neck with one hand. Alex noticed a very intentional pause when he reached into his hood.

“You okay?” Alex asked.

The Farmer looked up quickly, like he’d forgotten Alex was there. “Oh yeah. I’m sure he’ll be fine…” He said the last part more to himself, looking at the spot Saber had disappeared.

“No, are-,” Alex forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. “I mean, are you okay? You seem kind of out of it.”

The Farmer glanced at him, and Alex caught a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes. “I’m just not feeling all that well.” He turned and continued up the path.

Alex followed, quickly falling in step with him. He opened his mouth before he could stop himself. “Was it something The Clairvoyant said?”

He noticed a small twitch of annoyance on The Farmer’s face before the other man spoke. “Everyone knows fortune tellers pick very specific words and only make vague guesses. That way your everyday life can be misinterpreted into you believing they’re right.”

“But what about that stuff with my grandpa? You two have been getting along pretty well lately,” Alex promoted. “How’d she know about that?”

The Farmer scoffed. “No offense Alex, but your grandpa isn’t exactly the nicest person in Pelican Town. I ran into him outside Pierre’s and when Caroline walked out she nearly fainted. Said the sight of George engaging in normal conversation scared her half to death. I’m sure that clairvoyant had plenty of time to listen to town gossip. She probably picked it up from that.”

Alex could see The Farmer’s cottage in the distance. They were getting closer now. If he kept beating around the bush, nothing good would come of it. He blurted it out before he could lose his nerve. “What about that thing about a boy?”

There was absolutely no reaction from The Farmer. He continued walking straight ahead and said nothing.

Alex felt his confidence falter, popped like a balloon. Despite that, he couldn’t keep the words from falling out of his mouth. The longer he went on, the less confident he sounded. “She said, I don’t recall exactly, but she said that this guy really likes you, right?”

“She never said anything like that.” The Farmer said bluntly. “She only mentioned feelings and wanted to get to know me better. Never said what kind of feelings. Never said why they wanted to get to know me. Like I said, vague wording that could be misinterpreted. Anything concrete could discredit her.”

They were at the edge of The Farmer’s property now. He snorted. “Hey, you know what? I bet it’s Pierre she saw. Probably hopes I’ll sell for less if he gets on my good side.”

Alex didn’t laugh at the joke. The two climbed up the front stoop, and as The Farmer pushed open his front door, Alex asked. “What if there was someone? Someone who wanted to be with you.” 

The Farmer paused in the doorway. Alex desperately wished he could see The Farmer’s face, but the other man displayed only his back. When he did turn around, Alex was greeted with a half-smile. The Farmer stepped forward and took Alex’s box from him before disappearing into the house. As he did, his fingers brushed against Alex’s. His pulse quickened.

“Thanks for trying to cheer me up Alex.”

Alex fought the urge to cry. His words were being misinterpreted. The Farmer was clearly hurt by something that happened tonight. But he wouldn’t open up about it. Alex thought they’d made progress, but watching the other man now made him feel like he was looking at that same person who’d moved here three months ago. The Farmer was hiding behind that same mask he’d shown up in, afraid to let people see what was underneath.

“I’m kind of thirsty,” Alex added desperately calling through the open door. He needed to keep the conversation going. He needed to be near The Farmer, help him out with whatever was troubling him. If The Farmer invited him in, maybe, just maybe, he’d let his guard back down.

The Farmer returned, offering Alex a bottle of water. “I hope I didn’t ruin your night. Moping about something stupid like this.”

“No, not at all.” Alex felt his throat clench as he took the water. When he looked into The Farmer’s eyes, he failed to recognize anything. “If it’s really nothing too serious that’s bothering you…”

The Farmer’s smile then seemed so fake, Alex would have thought it genuine. “No, nothing serious.” The Farmer said. “I just got to overthinking about some mistakes I keep making, sorry. I’ll see you later.”

Before Alex could even think of anything to say, the door was closed. He felt dumbstruck. He had no idea what to do in this situation. The light inside hadn’t been turned on yet. Was The Farmer just sitting in there, back against the door? Should he go in there, demand that The Farmer tell him what was going on?

The Farmer’s exhausted expression crossed Alex’s mind again. He looked down at the water bottle in his hand, gripping it slightly tighter. Maybe he needed some personal space and rest for now. The finer details of The Farmer’s debt to Joja was way over Alex’s head. At the very least he knew it was stressing him out. Alex wanted to just wrap his arms around The Farmer, hold him, and tell him everything would work out eventually.

He thought about the way The Farmer smiled at the fair tonight. How much fun he’d been having, how genuine his expressions had been. If that was all Alex could offer The Farmer, then so be it. With a final, longing gaze at the closed door, Alex turned and headed home.

“DAMNIT ALL!”

Popcorn crashed against the wall of the Arts n’ Crafts room of the Community Center after the image showed The Athlete leaving the farm. Various cries of disapproval rose up from the spirits gathered in the room.

“Why don’t they just get together already? They clearly like each other!” Green wailed.

Yellow started moving toward the door. “That’s it. I’m going to The Hero and telling him how The Athlete feels.”

“No!” Blue ran after Yellow, grabbing the other Junimo by the arm. “Don’t you push them! They’ve got to work it out for themselves.”

“But look at this!” Orange leapt up towards the front of the room and threw its body against the wall. The image flicked away, changing back to the portraits of the townsfolk. Orange scrolled all the way to the top. Alex’s portrait still sat far above the rest. But, the last heart was slowly flickering from full to empty. Silence held the room in a deadly grip, until the heart eventually stayed empty.

Immediately, cries of anguish filled the room.

“If this continues, what’s gonna happen to The Hero?” Orange demanded, yelling over the crying.

“It could ruin him,” Green muttered. “If The Hero loses motivation, then we might lose our home!”

“Enough!” White bellowed. All spirits turned to the elder, who had placed itself at the front of the room. “Nothing good will come of worrying over nothing. The Hero has already been steadily supplying us with items for the ritual. Why should we worry anymore?”

“But White,” Orange said, “The only reason The Hero was able to keep bringing us offerings was because The Athlete was able to assist him. In fact,” Orange went back to the wall. It made a few more swipes, and several, complicated-looking graphs appeared. “Based on our projections, with The Athlete’s assistance, The Farmer could have gathered enough materials for the ritual by next spring.”

“But what’s this?” Green hobbled over to screen, pointing at the light green line on the graph. It rose very quickly, almost going above and beyond the graph. But at the last minute, the line nosedived to the very bottom.

“That is our worst fear,” Orange solemnly said.

A hush fell over them. Only White spoke. “You don’t mean…”

“Yes.”

“No, don’t say it…” Yellow begged.

Orange balled its tiny hands in fists and turned its back on the other Junimos. “The friendzone variable.”

Blue let loose a high-pitched scream, then fell onto its back and fainted.

Orange continued. “If things continue the way that it is, The Hero will have his heart broken. He won’t be able to get over The Athlete. He’ll have a wonderful friendship, but he will lose the courage to open up his heart to anyone else. In that scenario, it may take ten years before we have everything we need. And by that time…”

White finished for Orange. “If that happens, many of us could fade away.”

None spoke, heavy silence filled the air.

“What are we going to do?” Yellow asked weakly.

Orange puffed up for a moment, as if inhaling heavily. “We eliminate the variable. If he never gets his heart broken, he should be able to finish by at least three years. We don’t think anyone will start fading away until five years, right?” 

Green laughed once. “You mean eliminate The Athlete? We can barely handle The Beast with three of us. How do you think we could eliminate a human?”

“Simple.” Orange hopped over to another wall, peeling back the wallpaper and revealing a hole filled with papers. Orange pulled the papers out and laid them before the other spirits. At first glance, it appeared to be crude children’s drawings.

“First, we steal one of The Wizard’s sleeping potions.” Orange explained. “Then, after The Athlete drinks it, we all work together to carry his mattress out of his home and dump it in the river. The current will carry him out into the ocean, and voila! One variable removed.”

“But won’t The Hero be even more hurt if The Athlete just disappears?” Yellow asked.

“That’s what The Witch is for,” Orange pointed to a part of the paper covered in black crayon scribbles. “If we petition her, she can remove him from everyone’s memory. Then, we focus on making sure The Hero doesn’t suffer any more heartbreak.”

The Junimos muttered amongst themselves for a while.

“Well, elder?” Green asked White after a few minutes of deliberation.

White closed its eyes and pondered before answering. “We wait. Heartbreak is still a far way off. The rewards currently outweigh the risk. But for now, we will keep both of them under careful observation. If their relationship continues to fall apart, then we will carry out the plan to remove The Athlete.”

Saber charged through town, carefully weaving between the legs of the humans when he had to. He hated this many people out here. It made him uneasy. More than once had an unknown child tried to grab at his tail. But he couldn’t even warn them off with a hiss. His mouth was full with live cargo—cargo that was fighting to be free.

Luckily for the cat, Saber was already near the Community Center. Diving into the bushes, he spit the little spirit out onto the ground. As Red coughed and stuttered to rise to its feet, Saber rested on his hind haunches and curiously watched the spirit.

“That-, that’s right, you dumb old beast,” Red gasped for air. “I-, I got out! Let this be a lesson for you.”

Saber stared down at Red. He raised his right paw.

Red screamed, raising its hands in defense.

Saber gently pressed his paw against the top of Red’s head. When Red opened its eyes, Saber blinked at it. And then, after taking his paw back, Saber disappeared back in the direction of the farm.

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 23rd

For the last week, things around the farm had been different. The most immediate and noticeable one to Saber had been the lack of visits from that other human, the one called Alex. Alex used to come every other day, and he spent many afternoons with The Farmer. They didn’t appear to be mates, but his presence clearly made The Farmer happy, so it made Saber happy. Plus, Alex was always ready to give out head scratches and belly rubs.

But once Alex stopped coming to the farm, The Farmer’s chores became sloppy. While he used to rise with the morning sun and Saber could sleep until midday, farmer and cat had swapped sleeping habits. On the first day it happened, Saber woke to the hungry cries of the other animals—four chickens, four ducks, and the new calf. It was well past midday, and The Farmer had not risen from his bed. He didn’t appear to hear the other animals, and when Saber attempted to wake him up with a belly-flop from the bed’s headboard, the cat only succeeded in getting himself locked out of the house.

The second time it happened, Saber didn’t attempt to wake up his human. Instead, he had trotted outside and discovered the chickens had broken free and were savagely plucking away at an ear of corn they’d gotten from a felled corn stalks. Meanwhile, the ducks were attempting to free the calf from the barn so it could join them. After a short discussion with the other animals—which was just a bunch of hissing, terrified clucking, and disinherited mooing—Saber got them back into their respective barns. After a few, first unsuccessful attempts, Saber eventually figured out how to get enough feed to the other animals to prevent further riots.

Thankfully, on the third day, The Farmer managed to pull himself out of bed before midday. However, instead of lying about the farm that day, he trotted along with The Farmer as he went about his chores. He watered the crops and tended to the animals, but Saber had known something was off. His actions became sluggish as the day went on, and after finishing he’d return directly to his house to either lie down or he’d stare at papers spread across the table for hours at a time. He didn’t like it when Saber tried to get on top of the table.

But something else was bothering Saber. It was those annoying spirits that had infested the valley. Weeks ago, when he first chased them off the farm and back to town, they’d only try bothering his human once a week. Now, they seemed to have a special interest in The Farmer and finding the spirits breaking into the house became a daily occurrence. Even on days they made no attempt, Saber could spot at least three of them hiding among the trees while his human completed his daily chores.

That’s why tonight, Saber felt just as on edge as his human did. The sun had set hours ago, yet neither human nor cat slept. The Farmer had tossed and turned in bed for hours while Saber watched him from his spot atop the fridge, alert and ready to pounce at any spirit that tried to disturb what little sleep The Farmer would be able to get.

Only, The Farmer wasn’t going to sleep. Saber’s ears perked up as his human threw off the covers of his bed. He moved about the house, exuding an aura of frustration. He shoved a few items into his bag, threw a sweater on over his night clothes, and rushed outside. Saber winced at the force that was used to slam the door. Leaping down from the fridge and crossing to the open window, Saber made to follow his human into the night.

A full moon shown overhead, but its light offered no warmth to the valley. The only sounds made tonight were the dull crunches of The Farmer’s footsteps over the dry grass. Saber followed in silence as The Farmer made his way north. He heard no animals in the underbrush, nor did Saber see any of the annoying spirits during their walk into the mountains. A cold presence enveloped them, radiating from The Farmer.

The Farmer’s pace quickened the longer he walked, each step becoming heavier and stronger than the last. The two were practically sprinting by the time The Farmer reached the house in the mountain. He charged right by, barreling up the narrow path behind. Halfway, a deep, pained scream erupted from The Farmer. Saber dove into a nearby bush when The Farmer ripped his backpack off and slammed it into the ground.

“Yoba damn it all!” He punted the backpack into the woods. The Farmer took fistfuls of his own hair and fell to his knees. Sobs began to rack his body and he curled into a fetal position. “Why, why, w-why,” he choked on his own tears, voice barely audible to even himself. “Why can’t I just forget about him?”

Saber remained in the bushes. He fought his instincts to go to his human’s side. He had a plan, and he needed to stay hidden for it to work. He needed to know where his human was going to end up for the night.

In only a few minutes, the cold from the earth had seeped into Saber’s bones. The cat shivered quietly in his hiding place, until finally, The Farmer stood. His limbs hung limply at his side, and his shoulders drooped. He sniffled, drying his eyes with his sleeves and wiping his nose. It took him a few moments to find where he’d kicked the bag to, but once he retrieved it, he set off again. This time at a much slower pace.

Saber followed from a safe distance, stalking The Farmer until the human eventually pushed open the front door to the building he'd taken shelter in during the storm. After a moment, the lights on the upper floor flared to life. It was a beacon of light among the sea of darkness, an inland lighthouse nestled among the forest. Through the glass windows, Saber saw The Farmer placed his backpack down and sink to the floor. Time passed, and Saber paced to keep warm. Once Saber became certain his human would not move from his spot, the cat turned and raced back towards town.

Humans were difficult. Saber knew this from his earliest memories, pulled from his mother stuffed into a box with his siblings. He remembered being roughly handled by others, never full, never getting proper sleep, and always terrified. But then he found his way into The Farmer’s care. After running away and being found by a young girl on the ranch, hidden among hay bales during a particularly frigid winter, he found himself at an odd sort of crossroads.

The Farmer seemed disinterested by Sabers initial, standoffish behavior. But The Farmer always filled a bowl with clean water and left food out for him. He never expected anything from Saber, and Saber could come and go as he pleased. Saber initially jumped away whenever The Farmer approached during one of his naps. But after a while, he realized that The Farmer didn’t pay much attention to what Saber did.

When enough time passed, Saber started to let The Farmer pet him. The affection felt good, and Saber could tell that the human’s smile did not hold any malice behind it. He was genuinely kind and never demanded anything from Saber. He let Saber be, let him grow comfortable. So, Saber stayed, enjoying his peace.

But then those damn spirits showed up. They kept wanting to interfere with The Farmer, and more importantly, Saber’s naps. So, Saber had started nightly assaults on the Community Center. It was actually fun for the first few nights, but after realizing that they couldn’t really fight back, Saber grew bored. But they were still terrified of him, and so he’d nap in obvious places. He felt smugly satisfied when he noticed they’d begun to camp out the farm, just to keep an eye on him. Maybe they would have stayed at a distance.

But then Saber noticed they’d started to stalk The Farmer as well. A bit of snooping and camping out on windowsills, and Saber discovered they were trying to meddle in The Farmer’s personal affairs.

The Farmer was doing fine, Saber knew his human enjoyed the company of Alex, and Alex enjoyed the company of his human. Something had happened between them recently, but they’d work it out. But that only if the Junimos kept their noses out of it. Then again, there was one spirit that didn’t seem as dim as the rest.

When Saber reached the edge of town, he veered left and made for the Community Center. Silently, he slipped through an opening in the back of the building and made his way inside. Spirits slept among the rafters and on the mildew-coated furniture. Carefully stepping around them, Saber scanned the rooms until he found the spirit he needed. With a quick snap of his jaw, he snatched the spirit and ran out of the building.

The spirit fought back, probably not taking well to the fact it had just been eaten. Saber had to press the Junimo to the roof of his mouth to keep from swallowing it. He made his way across town to the wooden fence surrounding Dusty’s dog house. Dusty lifted his head sleepily as Saber leapt over the fence and landed in the enclosure. Saber spit the Junimo onto the ground before Dusty.

“That! That will show you!” Red sputtered, slowing pulling itself up after it landed. “Teach you to not-, to not surprise attack us again.”

Saber rolled his eyes and flicked his tail impatiently. “Meow.”

“Excuse me?” Red said. “You want me to what?”

Saber meowed again, conveying his plan to both Red and Dusty. Dusty was sitting up, tail wagging, and barked happily in agreeance.

“Are you insane?” Red exclaimed. “That will never work. And why would I trust you?”

“Meow.”

Dusty’s paw suddenly came down on Red’s head, and the dog leaned down to growl at the spirit. He made sure Red had a nice look at his fangs.

“Okay, okay!” Red hollered. “I’ll do it. But you have to promise to never eat me again! I’m the only one here with opposable thumbs, so you need me.”

“Meow.”

Dusty released him, and Red sprung away. The spirit leapt onto Dusty’s back and unhooked the leash from the collar. Dusty immediately ran to the far side of the enclosure, knocking Red off, and rolled around in the dirt, barking happily.

Red jumped up, dusting himself off and Saber meowed again. “What?” Red snapped. “Why do I need to get that? Couldn’t you have gotten it just as easily?”

Saber flicked his tail, and a low growl issued from Dusty’s throat.

“Okay, fine!” Red jumped the fence before it could be threatened anymore. “Give me ten minutes before you do anything. Then I’ll be ready.”

“What in the world is that dog going on about?” George yelled angrily from his bed.

“I’ll check on him,” Alex called. He’d already pulled his letterman jacket on over his pajamas. He fumbled with the zipper, which refused to work properly this early in the morning, before giving up. Dusty’s excessive barking had woken him up a few minutes ago. A glance at his phone’s clock made him dread about the coming morning. It was four in the morning and Dusty had more than likely woken up the whole town by now. He just knew that there’d be more than a few angry glances shot his way for the next couple of days.

Outside, once he flicked the flashlight on, Alex immediately noticed what was wrong. Dusty had managed to pry himself halfway through one of the loose boards that made up his enclosure. Now Dusty was stuck, his body a squirming mass in the darkness.

He immediately knelt down to the dog’s side and stroked Dusty’s head calmly. “Hey buddy, we’ll get you out of there. It’ll be okay.”

At Alex’s touch, Dusty stopped barking, but a low growl rumbled in his throat. The dog stared off into the distance. Alex felt a heavy knot form in his stomach as he turned to peer into the darkness. He saw nothing sulking about the shadows behind the saloon, so he assumed Dusty had simply been spooked by a falling acorn or something.

“Alright, buddy. You promise to be quiet and I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, okay?” Alex said with a wink.

At this, Dusty’s ears perked up. The dog’s previous demeanor completely changed in that split second. Then in the next second, a cat’s screech cut through the air. It was such a shock that Alex’s heart jumped into his throat. He spun around, wiping the flashlight in the direction of clattering metal.  One of the trash cans behind the saloon had been toppled, the lid clattering across the stonetop. A streak of orange darted underneath the lamplight, charging north towards Pierre’s.

Saber? The thought barely registered for Alex before Dusty pulled himself free and charged after the cat, barking loudly with every leap. Bedroom lights all around the village started coming alive. As Alex gave chase, he spotted outlines of the townsfolk in their windows, trying to figure out what had woken them up. He felt a flash of embarrassment. Surely, they must have thought that Dusty had caught Linus eating food out of the trash again.

Alex regretted not dressing more appropriately for the night. The cold air bit through his plaid pajama bottom. His jacket that stubbornly refused to zip up, flapped against his body and exposed his torso—covered only by a very thin tank top—to the night. His cheeks stung as he ran into the mountain after his dog, the numbness that was setting in was starting to make them feel warm instead.

Dusty ignored his calls, bewildering Alex. It had been years since his dog had displayed this kind of rebellious puppy energy. He wasn't able to catch another glimpse at what Dusty was chasing as they ran. In fact, it felt more like they were playing a game of tag. Dusty would sometimes stop at a tree and spin around to see where Alex was before wildly charging away again. But Dusty was old, and whatever had inspired this burst of energy was quickly fading. Alex was gaining ground, and by the time they reached Robin’s backyard, he finally manage to hook his fingers around Dusty’s collar.

Dusty immediately started yapping loudly, tugging against Alex’s grip.

“Dusty, stop it!” Alex knelt down to his dog’s side, stroking his head calmly with his free hand. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

Dusty turned to look at Alex with a whimper.

Giant, sad puppy-dog eyes made Alex loosen his grip on the collar. “Why are you so worked up?”

Dusty whimpered again, swiveling his head toward the mountain path. A prickle of fear touched Alex’s stomach. It was probably just the fact that he was out on the mountain in the middle of the night, but the strong winds that pushed through the tree branches evoked his memories of the storm last summer. 

Dusty jerked forward suddenly, freeing himself from Alex’s grip. Alex called after him, afraid the dog was going to charge off again, but Dusty simply trotted several feet away, turned, and sat. He barked once, tail wagging back and forth in the dirt. Very confused, Alex walked over and saw that Dusty had something under his front paw.

Alex's stomach flipped as he recognized the fabric. Two times he'd been up in the mountain late at night, and that already felt like too much. He knelt down to pick up The Farmer's lost bandana and stared at it. His mind raced; last time The Farmer had been caught in a small mudslide. Sure, there wasn't a ragging hurricane tonight, but there was still a lot  of bad things that could happen on a mountain at night. 

A bark from Dusty broke his train of thought, and Alex realized his dog had already trotted off. He looked up just in time to see Dusty's tail disappearing into the darkness of the mountain path that lead higher into the spa. Alex stuffed the bandana into his pocket and followed.

The dog was much slower now, walking along the path at a slow pace. His nose was pushed into the dirt, sniffing and huffing rapidly as if he were tracking a scent. Alex followed a few feet behind, letting his dog take the lead. He didn't try to call out anymore, for fear of breaking Dusty's concentration from tracking whatever scent he'd latched onto.

After a short hike up the path, Dusty eventually brought Alex straight to the Spa. The dog trotted over to the entrance, sitting himself next to the front door and looking toward Alex expectantly. Alex had seen the lights before he saw the Spa, the brilliance from the upper floor illuminating the night. He couldn't discern any movement through the windows, and as far as he was aware, no one in town even used the upper floor anymore. It used to act as a recreation room, a place where people could sit and drink coffee or play games after their baths.

A bark from Dusty brought his attention back, the dog was now pawing at the front door, casting a look toward his human every few seconds. Alex walked over and pulled it open, and Dusty darted inside before going to curl up in the corner. He rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Alex stared at Dusty with an frown that was half concern and half annoyed, before letting his curiosity get the better of him. He pushed through the door of the men’s entrance and disappeared into the spa.

A few seconds after his human disappeared through the door, there was a sudden scratching of claws against the entrance. Dusty’s ears perked up a second before the dog stood. He trotted over to the door and pushed it open with his snout. The moment the door was open far enough, Saber shot inside, Red riding on his back. The whole cat’s body was shaking.

“MEOW.”

“Oh, you’re overreacting,” Red said. “We weren’t outside for that long.”

Saber rolled over, forcing the spirit off of his back. Before Red could recover, Saber swatted it to the other side of the room. Red shot up, immediately vowing revenge on The Beast and sharing a few choices words it had learn from humans with it. Dusty, not interested in the spat, trotted back over to his spot in the corner and curled up once again.

The Spa was far too quiet. Not even the familiar drip of a leaky shower head greeted Alex tonight. He almost forgot to breathe while tip-toeing past the bathroom stalls. The lights were off, but he didn’t dare turn them on. Maybe it had something to do with his dog’s strange behavior tonight. Maybe it was finding one of The Farmer’s bandanas out in the woods. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Alex had no memory of the upstairs lights ever working before. Whatever the reason, walking through the tonight the Spa felt like he'd trespassed into a graveyard. It was a place of silent peace that was so fragile that even the faintest sound could shatter it.

Then, at the end of the hallway, he noticed it. A door, set in the wall just to the left of the weightlifting room, was ajar. He’d never given the door much thought before. The first time he opened it and found that it'd just lead to a storage room, he largely ignored it. In fact, he distinctly remembered the door’s hinges covered in crimson-brown rust the last time he'd given the door any thought. But now, even in the dark, he could clearly see that the door’s hinges were now silver.

With his hand tentatively over the door handle, Alex braced himself for the ear-splitting groan that would fill the Spa once he opened it. But it never came. The door smoothly swung open, the hinges silent and well greased. The door opened immediately to a staircase, and Alex remained rooted to the spot. He stared up the stairs and felt as if he stood at the maw of a tamed beast waiting to be fed. A lump formed in Alex’s throat and he forced himself to swallow it before taking a tentative first step forward.

The door at the very top was closed. A sliver of light that came through the open space between the bottom of the door and the floor caressed Alex’s body as he climbed. When he reached the top step, Alex very gently placed his hand on the door. But what he heard behind it made him pause. Behind the door was a very familiar voice. A voice that was always full of beautiful sounds, from sassy retorts to an orchestrate joyful laughter. A voice Alex had grown used to hearing his own name spoken in.

But behind this door, all he heard was The Farmer crying.

Alex's stomach twisted at this new, disgusting, and terrible sound. It was soft, like he was trying to hold it in, but a louder sob would cut above the rest every few seconds.  The very walls of the building felt as if they were collapsing around him, crushing his body with suffocating weight. It terrified him like nothing else. 

Alex stared deeply into the grain of the wooden door, unable to move. His heart felt strained, like it was being stretched and pulled in every direction. They'd barely spoken in the week since the festival. He was trying to give The Farmer space, so the man could sort out whatever emotions he was going through. There was a pang in his chest whenever he thought about just how distance they'd suddenly become after that night. But listening to The Farmer, sobbing his heart out on the other side of that door, that pain in his chest was agonizing. 

He pushed through the door before the action even registered in his mind. 

He had no idea what was causing The Farmer’s suffering, and Alex didn’t have the first clue on how he could fix it. Hearing the sobs was so painful that Alex felt tears start to well up in his own eyes. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Alex searched the room.

His gaze fell on The Farmer almost immediately. The other man was on an old bench nearby. He was bent forward, taking fistfuls of his own hair in his hands and head between his knees. A backpack sat on the floor in front of him and a notebook sat on the bench next to him. Littering the floor around him were balls of paper, crumpled and torn.

Barbed wire strangled Alex's heart. 

“Farmer?”

But The Farmer didn’t hear him. He continued to cry, rocking back and forth slowly on the bench.

Alex walked slowly towards him, circling around until he was directly in front of him. He knelt down and gingerly placed a hand on The Farmer’s knee.

Instantly, The Farmer shot up and smacked Alex’s hand away with such force that Alex staggered back himself.  The momentum from the movement knocked The Farmer backward over the bench, and he landed on his back with a loud 'THUMP'.

“H-Hey, are you okay?” Alex jumped up and stepped over the bench. He reached down to take the other man’s hand.

The Farmer didn’t take it. He looked at Alex with tear-filled eyes, bloodshot and puffy. There were deep, purple bags under his eyes and his hair was an unkempt mess. He stared at Alex, letting silence hang between them. Alex recognized the fear and anxiety swimming behind The Farmer's eyes, making his throat close up. Quickly, The Farmer pulled himself up, pointedly not taking Alex's hand, and turned his back to the man.

“Why?” The Farmer said forcefully. His voice was hoarse.

Alex was at a loss of words, unable to think of anything to say. 

“Alex. What are-, what are you doing here?” The Farmer still didn’t look at him. His arms were wrapped tightly around himself in a vise grip hug, clutching the fabric of his sweater between his fingers. It sounded as though he were holding back tears. His voice straining to let everything go.

Again, Alex couldn't find his words.

“Alex." The Farmer repeated, harsher. It was bitter, spiteful sounding. It churned Alex's stomach. It had been years since he'd heard his name spoke like that. The fact that it was him saying it this way now, was pure torture.  

“Dusty,” Alex forced himself to say. His throat felt dry, like he hadn't spoken in year. “Dusty, ah, got loose and I chased him up here. I saw the light and was curious.”

“Well now you know. So why don’t you leave?”

The words plunged into Alex like knives. He wanted to ask The Farmer what was wrong. Wanted to know how to fix whatever was causing this. He needed to do something to feel useful. “Can I help?”

“I’m fine,” The Farmer’s voice cracked. “I can handle this by myself.”

Alex waited. He didn't want to leave, Haley could call him an idiot all she wanted, but even he knew his actions in his moment would affect their relationship. Even if that relationship didn’t become romantic, he wanted to be someone the other man could turn to, no matter what.

Alex spoke slowly, choosing his next words carefully. “I know you can. You’re strong, you've proven that enough. But you’ve been by yourself for so long." He reached out, placing a hand on The Farmer's back, feeling how tense the man held his entire body. Like a rubber band, stretched to it's utmost. 

"Please don’t turn me away.”

The room was silent for a long time.  Only the sound of their breathing filled the air.

Then, all of the tension went out of of The Farmer's body, and he started crying again. 

Alex didn’t hesitate. He pulled The Farmer into his embrace, wrapping his arms around the other man as he crumpled into Alex. He felt the man lose all energy to even remain standing, forced to use his own strength to keep them both upright. Alex clutched his body, pressing himself into The Farmer as deeply as possible. It wasn’t some natural thing that he instinctively knew how to do. It was a selfish desire that he allowed to manifest just this once. He wanted to be the one The Farmer turned to, the one to comfort him, stroke his hair and tell him it’d be alright.

And so he did just that. Alex brought one hand up to stroke the back of The Farmer’s head, running his fingers across the back of the other man’s head, feeling the hair against his skin. He took a shaky breath, and then said two words.

“It’s okay.”

“It’s okay.”

Those two words echoed endlessly inside The Farmer’s head. As they bounced around and reverberated against his skull, the world fell away around him. The only thing he felt was the warmth from Alex’s body and those arms holding him both fiercely and tenderly. His utter exhaustion, which he'd been holding off for as long as he could with sheer willpower, seeped into every atom of his being.

He wanted to push away from Alex, because it wasn't fair. It didn't feel fair that he should be receiving all this kindness and comfort from a man he harbored feelings for. The Farmer knew Alex wasn't going to return his feelings, and it would be selfish to remain this way; to take advantage of his kindness, all so that The Farmer could cling to the fantasy that they could be something more. But Alex refused to let go, and his grip only got tighter the few times that The Farmer actually tried to push away. After a week of insomnia he'd suffered through, The Farmer was just too fatigued to break free.

With his will broken down, he gave in. He let the guilt of his selfishness wash over him as he took fistfuls Alex's shirt. He pulled the fabric close to his face, hating himself for the sliver of joy he was able to gleam from the embrace, and then The Farmer let all his tears fall.

It was like a failing dam had finally given way; all his pent-up frustration and anxiety rushing out in a disastrous mess and flooding the room with his emotions. Ever since the fair, he felt like he’d been suffocating and drowning in his own  body. For so long, he’d desperately tried to reach the surface, but every time he reached it, he was alone and unable to pull himself out before the next wave of emotion pushed him back.

Then, as if a cruel prank by Yoba, the next time he surfaced, Alex was there. Hand out and offering The Farmer respite from this maelstrom of solitude and despair. Yet the longer The Farmer clung to him, the worse he the storm would be. He hated himself, for how strongly he let Alex affect him. He'd been rejected before, but not once had a rejection caused him to suffer like this. His heart wreathed painfully in his chest every time that image of Alex and Haley flashed across his mind. All The Farmer's daydreams, whims, and fantasies of him and Alex ever being a couple laid shattered and broken around him. 

And yet, Alex, blissfully unaware of his own part in The Farmer's torment, was still there to offer his comfort. So for now, The Farmer clung to to him. He clung desperately and selfishly to Alex’s shirt, staining it with his tears as they floated alone, but together, in the middle of this drowned room.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when The Farmer felt his tears begin to subside. At some point during his tantrum, the two had transitioned to sitting on the floor. Alex was resting his back against the wall and The Farmer had knelt between the other man's legs, his head resting on Alex’s shoulder. Alex still had his arms around him, never indicating that he was going to pull away any time soon.

The Farmer’s throat burned, his eyes were irritated, and he wanted to sleep. It would have been so easy to just fall asleep in Alex’s arms at that moment, to put off dealing with the aftermath of his breakdown. He knew Alex would have questions, but he knew Alex would have let him fall asleep just like that. That’s the kind of person Alex was. He’d be concerned about how the whole situation had come about, and then try to do whatever he could do to help.

He was just too damn kind.

Slowly, The Farmer let his hands fall from Alex’s shirt. His tears had stopped all together now, but he wasn't ready to look Alex in the eye. Instead, he slid his own arms around the other man's waist, pulling himself as tightly as he could and not caring what Alex might think. This might be the one and only time he'd ever get to experience this, especially if Alex and Haley were actually getting together. He doubted Haley would want to see Alex cuddling with another man on a regular basis. The Farmer had avoided them all week, unable to trust himself to not break into tears at the sight of them together. 

Alex continued to hold him in silence, and The Farmer was tempted to see just how long he would allow their embrace to last. The cold from the room was seeping into his back, and Alex was pleasingly warm. It was like he had the effect of a weighted blanket, making The Farmer feels safe and comfortable. Eventually though, The Farmer knew it was time to let go.

The room felt much colder when he did.

Keeping his eyes on the ground, The Farmer positioned himself so that he sat next to Alex, back to the wall. He allowed himself to rest his head on the man’s shoulder. He’d already been selfish enough tonight, how could a little more even taint Alex’s perception of him at this point? They were alone, and whatever happened next would always be their moment. 

After a few seconds, Alex finally asked the first question, “Are you okay?”

The Farmer sighed and closed his eyes. “Define okay.”

“Are you feeling better than when I first found you?”

“Well...I’m just ready to sleep now. So, I guess that’s an improvement since I haven't slept all week.”

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

The Farmer ignored the question. He didn’t want to talk about it. There's no way in hell he could explain it to Alex; at least, not the full truth. He leaned forward and grabbed for his backpack, which still sitting in the middle of the floor. He pulled out his notebook and flipped through the pages. He eventually found the page he was looking for and handed it to Alex. “You know, when I first moved out here, I didn’t exactly have a lot of ambition. I thought that, at the most, I’d have a small little garden. Nothing too grand or excessive, just enough so that I could sell a bit of it at a produce stand once a month.”

Alex smiled slightly as he took the notebook. “You kind of messed that up, wouldn’t you say? I’ve seen your fields, they’re huge.”

“Yeah. Turns out that boredom can be one hell of a motivator. Unfortunately, it gave way to ambition—way too much of it.”

“So, I’m assuming all these scribbles in your notebook are related.”

“Those scribbles are my plans for a sprinkler system." The Farmer explained. He was rambling, and rambling was good. The more he talked, the less questions Alex would ask of him. "There’s no way I’m gonna be able to maintain those fields by myself come spring, so I commissioned Robin and Clint to help me come up with a draft for one. I figured if I can get watering taken care of, maybe I’d stop feeling so exhausted halfway through the day and have more time for my animals. What I really need is more materials from the mines. I—” The Farmer paused suddenly, as if realizing something. Then he cursed under his breath and muttered. “Shit, I can’t even remember that last time I fed my animals. I’m surprised they haven’t turned on me.”

“Maybe you don’t remember because it’s just routine?” Alex offered. “If you do something every day, you don’t even have to think about it, right?”

The Farmer sighed again. “I hope so. Yoba knows Marnie wouldn’t sell me another animal if she found out I starved one of them to death.”

“So, why were you working on it up here?”

The Farmer glanced over to the mess of crumpled papers that covered the floor. Truthfully though, he was trying to not look at that small amount of space there was between their hands. He was painfully aware of it that fact. He was struck the idea of how easy it would be to just reach out and take it, lace their fingers together, and believe that everything would be fine. He sat like that for a few moments longer, until he realized he needed to quash that fantasy now. So he stood up and walked away to the nearby window and look into the darkness of the mountain that surrounded them.

“I felt like a change of scenery might be good.” The Farmer said. It wasn’t the full truth, but he hoped it would satisfy Alex’s curiosity. “I was kind of hoping that a train might pass by.”

Alex remained sitting on the floor, watching him. “Why?”

“Back in the city, my old apartment was near the train tracks. All through the night, I’d hear trains passing through, rumbling on the tracks and blowing their whistle unnecessarily at every crossing. At first I was annoyed, but eventually it became a comfort and I couldn’t sleep until I heard the whistle at least once. It helped remind me that I wasn’t the only one awake in the world at that moment. It was kind of calming.”

The Farmer wanted to stop there, but his mouth kept running. The thoughts he'd kept locked up continued to surface and they'd race off his tongue. Alex just had that effect on him. “It’s hard being alone at the farm. Pelican Town is so small, and the farm is far enough away from it and the main road that nights are completely silent if there’s no wind; it’s honestly maddening. I hate silence, and it's even worse when I've been suffering through so many sleepless nights.”

The Farmer heard Alex stand and join him at the window, but they didn't look at each other. They looked out to the black sky, where the twinkling stars were drowned out by the light cast by the spa. They may have been standing side-by-side, but The Farmer still felt as if he were miles away from Alex. 

“Do you regret it?” Alex asked. “Moving out here?”

The Farmer wrapped his arms around himself gently, suddenly feeling very chilled. “No, it’s not like I hate it. There’s just...been some days that this all feels like busy work. It's followed by days where there's not enough time do my work, and then there are days where I don't have anything to do. And...it's torture, because I feel like I need to be doing something. I have all this debt now hanging over my head, so why am I sitting around doing nothing?"

"It's not a terrible thing to give yourself a break now and then."

"I know," The Farmer sighed. "But to me the worst feeling is when I'm taking one of those breaks and it feels like I’m just existing. I’m not making the world a better place, and I’m not making it any worse. I’m just, like, there.” The Farmer gestured out to an empty space in front of himself to emphasis his point.

He continued. “I think I’ve told you I didn’t have any close friends back in the city. That’s why I could come out here so easily. I literally had nothing I was leaving behind. I thought that maybe I’d finally be able to do something. Finally make a connection with someone who I could call my best friend. Hell, even a normal friend.” He could feel the tears well up again in the corners of his eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I’m just not even wanted.”

Arms wrapped gently around The Farmer, surprising him for a second time that night. His mind had been so intently focused on his own growing anxiety that he didn’t even notice Alex had moved behind him.

“Don't say that.” Alex whispered. The Farmer could barely hear him, yet his voice sounded on the verge of breaking. In the reflection of the glass, Alex looked like the one on the cusp of his own breakdown. He'd draped his body around The Farmers, face pressed his face into the crook of The Farmer's neck as he spoke. “Please, please don't ever say you're not wanted. You, you're one of the greatest friends I could ever ask for. Come to me, or Haley, or honestly anyone in town if you feel like this again. I hate that you feel like you don't matter.”

The Farmer's bottom lip quivered, and a few more tears he didn't knew he had fell silently. He couldn't take staring at the reflection of them, and quickly turned himself into the hug to embrace Alex. It’d been so long since he’d this sort of intimate contact with another human, and Alex had been freely and frequently giving himself. It was comforting to be held like this, it helped to settle his mind.

“I’m just so scared Alex." The Farmer said.  "I'm scared that I don’t know what I’m doing, and I feel like I’m never going to live up to anyone’s expectations, least of all my own. And with this damn Joja debt hanging over my head it feels like every day that passes, the farm is all that much closer to going under. I'm struggling to keep my head above water, and hate that I feel like I'm drowning alone.”

“You’re never alone, I’m here for you.”

The Farmer pulled away and froze when he met Alex’s eyes. They stared at him so intently that electricity coursed through The Farmer's body when Alex cupped his face with his hand. His eyes went wide at the touch and his heart raced. His cheeks turned the same crimson color as ripe strawberries, and then for a single-second-eternity, when Alex got closer, his eyelids fluttered and he braced himself for a kiss.

Alex’s thumb caressed his cheek, wiping a tear from his face. Then Alex looked away and stepped back slightly, removing himself from The Farmer. He rubbed the back of his head with one hand, cheeks tinted slightly with embarrassment. “I mean, we’re all here for you. You mean a lot to everyone in town. Don’t sell yourself short, man.”

The Farmer looked down, feeling his heart crashing into the floor. Anger, directed at himself, coursed through him. What in the world was he expecting? He shouldn't feel disappointed, because he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up in the first place. “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” he said softly. 

“Hey, so sorry for hugging you like that.” Alex continued. “I don’t want you to think that I-, I mean, I wasn’t trying to take advantage, or... Uh, how do I put this?”

The Farmer looked back up at the man who was currently tripping over his own words. Alex’s face was redder than before, not surprising since he probably felt awkward with all the physical contact. In The Farmer's experience, most straight men were. "It’s okay Alex. I think I needed a hug tonight.” He flashed the biggest smile he could, feeling disgustingly like Morris, and  walked over to his bag. He started gathering up up the mess on the floor and shoveling it inside the bag unceremoniously. “What do you say we both head home? It’s so late it’s almost morning.”

Alex stood back, muttering an 'okay' as The Farmer cleaned up. The mess was tidied quickly, and then the two of them made their way downstairs. The Farmer was too tired to even question why Saber was here, asleep on top of Dusty. The dog was more than excited to see them, leaping to his paws when they walked into the entrance and sending Saber tumbling to the floor. Saber growled at first but then feigned his usual disinterest by stretching himself out several feet away before allowing The Farmer to scoop him up. Alex insisted on walking The Farmer home, so the two of them—accompanied by their animal companions—walked slowly along the mountain trail. The cold bite of the predawn air slowly gave way to a more suitable morning chill as the sky transitioned from black to red.

The walk back was quiet, the type of quiet that The Farmer didn’t mind. They fell into a bit of small talk, mostly focused on making fun of Dusty. The dog would often charge quickly ahead of them after any squirrels or rabbits that crossed the path. But then the old mutt was too scared to leave to path and would look back at Alex with a soft whimper.

“Isn’t Dusty supposed to be a hunting dog breed or something?” The Farmer asked when they’d reached the farm. The sky overhead was light blue now, dotted with small, white clouds. “Looks like all he’s been hunting lately is the food dish.”

Alex laughed and patted Dusty on the head. “Yeah, but he’s an old guy. Used to be the bravest dog I know, but now he’s afraid of his own reflection.”

“Woof?” Dusty barked with a tilt of his head.

The two men shared a laugh again, and The Farmer's heart felt a little lighter. It still hurt that he couldn't just reach out and take Alex's hand. He knew that when they reached his home he'd be left along again, forced to watch Alex walk away. Saber, was was basically asleep in his arms at this point, purred loudly. 

"So, that room looked much cleaner than before," Alex commented suddenly. "Was that your doing?" 

The Farmer exhaled, feeling a little embarrassed. "I clean when I can't sleep. My place became spotless after just two days. So when I discovered that the spa had a second floor that was just not being used, I figured I could fix it up a little and at least have a clean place to have my mental breakdowns." 

Alex frowned at the joke, but The Farmer thought it was pretty funny. 

"Well, all I remember about that place was that it was filled with dead plants and cobwebs, so you've done a pretty amazing job. It almost reminds me of those secret bases I'd try to built all over the place, only a thousand times cooler."

The Farmer snorted. "You built 'secret bases?'" 

"What kid didn't?" Alex jabbed back.  "I was always stealing my grandpas nails and tools and trying to build my own forts out in the woods or down by the beach. Heck, there was even one I made in the loft of a-ouch!" 

Alex stopped suddenly, a hand shooting to his head. The Farmer rushed over, one hand on Alex's shoulder, while he used the other to drop Saber on the ground. "Alex, what's wrong?" 

The other man hissed in pain, his eyes screwed shut. "It's nothing," Alex assured him. "My headache just sort of suddenly got worse." His eyes fluttered open, and for a moment The Farmer could swear there was a purple light that flashed behind them. Then he blinked, and it was gone. 

He wrote the flash off as a trick of the morning light, putting his concern for Alex first. He didn't recall the man every mentioning headache earlier, but the night had mostly been focused on The Farmer's well-being. "Are you sure you're okay? Sudden head pain could mean you need to be looked at by Harvey right away."

"It's fine," Alex waved him off. "Truth be told, I had a headache all night, and I guess lack of sleep is just getting to me." 

The Farmer frowned at him. "Well, if you insist...Just drink some water and get some sleep." 

Alex snorted, "I think I should be the one saying that to you at this point."  

They weren't far from the edge of the farm at this point, and soon the sun did rise above the tree line. The two of them walked onto the farm before they paused in front of the farmhouse and mailbox. The Farmer stretched his arms high over his head, feeling the chill of the air touch the skin on his stomach that he exposed. “Well I supposed it’s time to get started on today's work.”

“Wait, what?” Alex’s eyes snapped up, having been looking down at something. “You’re actually going to work after the night you just had?”

The Farmer shrugged. “I mean, yeah? It doesn’t matter how tired I am. The animals need to be fed and the crops watered.”

Alex frowned at him. In the next second, Alex had stepped forward and scooped The Farmer into his arms bridal-style and was marking up the stairs of the porch. 

“A-Alex?” The Farmer stammered, feeling his face flush as Alex pushed open the front door and he was forced to hold onto the man's shirt to steady himself.  

“The only thing you’re doing is climbing into bed and getting some rest." Alex chided him. The Farmer couldn't fight the man as he was brought to his bedroom and placed gently on he bed. Alex placed his hands on his hips and frowned down at him.  "Look at yourself, you’re gonna collapse any second.”

“But my farm-”

“Can take a day without you.” Alex interrupted. “I still remember enough from this summer to be able to take care of the basics.”

“But how about I just-”

Alex leaned forward, a stern frown etched into his face. “Bed. Now.”

As if Alex had spoken a spell, exhaustion struck The Farmer over the head like a bat. His eyelids grew unbearably heavy as the comfort of the mattress called out to him. The Farmer held up his hands in defeat. “Fine, but you’re doing this without supervision. So, if you damage anything, you’re gonna owe me a week’s worth of free labor.”

Alex flashed his trademark grin. “Please, I’ve got this farming stuff in the bag.”

With that, Alex gave a little wink and walked out, closing the door behind himself. The Farmer sat there for a few moments before slowly rising to his feet. It was true, he wanted to wrap himself up in his comforter and just sleep for the next ten hours, but he was drawn to the bedroom window. Outside, the morning sun dappled Alex's brown hair with streaks of golden light. The Farmer watched Alex for a few moments longer, marching off to the chicken coop with Dusty trotting along behind him, before flicking the blinds closed. He dropped facedown onto his bed, letting the pillows consume him, and his anxiety-ridden brain melt away. 

It was near dinner time, and Alex was sneaking back onto the farm with a package in his hands. He felt stupid sneaking back, but what if the Farmer was still asleep? There didn’t appear to be any lights on in the farmhouse, and the only movement he could see on the farm belonged to the crops moving in the occasional gust of wind.

Alex made his way up to the front door, and knocked lightly, “Hey, Farmer?” There was no answer, and when he tried the handle, it opened slightly. 

“Meow.”

Alex jumped, Saber had materialized to his right. The orange cat sat on his haunches, peering up at Alex and the package in the human’s hands.

“Holy Yoba. You scared me half to death.” Alex said, hand on his chest to still his beating heart as he looked down to the cat. The only apologize the cat offered up was by blinking at Alex, so he continued. “But keep it down, I think The Farmer’s still sleeping.”

“Meow?”

“Oh this?” Alex knelt down and let Saber sniff the box. “It’s some food my grandma taught me to make. Some homemade food always does wonders to perk someone up, and I thought The Farmer could use some perking up.”

Saber flicked his tail, then turned and trotted away.

“I wonder if that means he approves…” Alex mused. He quickly rid his thoughts of Saber and instead slowly opened the front door. Every curtain was drawn to make the house as dark as possible, and the only noise was the gentle hum of the kitchen appliances. Thinking The Farmer must still be asleep, Alex tip-toed his way over to the fridge, placing the food inside. He pulled out the note he'd written beforehand and went to drop it on the kitchen table. He was just about ready to leave, and then…

“Alex.”

The man froze. He looked around but didn’t see anyone. He thought he'd been caught, but he was still alone. He did notice that the door to The Farmer's bedroom was open,  and every second that passed fueled Alex’s curiosity. Against what Alex assumed was his better judgement, he made his way over to the bedroom and peered inside.

Sure enough, The Farmer was asleep. Something about this scene compelled Alex forward. He knew he was invading the other man’s privacy, but looking down at The Farmer, all curled up and cuddling a pillow, just struck Alex as too cute to resist. Alex knelt at the side of the bed, starting at The Farmer. The Farmer was mumbling in his sleep, and Alex found it hard to resist the temptation to not slide into bed next to him.

Instead, Alex reached out, gently pushing aside The Farmer’s bangs and stroking the man's face. He didn’t know what drove him to do it, but it felt right. His insides buzzed excitedly, and he could feel his heart beating excitedly against his ribs. When he pulled back, his eyes fell upon the scar. Like every other time he’d seen it, he got the feeling that it was familiar in some way.

The Farmer stirred, and Alex jump up as quietly as possible. Thankfully, the other man didn’t open his eyes but pulled the pillow he was currently cuddling closer to his body. Alex let his gaze linger on The Farmer a few moments longer, trying to not be jealous of a pillow, before making his way outside. 

There was a small bounce to his step as he walked home.

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 24th

“It’s too early for this crap,” George muttered angrily to himself. He smoothed out the creases in the blanket that sat over his lap and pulled his more tightly around himself. Then to his wife, he said, “Why couldn’t I have just stayed home? It’s too cold outside.”

“Oh hush,” Evelyn chided. She pushed his wheelchair up the dirt path that lead to The Farmer’s place. Alex walked next to her, hands stuffed in his pockets and a small smile on his face as he listened to his grandparents. “If you keep complaining like that, everyone will think you’re just a cranky old badger.”

George scoffed. “Please, everyone already thinks that.”

Alex snorted, looking away from his grandfather’s glare. It was a brisk, but pleasant afternoon with a sun shining down from a cloudless sky. Dusty trotted alongside the three humans for the most part, but occasionally would forget about his new leash and charge after something that spooked him from the underbrush. George demanded that the ‘crazy old mut’ needed to be on a leash after last night’s incident of waking the entire village.

“Alex!” The Mullner's paused briefly as Emily and Haley ran up the path towards them. Haley had been the one that called out. “So, Mr. Gridball star, you got any idea what this is all about?”

Alex shrugged. “No, not really. The Farmer just showed up at my house last night and told us to come to his place around noon.”

“Hmm,” Haley eyed him up and down, then said more quietly. “I’d have assumed he’d tell you, at the very least.”

Alex’s face heated up. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Alex had been both surprised and embarrassed when The Farmer first showed up at his doorstep only an hour after he’d broken into The Farmer’s place. At first, Alex thought the other man was here to confront him; did The Farmer know what Alex had done? Had he actually been awake? Was he here to tell him off? As Alex’s mind was plagued by these rapid-fire questions, his body had gone on autopilot and he simply nodded yes to the invitation.

“He told us the same,” Emily mused, placing a finger on her chin and looking up. “He also told us not to eat before coming. I can only imagine that means we’re in store for something delicious.” Then to Dusty she said, “Are you excited for some yummy food?”

Dusty barked happily, wagging his tail.

George made a sound that was something halfway between an annoyed snort and angry burp. “If he’s going to feed us, he should have just given us the food. It’s cold, it’s windy, and my joints are aching. It’ll probably rain on us and ruin everything.”

Evelyn sighed. “Oh, you’re just grouchy because it’s—”

“I am not,” George snapped. He crossed his arms and looked over at the tree line, not saying another word.

The group continued onward while the other four continued making small talk. Evelyn asked if Haley and Emily the usual questions; were doing okay, if they were eating enough, and when their parents were coming back. Emily kept including Dusty in the conversation, and the old dog would always happily bark in response as if he could understand them.

When they eventually reached the crest of the hill, the farm spread out before them with half of Pelican Town's residents already gathered. Most were sitting around some bonfire pits near the house on makeshift chairs, made from large wooden logs, taken from The Farmer’s woodpile, or large rocks that looked like they'd been rolled into place. Each fire had various cooking utensils sitting around them; ranging from traditional hot dog roasters, to aluminum frying pots, to some sort of contraption that looked like two cookie sheets duct taped to an oversized pair of tongs. There was a fold-up table in front of the farmhouse, set with utensils and large drink dispensers filled with fruits and liquid. Marnie stood nearest the table, directing Marlon and Pierre who were bringing things in and out of the farmhouse while also scribbling labels onto notecards and taping them to the table.

Standing near the end of the path were Penny and Jas. Penny was dressed in her usual garb, but Jas was all dressed up in a yellow and white dress. When she saw the group approach, she pointed excitedly towards them while tugging on Penny’s skirt. 

“He’s here, he’s here!” Jas whispered, loud enough for the group to hear.

“Shhh,” Penny knelt down to whisper into Jas’ ear. “Don’t ruin the surprise. Do you remember what we practiced?”

Jas nodded vigorously and Penny stood up. When Alex’s group stood in front of her, Jas curtseyed to them. “Welcome to Mr. Farmer’s farm. My name’s Jas, can you follow me please?”

“Oh, just like a professional waitress, how cute!” Emily clasped her hands together, smiling at Jas. “If you need any tips, just ask me, okay?”

Jas beamed up her. “Don’t worry Miss Emily, I practiced all day with Vincent and his mommy.”

Jas and Penny lead them towards the campfire closest to the farmhouse. As everyone settled down on their stumps, Evelyn spoke to Jas. “Well now aren’t you just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Did Marnie help you pick out that dress?”

Jas nodded and smiled. “My aunt said that I needed to look nice today.”

“And you most certainly do,” Evelyn tenderly pinched Jas’ cheek, much in the way that grandmothers do.

George huffed his trademark huff, looking around. Then, Alex noticed a small twinkle in his grandfather's eye. It was followed by a mischievous grin, right before he turned to Jas and said, “So tell me, is Vincent all dressed up too? Where is he?”

Jas looked around, then pointed over towards another bonfire, but this one hadn’t been lit yet. Vincent stood next to it, fumbling with a lighter he found somewhere. "There he is." 

“Vincent no!” Penny shrieked and then ran off to save the child from barbecuing himself.

“So, Jas,” George said quickly after Penny was gone. “Can you tell me what this is all about?”

Jas looked down at her feet and shrugged. She played with the hem of her dress, looking up and down at George as she talked. “They won’t tell me. My auntie and The Farmer were talking real late last night. Mr. Pierre even came over for a while. The Farmer says it’s a very special surprise and he didn’t want anyone to spoil it.”

“Is that so?” George grumbled. He scanned the farm, drumming his fingers in his lap. “I don’t like surprises. I want to go home. Eve, take me home.” 

“Oh nonsense.” Evelyn spoke with a faint sing-song-like tone to her voice. She moved faster than Alex had ever seen his grandmother move before, engaging the brakes on George’s wheelchair. “This will be fun!”

George’s face went white. “Wait.. You’re in on this, ain’t ya!”

“Oh, course I am.” Evelyn chuckled. She patted Jas’ shoulders and began directing her away from their pit. “Now Jas, it looks like there’s some more people to escort. Here, I’ll help you since Ms. Penny’s still chasing Vincent around. Alex, make sure your grandfather doesn’t run off!”

“Dammit woman, you know I can’t run!” George yelled shaking his fist after her.

Haley leaned into Alex and whispered. “What’s that all about?”

Alex shrugged. “I guess my grandma’s one of The Farmer’s conspirators.”

Alex kept looking around. It appeared that Robin and her family were also involved somehow; Alex spotted her entire family—minus Sebastian, who was smoking a cigarette at another tree stump circle with his friends—working on something inside the cabin through one of the windows. Mayor Lewis seemed to be nursing a beer can at his own circle, alone with a half-scared and half-worried looking Linus, casting forlorn glances at the reception table where Marnie stood. Marine didn't pay the mayor any mind, too caught up in her own work. Once, when she was reaching for a pen that Marlon was also reaching for, their hands brushed against each other. A very obvious blush filled their cheeks as they looked at each other and smiled. 

Lewis took a drink.

Fifteen minutes passed of George grumbling to Haley and Emily's attempts at small talk. Soon, everyone from town had gathered. They all looked equally excited but mostly clueless as to why they had been invited. Alex had heard several theories flying about, but the most common one was that they were getting free food. Emily had eventually managed to trap George in a conversation during this time; it was something about the healing properties of gemstones dressed in bird feathers and she was particularly vocal about the negative energies an emerald and robin feather gave off. Meanwhile, Haley was still staring at Alex.

“What are you looking for?” She asked.

“The Farmer.” Alex respond so quickly that he didn’t even need to look back at her to know Haley was giving him the Look™. “I mean, he’s hosting whatever this event is. I’m surprised I haven’t seen him yet.”

“Well he’s probably busy. You know how he is; he insists on doing everything himself.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m worried.” Alex looked over at Haley, who had cocked and eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Nothing…” Haley looked Alex up and down. “It’s just that, did something happen between you two that you’re not telling me?”

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but the thought of his encounter with the Farmer last night stopped him and put a rosy blush on his face. He quickly looked away while debating what was appropriate to say. He doubted The Farmer would appreciate Haley knowing about his mental breakdown.

“Alex!” She gasped, not missing that blush. Then in a lower voice, “Are you holding out on me? Boy, dish the deets!”

“It’s nothing!” Alex said a little too quickly and a little too high pitched. His eyes quickly darted to his grandfather and was thankful that Emily was distracting him. Sharing the details of his love life with the grandpa was not something he'd mentally prepared himself for today. "I mean, well, nothing. I swear, nothing happened." 

“Don’t you ‘it’s nothing’ me Alex. You’re blushing! What happened?”

A high-pitched whistle saved Alex from having to come up with an answer. The sound garnered everyone’s attention, and heads swiveled to turn towards it. The Farmer had finally made his appearance, having leapt upon a stump that the bonfires were centered around. His eyes made a quick scan of the crowd and when they fell on Alex, The Farmer flashed a smile that made Alex’s heart melt. It was a genuine happy-to-see-you smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle up ever so slightly. It came and went quickly—maybe it had only lasted a millisecond—but in that moment, Alex knew that smile was meant for him and him alone. Something special that Alex felt he needed to see every day for the rest of his life.

The Farmer turned to face the center of the crowd, clapping his hands together. “So I'll admit it! I really don’t know how to start this thing off. I know this was super last minute and I was very vague on the details, but I suppose I should thank you all for coming!”

“Vague?” Pam called back with a laugh. “You mean transparent right? Your instructions told us to show up at noon and to not eat lunch beforehand. I’m ready for you to treat me to some free grub!”

“Don’t be so selfish Pam,” Carroll called back jokingly. “It’s not like this is a festival.”

“Any time I don’t have to cook for Pam means it’s a festival for me!” Gus yelled, roaring with laughter.

Many others joined Gus’ amusement. As it died down, Robin and everyone else that had been working on something in The Farmer’s home filed out and took their places around the bonfires. Evelyn returned wearing a knowing smile and humming softly to herself. Marnie and Pierre, however, flanked The Farmer on either side.

The Farmer continued. “As Pam and probably many of you have already guessed, yes, I will be feeding ya’ll for free this afternoon.” He was met with a short applause, causing the Farmer to laugh. “Why you ask? Excellent question Linus!”

There were a few more laughs when Linus jumped at the sound of his name, looking around wildly as if mentally securing his quickest route of escape.

“The reason why I decided to invite you all over is because with winter officially less than a week away, my first year as Pelican Town’s resident farmer is over. And to celebrate, I wanted to throw everyone a thank you party and prove that I’m actually growing some decent food out here.”

“Ah, you don’t have to do that.” Demetrius said.

“I get his food!” Several people cried in unison, including his wife.

“I never said I wasn’t going to eat!” Demetrius said with a slight blush of embarrassment.

The Farmer smiled and let the laughter die down slightly. “I know I don’t have to, but I want to. This last year was a huge change for me, I’ve been through a lot. There were ups and downs, plenty of fun at the festivals, and probably one too many trips to Harvey’s clinic. But more than anything, there were my neighbors of Pelican Town.”

The Farmer’s expression sobered a bit. “It hasn’t even been a full year that I’ve lived here, yet it feels like I’ve known all of you for my entire life. Moving in was like coming back to family after a long vacation. We help each other out, exchange gifts or send our favorite recipes through the mail just because we feel like it, and sometimes we squabble amongst ourselves. Each and every one of us is unique and different, but even when those differences clash, we can all still live together happily.”

Alex felt his heart still. The Farmer had looked directly at him when he spoke those last words. The words were echoed from their conversation after the hurricane. Hearing The Farmer say them now, eyes trained directly on Alex, it felt as if they were the only two people on the farm. Only the slight sniffles from Haley and Emily reminded him that they weren’t alone.

“Ah, enough of this emotional stuff!” Pierre stepped forward, wiping a tear from his eye. “Let’s go ahead and start this thank you party.”

“The Farmer’s thanking us,” Sam called up. “Why are you two up there?”

“That’s because we have a hidden agenda to this party,” Pierre said with a twinkle in his eye. "Last night, The Farmer rounded up Marnie and me and we all got to discussing. The Stardew Valley Fair was an excellent time to show off our stock, but we’re always drowned beneath all those out of towners. How exactly are we supposed to compete with Reverse Sushi? They were a newcomer this year and that made it feel like a real slap in the face when they ended up making the most profits.”

Pierre chuckled to himself and Abigail groaned and booed him loudly from her bonfire.

Marnie stepped forward. “So, we all decided we needed to host our own event. Something that can really bring our little community together and lets business owners such as ourselves truly show off our products. And what better way is there than by having you taste them?”

“We and our families worked all night,” Pierre said. “We pooled our resources and shared our kitchens in order to show off both our cooking skills and highlight the deliciousness of local foods in this impromptu potluck!”

“My ranch brought the meats and dairies,” Marnie said.

“I will be providing the greatest corn on the cob and other veggies any of you will ever taste!” The Farmer added.

“And I provided everything else.” Pierre finished.

“But you’re not even a farmer, dad!” Abigail shouted.

Most everyone laughed, to which Pierre frowned. “I-I’ll have you know that I used my connections to get the dishes, condiments, and cookware for dirt cheap!”

Marnie stepped over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him while also trying to hide her own smile. “It’s okay Pierre. We understand that you have made a very important contribution to our day.” Then to the other man, “Mr. Farmer, why don’t you enlighten everyone as to the second item on our hidden agenda?”

“Ah yes,” The Farmer smiled widely, drawing out his words. As he spoke, Jas, Vincent, and Penny all stood up quickly and dashed into The Farmers house. “Now, my memory seems to be a little bit hazy. I think it had something to do with the recent festival. Let me think, let me think…” The Farmer rubbed his chin as he thought. The whole thing felt like he was putting on a performance.

Then suddenly, he snapped his fingers and looked over at Alex’s bonfire. “Ah, that’s right! The Wizard’s friend, The Fortune Teller, told me a secret. She told me that there just so happens to be a very special birthday boy in attendance today~.”

Alex heard his grandfather make a sound halfway between a panicked snort and desperate cry. “No, no, no!” George said quickly, reaching to disengaged the break on his wheelchair. But his wife already beat him to it.

Evelyn tenderly held George’s hand in her own and smiled down at him. “I told you honey; this is for your own good.”

Under Penny’s supervision, Jas and Vincent emerged from the house, carrying a large homemade cake down the steps and directly towards George. It was covered in far too many candles and Vincent had a small amount of frosting on the end of his nose. During the procession of the cake, The Farmer began to lead everyone in an off-key, albeit joyful, rendition of ‘Happy Birthday,’ conducting the townsfolk from his perch on the log. Pierre and Marnie quickly set an appropriately sized log down in front of him, and after the cake had been balanced upon it, the candles were lit.

George had one arm brought up to his eyes, using his sleeve to wipe away any tears that formed in his eyes. When the song finished, The Farmer turned to George beaming. “Happy Surprise Birthday Party! Now make a wish and blow out your candles.”

When George finished drying his eyes, he scowled up at The Farmer before blowing out his candles. “I guess this is okay,” he said, trying and failing to sound like he wasn’t choked up. “But I hate surprises. Do this again and I’ll have Alex knock your socks off!”

“I think I might just be able to take a beating from Alex.” The Farmer’s eyes meet Alex’s and he flashed a quick wink. Alex’s heart fluttered in his chest and he faintly heard Haley utter an ‘Oh my.’

Evelyn touched George’s shoulder gently and whispered into his ear, “There, now showing some emotion wasn’t so bad, was it?”

George took her hand, murmuring only so she could hear. “I suppose not.”

“Alright everyone,” The Farmer called out again. “Now before we dig into our desert, I believe we’ve promised you all something else. The moment you’ve all been waiting for! It’s time to eat!”

A few people cheered at the proclamation. Pam however, was looking around. “Well Farmer,” she said, “Where is it?”

“Out there!” The Farmer gestured out to his fields.

There was a brief silence, filled only by the wind rolling over the farm.

A rosy tint touched at The Farmer’s cheeks as every set of eyes from the village turned on him with a questioning look. Stepping in to save him, Marnie moved beside him and addressed everyone instead. “What I think he means to say,” she started, “Is that we’re all going to do a little prep work. The best tasting food is always the food that you have to work for.”

“Y-Yeah!” The Farmer chimed in again with his confidence only slightly shaken. “My grandpa always said that if you want the best tasting corn, you’re not to pick it until the water’s boiling. But there’s plenty of other ways to cook corn too, so Jas, Vincent, and Penny will be passing out pamphlets with suggestions on different ways to cook everything. Feel free to show off your own recipes too! Marnie and Pierre will be bringing out the meats, drinks, and condiments and I’ll show everyone where to find the vegetables out in the fields!”

The party was admittedly a little rough starting out. The Farmer rushed about the farm, assisting his neighbors with their food acquisition and prep—showing them the best way to peel the corn or how to correctly add wood to the bonfire so the flame wouldn’t get smothered. Pierre poured ice and then water into the drink dispensers filled with fruit;  Jas and Vincent were excitedly distracted as the liquid changed colors when the water was added. Marnie set the folding tables with trays piled high with various cuts of chicken, pork, and beef. She sternly reminded everyone as they came up that, ‘No matter what a few people on the internet said, there’s no such thing as medium-rare chicken. I won’t be held responsible if you eat undercooked chicken and get salmonella.’

Alex watched The Farmer with fascination probably a little too closely, because Haley’s elbow jabbed him in his side.

“Don’t just gawk at him Alex,” she hissed after The Farmer walked away from showing them how to set up the iron grill over the fire. “Offer to help him.”

“But he looks so busy, what if he just gets annoyed?”

“Exactly!” Haley groaned. “If he looks busy, you’ll probably take a little of the stress off by helping him. Ugh, this is why boys are useless.” She said the last part more to herself, then walked off with Emily towards the corn stalks.

Alex watched her go, the unease burrowing into his skin. The Farmer looked like he was doing alright. But at the same time, the second he got finished helping one person there was another three waiting for him. When The Farmer finished helping Sam set up his cooking site and bounded off towards Caroline and Abigail who were calling for help, Alex digested the butterflies in his stomach and deftly stopped The Farmer by grabbing his shoulder.

“Hey.” Alex said. He immediately wanted to be taken out by a stray meteorite. Who the hell has an opening line that’s just ‘Hey?’ His stomach did little flips as he fought with his own brain, telling it to stop admiring The Farmer’s eyes and just say something already. “You look kinda busy doing this all by yourself. Want some help?”

A big grin spread across The Farmer’s face, one that almost made Alex’s knees buckle. “Sure! Come on, I’ll show you what you can do.”

Another call from Abigail drew The Farmer’s attention, and he told Alex to follow him. As the two went around helping the other villagers set up their cooking sites, Alex quickly learned that it wasn’t just The Farmer that wanted to show off his crops. It turned out that everyone in the village had their own special recipe that they wanted to brag about.

Jodi had one large boiling pot filled with cranberries, grapes, sugar, and a pinch of salt while the other had slices of chicken boiling in it. She called the berry mixture a cranberry-grape compote, and when she drizzled it over the chicken, Alex went weak in the knees and almost collapsed. At The Farmer’s suggestion, she added some maple syrup he’d tapped and a few chopped hazelnuts to the boiling chicken. The addition made everyone who tried it look like they were having a blissful out-of-body experience.

The scent emanating from Caroline and Abigail’s pot was spicy enough that it made Alex nose was shrivel up from the smell alone, but his stomach pulled him towards it regardless. They had a large five-gallon pot, the largest one at the farm, filled with a boiling red liquid. They looked like two witches standing over their cauldron as it bubbled. Abigail was chopping up and tossing in various vegetables at her mother’s request—mushrooms, bok choy, artichoke hearts, and onions to name a few—while Caroline carefully stirred the pot and added in seasonings whenever she deemed fit. Alex never imagined that those mushrooms he saw grow all over town this time of year could ever be made into something that danced across his tongue.  When Willy got a taste of the Hot Pot, he gave a whoop of joy and—after getting Caroline’s permission—added some slices of fish to it. The dancing soup in Alex’s mouth was suddenly crashed by a DJ Fish that transformed the dance into an all-out rave.

Even Gus, who seemed like he wanted to just sit back and relax, got caught up in the excitement of everyone sharing their signature recipes. He had claimed one of the folding tables for his own and had begun slicing and dicing meats and vegetables at an astounding pace. Vincent and Jas watched in wonder as Gus cooked, and the mustached man began to put on a show for them after a little while; he’d toss an onion in the air and slice it in half before it hit the table and would juggle some of his diced ingredients with his knives before stuffing them all into a hollowed out pumpkin. Soon Vincent and Jas weren’t the only ones watching, and Emily took it upon herself to add commentary while he cooked. She made up stories about the ingredients, claiming that the pumpkins were gathered by a faraway hero whose goal in life was to avenge his parents and then succeed in restarting their pumpkin farm. 

Soon everyone was clapping and cheering Gus on. He ate up the attention, performing and posing more as he cooked, his grin wide and toothy. Harvey had been recruited to run pumpkins to the fire pit once they had been fully stuffed and pulled them out when Gus declared them done. When the lids were pulled off the pumpkins, there was a juicy stuffing of meats and veggies inside that made Alex’s mouth water just at the sight of it. It wasn’t until he finally got to taste some that he realized how rich pumpkin could be; the eggplants and onions inside were infused with so much juice that their texture felt just like the perfect cut of steak.

But what easily sparked the most debate among everyone was the corn.

“Holy shit!” Sam cried out after having his first bite of boiled corn.

“Language, young man!” Jodi yelled at him from across the farm, covering Vincent's ears.

“Hey Farmer!” Sam ignored his mother. “What kind of corn is this? Do you have like super special sugar seeds or something? This is so sweet!”

The Farmer beamed. He put his hands on his hips and stuck out his chest. “Nope! That’s just the magic of fresh corn. You don’t even need to add and butter or anything.”

“That’s because the sugars in vegetables start breaking down as soon as you pick it,” Maru said, chowing down on her own corn cob. “This way it can still taste great without needing to add any special seasoning.”

A chuckle of laughter came from behind them, and the group turned to Shane, who had corn boiling in his own small pot over the fire. “You may not need to add any special seasoning, but when you do it’s even better.” He used a pair of tongs to pulled out an ear of corn, then broke it in half and offered them to Sam and Maru. The yellow kernels of the corn looked darker than usual, and there were red flakes all over it.

The second Sam bit into it, a squeal erupted from his mouth. “What is this!?”

Now Shane looked just as proud as The Farmer. Which was honestly the most surprising thing to Alex today. Shane only ever showed he had two emotions; drunk and grumpy.

“It’s beer-boiled corn.” Shane proclaimed proudly. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex spotted Pam’s head shoot up from where she was enjoying one of Gus’ stuffed pumpkins and her eyes zeroed in on Shane’s pot. Shane continued, not noticing Pam racing over. “All you gotta do is boil some beer and throw in Old Bay seasoning and lime wedges and you’ve got yourself the best ear of corn you’ve ever eaten.”

More haughty laughter came from the next fire pit over. Leah, who was slowly rotating peeled corn over an open flame, smirked at Shane. “You claim that’s the best corn recipe you know?” She stood up slowly, grinning from ear to ear. She cocked her head slightly to the side and brought hand to her mouth to cover her smile. “How cute.”

A vein on Shane’s forehead bludged and his eyebrow twitched. “You think you can do better?”

Leah reached down and picked up a bottle of soy sauce she had sitting next to the fire and splashed the mixture over her roasting corn. She held the cob out to Shane, “Why don’t you try it for yourself?”

Shane eyed the corn for a moment, swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat. He took it with a huff. “I doubt a little bit of soy sauce can do as much as my seasonings.” But Alex noticed Shane had a small bit of drool escaping his mouth as he said it. Shane hesitated for a moment but then bit into the cob. His eyes opened as wide as humanly possible, and his body went very still. Alex thought something had gone very wrong, but then Shane fell to his knees and began crying.

“It’s delicious!” Shane cried out, continuing to devour the corn as he sobbed.

Everyone laughed, and more people began to step up, each offering other their own take on different ways to cook corn. Demetrius insisted that you steam and salt the corn while Harvey said you needed to grill the corn before you even husk it. Penny produced a delicious recipe for something called Mexican corn she’d read about in a book and Elliot surprised everyone by coming up with something that involved far too much parmesan cheese.

The Farmer was grinning from ear to ear, and Alex couldn’t stop staring. Everything from his eyes to his voice positively glowed in the afternoon light. The Farmer laughed at something Sam said, but Alex was too distracted to listen to what the conversation even was. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the man next to him. The only thing on his mind right now was the thought of how badly he wants to be closer to him. Even to just lean against him so their shoulders were brushing again, just like that night so many weeks ago when they watched the fireflies in this very field.

“What is it Alex?”

Alex was snapped out of his daydream by The Farmer’s voice. The other man was looking directly at him, and Alex realized the reason for it was because he had unconsciously reached out for him. His hand rested at The Farmer’s elbow, gently tugging at the fabric of his shirt. Brief panic took over his mind for a moment, but his subconscious desires fought their way to the surface and he said his next words without really thinking. “Can I have a moment alone with you?”

There was a flash of emotion that crossed The Farmer’s face, but it was gone before Alex could completely registered it. “Sure,” The Farmer answered with a smile. He rubbed the back of his head when he replied. “Unfortunately, my front yard is host to a party for all of Pelican Town. I’m not sure where we’ll get some alone time.”

“Maybe we could go inside to your room?”

Alex felt all the blood rush to his face as he realized his suggestion. He asked to be alone, with The Farmer, in his bedroom. Confusion, fear, and excitement all rushed through his brain right now. It’s not like he hadn’t been in there before. But last time he was in there he’d done something he probably shouldn’t have. And he wasn’t sure if he could stop himself from letting his true feelings be known if they were alone.

The other’s man’s face was unreadable; like a smooth stone on the beach that had all of its edges eroded by the tides. He broke eye contact, and then, in a very quiet, very small voice, The Farmer replied.

“Sure.”

Alex’s heart stopped. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the other man. He could have sworn the tips of the man’s ears were red. While his brain screeched ‘WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!?’ inside his skull, Alex obediently followed The Farmer back to his cottage. Out of the corner of his eye, he registered Haley’s shocked expression, who was slack-jawed and halfway through eating an ear of corn. Crap, when did she join the corn debate? Did she hear? What did she think they were doing? Should he reach out and take The Farmer’s hand? He really wanted to hold his hand right now.

“Hey Farmer!” Sam yelled after them. Both men frozen when the blond called out, but Sam was unaware that his own fate had already been sealed. Haley, eyes razor focused and gleaming like a mountain lion about to pounce on her prey, closed the gap between herself and Sam in less than a second. She threw her arm around his neck, violently forcing him to turn the other way. 

“Oh Sam!” She laughed loudly and a little too forcefully. “Can you believe that we’ve lived next to each other for all these years and have barely spoken to one another? Let’s catch up! How are you?”

“C-Can’t, b-bre-breathe,” Sam wheezed. His fingers clutched at Haley's bicep, desperately prying at it to release himself, but could gain no leverage on the woman.

Penny was by their side in the next moment. “Oh Sam, you haven’t tasted my corn yet,” she said quickly. She shoved an entire ear of corn into Sam’s mouth like a pacifier. “You have to tell me what you think of it.”

Seizing their chance, the two men rushed off before anyone else could try and catch their attention. While Haley strong arming a choking Sam back towards the firepits taking part in The Great Corn Debate, she noticed that Penny had cast a backwards glance at the two retreating men.

“What are you doing?” Haley asked her.

Penny startled slightly, looking quickly towards Haley. “What? I’m not doing anything?”

Haley narrowed her eyes at Penny, not noticing Sam go limp under her arm. “Do you know something?”

Penny narrowed her eyes at Haley. “What do you mean? Do you know something?”

“Um, ladies?” Abigail interrupted. She pointed down at Sam. “I’m sure whatever you’re punishing him for, he deserves it, but you might wanna let go before he passes out.”

Haley looked down, realizing she still had Sam in a chokehold. She dropped him quickly, and Sam took a deep and choking breath for air. While he suffered on the ground, Sam quietly sobbed, “W-What did I do?”

“Ah, pardon the mess.” The Farmer said sheepishly as he led Alex through his living space and kitchen. The house looked like a war zone, with boxes of supplies and wrappings thrown about--evidence that it had been a rush to unpack everything. He opened the door to his bedroom and stepped inside. Alex hesitated for a moment, then chided himself. What was he, a dumb teenager? He shouldn’t be feeling nervous about being alone with another man. In his bedroom. The bedroom of the man he most definitely felt attracted to. Nope, this was just totally another thing that other guys did all the time.

Except, he was nervous. Alex could feel his pulse pounding against his eardrums when he crossed the threshold into the room. He’d never even felt this nervous around Haley, back when they kind of dated in high school, and he’d spent a lot of time alone with her.

The blinds were pulled down over the window, but slanted down to dimly allow sunlight the room. The Farmer hadn’t flipped the light switch when he entered. Instead, the other man was hastily trying to put together his bed as nonchalant as he could. Last time Alex had been in here, he hadn’t noticed it, but there was a distinct lack of personal items. The Farmer had finally gotten was a small dresser, topped with a few books and a lamp next to the bed, and then a there was trunk next to that. A small pile of clothes sat in one corner of the room, the amount of cat hair covering it betrayed it as Saber’s make-shift bed, but there wasn’t really anything else in here. He remembered what The Farmer said last night, about spending sleepless nights in this room. It wasn’t hard to imagine going crazy when you’re surrounded by nothing all night.

The Farmer finished making the bed up, which is what brought Alex’s mind back. He closed the door behind himself and just stood there. The Farmer had taken a seat at the edge of the bed and was looking at him expectantly.

The Farmer spoke up when their eyes met. “Just so you know, if you say you wanna talk and then wait a long time to say anything, I’m just gonna take that as a bad sign.” The Farmer half-laughed. Alex caught wind of the nervousness behind The Farmer's words. Should he take the nervousness as a bad sign?

“Why don’t you sit down?”

“You look amazing,” Alex blurted out. The Farmer’s face went red, and Alex fumbled over his words. “I-I mean you, I mean that you look like you’re doing more, I mean better than yesterday. You look more like you did during the summer.”

“Thanks,” The Farmer gave a solemn smile, his eyes cast towards the ground. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to overburden you with all that.”

Alex frowned. “You don’t have to apologize for that. I’m...glad I was there.”

The Farmer looked up at him, and when their eyes met again, Alex felt like the room was on fire. It was almost as though The Farmer himself was a living fire, with his flames getting hotter and wilder every second. It he sapped all the oxygen from Alex's lungs just by being near. Alex felt suddenly self-conscious about everything. Was he breathing too fast or too heavy? What was considered normal breathing? Would The Farmer know what normal breathing was?

The Farmer broke eye contact first. He ran his right hand through his hair, gaze flickering around the room. “So, ah, you wanted to ask me something?”

Alex nodded and then awkwardly realized he still standing at the door. He walked over to the bed and sat next to the other man, hands on the edge of the mattress. They were no more than a few inches from one another, and Alex could feel the other man’s body heat radiating off him. When they locked eyes again, dear Yoba, Alex wanted to throw himself into the fire.

He forced himself to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat and asked the question that had been nagging him all day. “Will you be alright with this party?”

The Farmer frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

Alex looked at his feet, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to be a downer, but...can you afford to do this? From what you told me last night, about Joja and your debts…”

A silence hung in the air between them for a moment, and Alex was afraid he’d said too much or overstepped his boundaries. The room felt suddenly cold, and just when he'd regretted his words, he felt the warmth of The Farmer's hand as it enveloped Alex’s. Alex’s eyes snapped to it, and then up to The Farmer’s face. The Farmer was not meeting his gaze, but he wore a soft smile and a rosy blush filled his cheeks. He gave Alex’s hand a small squeeze and then leaned against him, resting his head on Alex’s shoulder. Electricity shot up his spine, and Alex could no longer tell if he was still breathing. All he could focus on was this new feeling of The Farmer holding his hand and their bodies pressing together. 

“Thank you for the concern Alex,” The Farmer said. “But... I’ll be okay. This was my idea, and I asked for Marnie and Pierre’s help to make sure I wouldn’t take the cost on myself. And besides... I really wanted to say thank you to everyone. You inspired me to.”

“M-Me?” Alex found it hard to focus on the conversation; his brain was currently in a stalemate with itself. One half wanted to just pull The Farmer into his lap and hold him so tightly that he’d forget about all of his problems. The other half knew he needed to listen to The Farmer, hear him out and support him. 

“Yeah, you dummy.” The Farmer said. “When you brought me that meal yesterday, I kinda remembered something my grandpa once said. A long time ago when I was still young, I noticed he was watching me eat with a smile on his face and asked him what was wrong. He told me that a farmer’s greatest joy is seeing other people happy because of the food you were able to grow for them. I told him it sounded weird and then went to go eat my dinner outside where he couldn’t see me.”

“Wow, you sounded a little ungrateful,” Alex joked.

The Farmer laughed, and Alex took in the joy of every chuckle. “In my defense I was like six,” The Farmer said. “But I think I understand it now. Seeing everyone laughing and sharing the different ways they can cook everything...It’s calming, you know? It reminds me of what you said, back when I hurt my leg.”

“I thought I heard you quoting someone smart out there.”

“I only quote the best.” The Farmer chuckled again. They sat in silence for a few more moments, enjoying the feeling of being next to each other. Until The Farmer spoke up again. “Thank you, Alex.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For being here, being concerned about me, and for, well, making me feel at home.”

Alex’s chest swelled. He felt his heart melt, and the heat coming off his cheeks felt hot enough to burn. All caution thrown to the wind, Alex turned his hand over, interlocking his fingers with The Farmer’s. He memorized the feeling of The Farmer’s calluses as his fingers brushed across them. He turned his head in towards the other man, closing his eyes and breathing in The Farmer’s smell. When he spoke, it was barely above a whisper, “You don’t have to thank your friends.”

The air was hot and heavy around them, thick with the silence they let hang around them. Alex was unsure of what to say next, and he was sure The Farmer felt the same. A minute passed, and neither man said a word, both drinking in the pleasant feeling of each other’s warmth. Alex unsure of how long The Farmer would allow this, but he was going to savor every moment of it. Alex focused on the feeling in his hand right now, the warmth and texture of The Famer's skin, never wanting to let go. He realized what he should say. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted this to go on. He wanted to be more than just friends with this other man.

"Alex..." The Farmer said, his voice low and cautious. "Do you think we...

Alex's heart was hammering loudly against his ribs, growing stronger every second since The Farmer trailed off. Alex echoed The Farmer's words, his voice equally low. "Do you think we, what?" 

“Hey Farmer.” The handle of the bedroom door twisted and the door swung open. Both men jumped, moving apart as Clint appeared in the open doorway. “We’re looking for some more plates. Do you, um, know where Pierre...um, am I interrupting?”

“No, we were just talking.” The Farmer quickly stood up. “I think there’s some still in one of the boxes behind the cottage. I’ll show you.” He brushed passed the confused blacksmith and quickly went outside. Clint glanced back at Alex once more before following.

Left alone, Alex groaned loudly and fell back onto the bed. He clutched his chest and stared angrily at the ceiling. “I’m going to kill Clint,” he said to the empty room.

At the edge of the farm, The Wizard leaned against a fencepost, lounging in the shade of a tree as he observed the residents of Pelican Town try and one-up each other with their dishes. A few feet away, several of the Junimos were arguing among themselves as well.

“See! I told you!” Red said. “The Athlete is going to be the best candidate for a partner.”

“I don’t know,” Blue muttered. “I still think this can cause problems.”

“If it does cause problems, we can just have The Witch erase any memories of The Athlete,” Orange reminded them.

“Plus, The Athlete’s a great kisser,” Green said.

The Wizard glanced over at the group of spirits, eyeing Green. “And how in the world do you know that?”

Green giggled. “It’s a secret.” 

The Wizard sighed, rolling his eyes. “You know what, I don’t even want to know.” He looked back towards the farm. He made a flourish with one hand and the corn cob that Lewis was about to bite into disappeared and began floating before The Wizard. Salt and butter also appeared and began to spread and sprinkle themselves on the corn. “Why are you even bothering at this point?” The Wizard said. “Just let things be. If it’s meant to be, love will happen.”

“Oh yeah?” Orange huffed, “And what do you know of love?”

The Wizard took a bite from his stolen food, and his eyes darted briefly back towards a green-haired woman. Said woman just happened to be mother to a resident with hair color identical to that of The Wizard’s. “You’d wonder that, wouldn’t you?” He said with a sigh.

“He’s probably a virgin just trying to sound cool,” Yellow remarked.

Irritated, The Wizard flung his corn down at the spirit, but the corn was caught and returned easily, smacking the man dead center in the face. The Junimos roared with laughter.

The Wizard growled. He looked considerably less intimidating while wiping the buttery mess from his face. “I’m getting very annoyed that you spirits just come around whenever you feel like it. I miss the days that you used to run in fear of me.”

“Yeah, but now we know you’re just a big softy,” Red said.

The Wizard glared down at Red, then cast it towards the farm instead, eyeing a certain protagonist he’d been roped into helping. “Not by choice. I assure you.”

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 25th

That night, Alex dreamed. 

The sky overhead was painted by the setting sun with splashes of vibrant orange and bruised violet. Even this late into the evening, the spring air was unusually hot and heavy with humidity, signs of an early summer. The ever-present buzzing of cicadas filled Alex’s ears as he crawled through the dirt. He pulled himself forward, arm after arm, dragging his body through several wet and muddy patches of earth. Thick bushes rose up on either side of him, towering green walls with tiny white flowers dotting the foliage. He was a kid again, enjoying his summer vacation. 

Another boy was crawling through the mud in front of him, looking just as dirty as Alex. Their parents would probably give them an earful when they got home, but they knew they’d get worse if they were caught on their current mission.

“There!” The boy ahead of him whispered, pointing into one of the bushes. Alex saw a red, perfectly ripened strawberry hidden just under one of the leaves where the boy was pointing. The boy shuffled past the berry before turning his head back to Alex. “I had the last one, so you get this one.” 

“Okay!” Alex reached for the berry. He plucked the fruit off of its stem and promptly bit into it. The sweet flavors rushed over his tongue, blessing him with the delicious, rich flavor for several moments.

Then a gruff and ragged voice rang out behind them.

“Hey!”

Both boys froze, their cover blown. Alex looked back and saw an old man standing over them. He was dressed in a ragged yellow and blue flannel shirt, with the sleeves well onto their way to being called ragged, and a pair of faded blue denim overalls. He wore a giant, straw-colored sunhat and his skin had it's fair share of wrinkles . His face was dotted with moles and freckles, evidence of how much time he spent in the sun.

Around his neck, was a white bandana.

The old man scowled down at the two boys. His expression was more annoyance than true anger. “What did I tell you boys about eating the crops?” He growled at them. 

The boy leapt to his and grabbed Alex’s hand, pulling him up as well. “Run!” He giggled as they ran, and Alex couldn’t help but smile and join in the laughter as he followed. The old man gave chase, leading to a very elaborate game of cat and mouse across the fields.  The two boys ducked through crop gardens, leaped over fences, and even charged through a small flock of chickens—leaving a cloud of startled clucking and feathers in their wake. They eventually managed to lose the old man by ducking into one of the crimson red barns on that sat the property.

The two boys pressed their backs to the wall, trying to breathe as quietly as possible. Alex’s heart beat against his eardrums, and a smile still adorned his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun. 

“We gotta find a place to hide,” the other boy hissed. He was smiling ear to ear as well, clearly not bothered by how much trouble they were in. They’d been spotted and now it was only a matter of time until their parents knew what they’d done.  The barn reeked of manure, much stronger than the rest of the farm, but they couldn’t be picky with their hiding spot now. The old man was surely to find them sooner or later. 

Alex spotted a pile of hay bales stacked up on the other side of the barn, inside the cow pen.  “Come on, this way!” He grabbed the boy’s hand and they ran towards the haystack. He leapt up onto the fence penning in the cows.

“Careful!” The other boy tugged on Alex’s shirt, pulling him back down to the ground. He pointed towards a cow very near to the spot Alex was about to climb over. Its butt faced them, and there was a fuzzy, bright red ball tied at the base of the tail. “Grandpa says those ones spook easily and can kick people. We should avoid them.”

“Oh, okay.” Alex gave the cow a wary look. The cow’s butt didn’t notice.  

The two boys quickly but carefully crawled over the fence, but several feet down from where Alex had made his first attempt. There weren’t many cows within the pen, so the two managed to quickly navigate their way to the other side without much trouble.

The hay pile was made up of about three large rolls—each roll easily four times the height of Alex’s body—stacked on top of more loose hay. They quickly scrambled up the side of one of the bales, using the twine holding the hay together as a means of pulling themselves up. The coarse texture scratched up whatever skin was exposed, not too painful but the prickly stems of the cut and dry hay was certainly uncomfortable.

Alex reached the top of the pile first, turning back and offering a hand to the other boy who was still about halfway up the final bale. The boy reached out, taking his hand just as the shadow of the old man loomed outside the barn’s entrance. Panicking, Alex overcompensated his strength and pulled far too hard. The other boy crashed into him, the momentum causing both of them to go wheeling backwards towards the edge of the bale. Alex teetered on the edge for a moment, but their combined weight outdid him. The two boys tumbled off, landing in a small pile of loose hay between the barn’s wall and the large hay bales. 

The old man called their names. The gate to the cow pen clicked open.

Alex wrapped one hand around the boy's mouth and put a finger to his lips. The old farmer called their names again and Alex could hear the crunch of the old man’s footsteps across the dirt and hay of the barn. With every step, Alex pulled the boy closer, the excitement from the chase earlier quickly changing to fear. 

From outside, there was a loud clattering of metal against stone and a dog started barking. The old farmer swore under his breath, “If those two boys have hurt themselves, Yoba herself help them.” The gate clicked shut, and the old man’s footsteps slowly grew faint until they faded completely. Soon, the only noises in the barn were the occasional mooing of the cows, and the soft breathing coming from the boy laying on top of him. 

“I think we’re safe,” Alex said.

The boy looked up at Alex, a gigantic grin on his face that made his eyes close. The boy softly exclaimed, “That was awesome!” He crawled off of Alex and looked around the small space they’d landed in. “I never knew about this place before.” His eyes were filled with stars when he turned his gaze back to Alex, “We can turn this place into our secret base! I’ll train the cows to be our lookouts.” 

“You can train cows?” 

The boy crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Well, you can train dogs. I’m pretty sure I could learn how to train cows.” 

“I don’t know. Sounds a little dumb,” Alex said. “All I’ve ever seen cows do is eat and fart.” As if to prove his point, a sound akin to several whoopie cushions filled the air. The boys quickly exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. 

“That can be the signal then!” The boy said, “If they see my grandpa, they’ll fart and let us know.” 

Alex almost agreed, but then the smell hit his nostrils. It was like someone had mixed together rotten eggs and the contents of the pig pen and left it to fester out in the sun. He quickly covered his nose and made a gagging sound. “Oh my gosh, now it’s even worse! Come on, let's get out of here.” Without waiting for the boy, he started climbing up the backside of the bale. Reaching the top, he turned back to see the other boy still sitting on the floor. His hands were clenched over his knees and his gaze was fixed firmly on the ground.

“Hey, aren’t you coming?” 

The boy nodded, but still took a few moments before making the effort to climb up. Alex watched him, but the boy didn’t meet his gaze as he climbed. Once at the top, the other boy pulled himself over the edge, but into a sitting position rather than standing. Alex frowned at him. He sat down across from the boy. He rested his chin in one hand, elbow on his knee and stared. The boy glanced up at Alex once and then back down. 

“What?” Alex prompted. 

“We’re friends, right Alex?” 

The question bewildered Alex. Did they not just spend the last several hours playing together? “Of course we are. Why?” 

The boy ran his hand through his hair, chewing on his lip for a second before continuing. “My summer vacation is over soon. My mom and dad are going to take me back to the city…I won’t be able to see you every day anymore.” 

“But I’ll see you next summer, right?” 

The boy looked up, surprise painting his expression. “Do you wanna see me next summer?” 

“Of course!” Alex thought that much was given. He flashed a big smile at the boy. “We’re best friends, and best friends stick together forever, right?” 

A smile tugged at the other boy’s face, but he held up his fist to Alex, pinky finger extended. “Do you swear it?” 

Alex held up his own hand, wrapping his own pinky finger in with the boy's. “I cross my heart and hope to die. You and me will be together forever!” 

The boy grinned, matching Alex’s goofy smile. “Yeah, together forever!” 

They dropped the handshake, and Alex swung his legs back over the front edge of the bale. “Come on, we should probably hide out at my grandparents’ house. We can play catch and pretend that we were never here.” He jumped off the bale, landing on the floor of the cow’s pen with a loud thump! He turned back to look up the other boy, only to see him already in the air. 

Everything moved in slow motion, and he realized the boy was going to land right on top of him. Alex’s first thought was that it would probably hurt and they’d probably land in cow dung. But as the other boy slowly got closer to him, he recognized something in his expression. 

Fear.

As the boy's feet made contact with Alex's body, shoving him to the ground, he caught sight of a red ball flashing from the corner of his eye. 

Alex’s head hit the ground hard and his vision swam before him. The heavy weight of the other boy landed directly on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. When his vision came back to him, he found himself staring at the ceiling. The ground felt warm and unfortunately squishy in the middle of his back; he'd probably landed in a cow pie. A splitting pain registered at the back of his head where it lay against the floor. He groaned, bringing a hand to his head and looking around. 

The first thing he noticed was that the barn appeared to have aged several decades in a single moment. The paint was suddenly peeling, the wood appeared molded and warped, and there were several new holes in the roof. There was also distinct lack of cows in the pen; where there had previously been at least ten stood only one. A brown cow with white patches that pranced at the far edge of the pen, the clopping of its hooves against the stone floor being the only sound that reached Alex’s ears. The bobbing red ball at the base the cows tail danced. 

Alex reached out, finding the other boy laying next to him, and shook him gently. “What’d you do that for? That hurt.”

The boy didn’t respond, so Alex shook him harder. When there was still no response, Alex pulled himself out and looked over at his friend. He reached for the boy, but a sharp pain shot through his head. Sitting up quickly, he clutched his head in both hands, crying out in pain as red filled his vision. Staring down at his shirt Alex saw a large red stain emanating from the center of his chest.

Looking to the boy again, Alex’s heart stopped. The boy was gone, and in his place was The Farmer.  Blood poured from an open wound on The Farmer’s forehead, dying the yellow hay that surrounded him a deep, deep crimson. The Farmer’s empty, pupil-less eyes snapped open. The Farmer screamed, but it wasn't human. The sound that came from his mouth was a harsh, ear grating and unholy. Short, repetitive, and inhuman, over and over and over again. Alex tried to cry out for help, only to find he made the same noise upon opening his mouth. 

Alex shot up in bed covered in a cold sweat. His phone’s alarm rang on the nightstand, its shrill alarm clock destroying the morning’s peace. He snatched it up and silenced it before immediately dropping it. He fell back in bed for a few minutes trying to process the dream; the disturbing images too fresh in his mind.

Throwing the covers off, Alex made his way to the bathroom. For every step Alex took, he could hear his own heartbeat crash against his eardrums four times. Wrenching the cold water on, Alex splashed it across his face. His legs felt weak, forcing him to clutch at the sides of the sink, looking at his reflection in the mirror and breathing heavy.

“These dreams are getting ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. 

 Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 26th

The Farmer rolled over in his bed, grasping at empty air on the nightstand in an attempt to grab his phone. He looked through bleary eyes at the screen, the time of 6:09 a.m. illuminating his face. He exhaled heavily, letting his limbs go limp and dropping the phone on his pillow next to him. The cold, late-autumn air permeated the house. It chilled The Farmer and tucked him more tightly into bed. It was far more enjoyable being bundled up beneath his blanket, trying to grasp at the already fast-fading fragments of his dream from last night. A dream involving a certain good-looking gridball fanatic.

“Meow!” 

A heavy weight dropped squarely on the center of The Farmer’s chest. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know that Saber had jumped up on the bed, here to request his morning meal.  Saber meowed again and started pawing at The Farmer’s chest.

“It’s too early you big baby,” The Farmer said. He reached up and wrapped his arms around the cat, clamping Saber in a hug. Saber immediately tried to wriggle free of his human’s grasp, but was unsuccessful in his endeavors. The Farmer rolled onto his side, pulling Saber as tightly as he could to his chest. A deep half-growl, half-meow came from Saber, a meager protest to his temporary fate. 

“Why do you even want to eat this early? It’s too cold out. Stay and cuddle with me Saber.” The Farmer kissed the top of Saber’s head, who gave another low growl. If he couldn't cuddle with Alex, then Saber would have to be his hostage instead. It was the least a lazy cat could do. 

Not even two days had gone by since The Farmer’s little neighborhood gathering, but he was still plagued with those damn ‘What if?’ questions, triggering his stupid dreams. At this point he was sure Harvey would diagnose him with dumb bitch disease. Symptoms? Insomnia, anxiety, constipation, self-doubt, constant daydreaming, making a fool of yourself, and night sweats accompanied by some rather steamy dreams that would cause even Yoba to blush. Everything that adorkable jock did plagued him day and night. Even the tiniest flash of a smile could send The Farmer over the edge and cause his heart rate to skyrocket. 

But that moment they shared, sitting on his bed, that was too much. It just felt so right, so comfortable to be physically close to Alex. He definitely wouldn’t mind doing that again now that the weather was getting colder; cuddling up to Alex and falling asleep in his arms as the other man played with his hair.

He'd been thinking about the Pelican Town Fair a lot, but now in a different light. He tried to not be obvious about it, but Haley and Alex didn't seem like they were suddenly closer or all lovely-dovey like new couples typically were. He'd purposefully distracted and distanced himself during potluck to keep an eye on them and watch for the signs; a little touch here or there, a secret smile, anything to indicate they mind be more than friends. Instead, much to his surprise, Alex had willingly left Haley's side and sought him out instead. Surely that meant he still had a chance, right?

The Farmer drifted off again to his pleasant thoughts, letting the very small ‘what if’ grow in his head.

"Maybe it could happen," he thought.   

Then, there was a knock from his front door, snapping out of his thoughts. The Farmer looked down at his cat, “You know you’ve really gotta let me know in advance when you’re inviting people over Saber.” 

“Meow.” 

“Farmer,” Abby’s all too cheerful voice penetrated through the front door. “It’s time to wake up!” 

“Why did you invite Abby over at this Yoba-forsaken hour?” The Farmer asked Saber. As he asked the question, a conversation from two days prior snapped into his head. Directly after getting cuddle-blocked by Cliff and pulled back into the party that he was hosting, Abby had pulled him aside to suggest that they should hit up the mines again soon. He didn’t remember his answer—he was too distracted trying to get back to Alex at the time. But based on the current situation, The Farmer guessed he had agreed just to get her to go away. 

Releasing Saber from his cuddle prison, The Farmer sat up and freed himself from the warmth of his bed. Grabbing a sweater that was lying on top of his chest of clothing and throwing it on, he shuffled into the living room and over to the front door. Abby was in mid-swing for another knock when he opened it. Her fist fell short of just rapping The Farmer across the nose. 

“Oh! Sorry,” Abby retracted her hand. She looked him up and down once. “I know I’m a little early, but you told me that you needed to take care of the animals before we left today. I assumed you might have wanted a little help. But from the look of it, I’m guessing I’m way too early.”

“It’s okay,” The Farmer said, “I usually wake up around this time anyways. You can come inside if you want. I just need a few minutes to get ready.” 

Abby walked right in, closing the door behind herself and taking a seat on the sofa sitting in front of the fireplace. She set her backpack and sword on the ground next to it and swung her legs up on the coffee table-another gift from Robin that had been given as thank you for the potluck-making herself right at home. It wasn’t the first time she’d done so; in fact, the first time she even came over she almost did the exact same thing. Abby had no problem making herself comfortable in other people’s spaces. 

The Farmer excused himself to his room to change into his spelunking clothes, leaving his door open slightly as he learned Abby liked to ramble on a little bit in the morning. Usually it was about something Sam and Sebastian had done or were planning to do, or about how stupidly long and difficult Journey of the Prairie King was. But today was different, Abby had nothing to say to him. He poked his head out after he finished changing, glancing at her. 

Abby was dressed in her usual spelunking outfit as well: denim jeans, sneakers, black tee, and thick flannel overshirt (it got cold in those mines), with her hair pulled back into a bun at the back of her head. She had her fingers laced together in her lap, thumbs twiddling together as she looked around the room. The expression on her face said she had something to say. Her eyes caught his briefly. 

“What’s up?” Abby said.

“You’re being weird today,” The Farmer said, ducking back into his room and gathering up his things. “Normally you’d have already given me a play-by-play about how Sam accidentally launched his skateboard through the front window of the Stardrop Saloon.” 

“I’m not being weird. And technically, that was Mayor Lewis that sent the skateboard through the window yesterday. Sam just forgot where he’d left it.” 

The Farmer hitched his sword at his side and walked back into the room with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Abby locked eyes with him again as he walked into the room. “See?” The Farmer said crossing over to the front door, “Normally that’d have been the first thing out of your mouth.” 

“Maybe I’m a little tired,” Abby popped up, grabbing her things. “I did volunteer to come help you with your animals today. Hey, aren’t you going to like shower or eat or something?” She asked him after rushing out the door after him. 

The Farmer shrugged as they stepped out onto the farm. “I don’t see a point in showering if we’re just gonna get all sweaty in the mines. I’ll just shower at the Spa like we usually do after a day in the caves. And as for food…” he ran over to the fruit tree he planted near his house at the end of summer, plucking a few apples off of it. They were smallish, but edible. He tossed one to Abby and shoved the rest into his bag, “This’ll be enough. I’m not that hungry. You can wait there for a minute, I just gotta open the barn doors and the animals will let themselves out. I can brush them when we get back” 

“Okay…” Abby palmed the apple a few times before taking a bite out of it. She waited by the house for a few minutes, and by the time The Farmer returned, she'd already finished her apple and tossed the core somewhere. The two then walked side by side as they made their way up the path behind his house towards the mountains. She didn’t say anything as they walked past the tunnel overlook or even when they passed by Robin’s place in the woods. 

By the time they reached the lake, The Farmer stopped, a little irritated. Abby walked a few more paces ahead before turning and looking back at him. “What’s up?” 

The Farmer sighed, drooping his head back slightly. He hated confrontation but this needed to happen. “Okay Abby, you gotta let me know what’s going on. The mines are no place to go running around when you’ve got stuff on your mind. If you’re not focused, you might make a fatal mistake. And if you make a mistake, I’ll lose my only source of seeds because your father will never let me into his store again.” 

A slight smile pulled at Abby’s lips from the joke, but it dropped off her face quickly.

'That’s good', The Farmer thought. At least she wasn’t seriously upset about anything that humor didn’t work.

She fidgeted for a moment, looking at the forest around her. “Okay," she started, "so please don’t take this the wrong way at all, but I’ve got a kinda personal question for you, and you totally don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. And please don’t get offended, I just don’t want you to think anything weird because I’m asking, but it’s just that I thought I was reading some signs, and I wasn’t sure if I was reading them right since I’m also like that, or kinda like that I guess, or if I’m totally off base because I was right when I guessed it about Seb, but I’m still not sure with Sam or you so-” 

The Farmer wasn’t sure if he should smile or not. The longer Abby rambled on, the faster her words came and it was a little funny. Part of his stomach dropped because it felt like she was trying to confess, but another part felt like she was also trying to reject him at the same time. “You’re rambling,” he said.

“Are you gay?” 

A brief silence hung over them. After Abby blurted out the question, she snapped her mouth shut and puffed out her cheeks looking just like a kid that had tried to convince their parents dessert should be served before and after dinner. Her wide eyes and nervous half-smile were too much. 

A snort burst forth from The Farmer's lips, and he erupted in laughter. Of all the racing questions his mind came up with, that wasn’t even on the list. “Oh my Yoba, that’s what had you all worked up?”

“Ah, well, you know,” Abby gave a nervous chuckle. “Some people, especially guys, can really take that question the wrong way.”

The Farmer smiled at her. “Yeah, I guess some of them do. But yes, to answer your questions, I am gay.” 

The nervousness dropped out of Abby’s posture and her usual demeanor resumed immediately. She breathed out heavily. “Oh thank Yoba. I was questioning whether I should even ask you in the first place or anything. I know some people like to come out at their own pace, but like I wasn’t sure if you were trying to keep it a secret or anything.” 

The Farmer smiled. “No, it’s not really a secret or anything. To be honest I haven’t explicitly told that many people yet. I’m actually a little surprised no one’s asked. Everything I learned about small towns on TV told me that the people depended more on gossip than water to live. What made you ask?” 

Abby shrugged. “Well, I mean I’m bi, and I guessed a few years back that Seb was also bi and I was right about that-” Abby paused, narrowing her eyes while she processed what she just said. She slapped a hand to her face and groaned. “Shit, don’t tell him I said that. He’s still not out to his family and I’m the only one who knows.” 

The Farmer held up his hand defensively. Abby must not have realized she was subconsciously reaching for her sword. At least she was ride or die for her friend, he could respect that. “Hey, I know what that’s like. You have my word as a fellow gay that I won’t say anything.” When Abby relaxed her posture, he chuckled. “I mean, it’s kinda nice knowing that Penny and I aren’t the only ones.” 

“Penny’s gay too?” 

He froze for a moment before copying Abby’s motion, slapping his own face and groaning. “Double horseshit. Please don’t tell anyone she is. I mean, yes she’s bi, but yeah don’t tell anyone.” 

“What do you know,” Abby walked over to The Farmer, throwing an arm around his shoulder and smiled. “I guess we do travel in packs.” 

“I mean have you met straight people?” The Farmer grinned. “I can barely put up with them for an hour at a time.” 

Abby groaned loudly. “Tell me about it. I can barely put up with my mom pestering me about getting a boyfriend all the time. I mean, maybe I want a girlfriend mom. I know I’ve been tempted every time Leah flexes her biceps. No boy could ever hope to reach her pinnacle of physical fitness. Plus, I have to deal with Sam, who I think might also swing both ways. But I’m still not sure, because he can get really touchy with Seb, but then the next moment he says something that only a straight fuckboy would. And with you, I thought that maybe he swung that way, but you seemed to be hiding it or something. Then after that thing with Alex at your party-”

“What thing?” The Farmer interrupted, voice slightly higher pitch then he hoped for it to come out. 

Abby removed her arm and instead crossed both over her chest. She looked at him directly in the eye, but this time it was The Farmer’s turn to avoid eye contact. A small smile crept onto her lips. “Oh, I see. That’s why Haley put Sam into a headlock.” 

The Farmer wanted to question what exactly Abby was referring to, but there was a new voice joining the scene. “Farm boy?” 

He jumped, more than turned, towards Alex. The man had somehow managed to materialize behind them without a sound. He wore one of those stupid tank tops that jocks wore sometimes, where the length of the shirt below both armpits were cut nearly to the bottom hem. It was stupid and pretentious, and as a gay man, The Farmer hated how attractive it made Alex look. All he wanted to do was rip it off to get the full view instead of the glimpses.  Sure, he’d seen those muscles plenty of times during the summer, but the way the shirt barely teased the goods was damnable. 

Alex pulled his headphones out of his ears, holding the buds in his fingers. “Hey, what are you doing up here?” 

The Farmer made a very obvious attempt of looking at Alex’s face instead of the visible bits of skin the man was showing off. “Just heading towards the mines,” he said, eyes struggling to maintain contact. “What about you? It’s kind of early for a jog.” 

“Yeah,” Alex admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. “I’ve been having...a hard time sleeping the last few days. Too much energy I guess.”  Staring this hard at Alex’s face, The Farmer noticed the very faint beginnings of dark circles under his eyes.

Very suddenly, Alex’s hand was brushing against The Farmer’s forehead. The Farmer froze, unsure of what exactly was happening, but reveling in every second he got to feel Alex’s hands on him. Alex’s fingers very boldly traced the scar on his forehead, gently caressing the tissue as his eyes fiercely examined the outline of it. 

The Farmer felt his breath hitch in his throat. He barely managed to whisper the other man’s name as a question. Alex’s eyes widened slightly, as if he realized what he was doing, and dropped his hand. But as he did, he let his fingers touch The Farmer’s cheek, sending electricity down the other man’s spine. 

The Farmer’s head was spinning and his heart was pumping blood to the beat of an overly excited taiko drummer. This was new, this was definitely new. He was sure he’d always been the one to initiate this sort of casual touch. Alex had only offered it when The Farmer needed human affection, never just for no reason before, right?

“I’m sorry,” Alex said quickly. “I’m a little tired, I wasn’t thinking. I just...” 

“It’s okay,” The Farmer said fighting the urge to hug him as the man trailed off. Alex’s expression bled with exhaustion; the man looked positively worn down. “But are you okay?" 

“Why? You worried about me?” Alex forced a smile. “You know Haley once said she thought you gave off the aura of some cool loner at the edge of town. If people knew you had a soft spot for me, you’d ruin that persona.” 

Something twisted inside The Farmer. Alex was deflecting, very obviously too. But if he didn’t want to talk about it, maybe he shouldn't bring it up.

The Farmer half-chuckled instead. “Well you know, that’s how I’d get you all to leave me alone, right? But look at me, the idiot who can’t stop worrying about his friends and neighbors. There goes my seven-year plan of not speaking or interacting with anyone at all.” 

Alex frowned. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re not an idiot. You may need to brush up your social skills a bit, but you also dropped everything and started a farm—a business—and built from the ground up! Not many people can do that, certainly nobody who ain’t smart.”

“Wow Alex, I think that’s the first time you’ve ever said anything that made you actually sound like a country bumpkin.” 

“No, I’m serious!” Alex gripped one of The Farmer's shoulders and gave it a tight squeeze. “I think you’re really smart and you seriously have a lot of talent. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you’re lecturing me about philosophy over dinner.” 

The Farmer was stunned to silence, feeling the blush filling his cheeks. This had somehow turned into a pep talk for him, and having Alex’s undivided attention and support was...it was hard to describe. But whatever this feeling was, it was nice. It was warm, and it made him feel like he didn’t have to hide anything. 

Alex released The Farmer’s shoulder, and The Farmer reached up to brush some of his own hair out of his eyes. “Wow, thanks Alex. I don’t quite know what to say.” 

“No problem.” There was a pause, and Alex forced a smile once more. “What are friends for, right?” 

That warm feeling inside The Farmer suddenly clenched itself into a fist and rammed itself into his gut. Over and over again. “Right,” The Farmer smiled weakly. “Friends.”  

Quickly, The Farmer continued, desperate to not leave the conversation hanging there. “You know, if we do ever sit down and talk about philosophy, I hope you don’t cook our dinner. The only person that can cook in your family is your grandma.” 

“Hey, I’ll have you know I can cook plenty of breakfast food to perfection. Pancakes are my specialty.” 

“You only know how to cook breakfast food?” 

“It’s the only meal that matters.” 

The Farmer laughed. “Alright then, I look forward to our philosophy pancakes.” 

Alex smiled at him. “Kay, I’ll see you later then, farm boy.” For a moment it looked like he was waiting to say something else, but then he put in his earbuds and waved before he continued his job up the mountain. 

The Farmer watched him go, wondering to himself what that was all about. 

“Holy shit.” Abby said, emphasizing both syllables in ‘Holy’. Her voice sent The Farmer’s soul running for heaven; he was mortified, having forgotten she was right there. 

“Abby!” The Farmer spun to her. He knew from her expression that she probably knew everything after witnessing whatever just happened. But he was sure as hell gonna try and deny it. “So that was all, ah…” He struggled to come up with an excuse.

“Holy shit,” she repeated. “You’ve got it bad. And from the looks of it, so does he.” 

“W-what?” he stammered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh please, it’s like I wasn’t even standing five feet away from the two of you! The sheer sexual tension in the air was so thick I could have drowned in it. I’m more surprised he’s not currently ramming you up against a tree right now.” 

The Farmer’s face flushed redder than he’d ever thought possible. His cheeks burned so hot he was sure they were on fire. Instead of responding to her, he simply turned and started walking up the mountain trail toward the mines. 

“Hey, hey, hey, wait up.” Abby grabbed hold of The Farmer’s backpack, stopping him in his tracks and pulling herself up next to him. “I’m serious. I never thought that Alex would swing that way, but after that interaction I’m pretty sure he’s very into you.” 

“We’re just friends.” The Farmer said, “And I’m pretty sure he’s not into guys. He’s never indicated anyways.” 

“Maybe he’s not into ‘guys,’ per say,” Abby said, making air quotes with her fingers. “Maybe it’s more of a ‘I like girls, but if the right guy comes along who gets me, I’m flexible’ thing.” 

The Farmer sighed and looked ahead. They’d reached the bridge and just on the other side was the entrance to the mines. “Look, it’s just a dumb crush I have. I’m convinced it’s not going anywhere, so can we just focus on the mines instead?” 

Abby pulled The Farmer back, swinging herself in the process so she could plant herself between him and the bridge. “Nope,” she declared, swinging her arms out wide. “You said yourself that these caves aren't something that you should be running around when ‘you’ve got stuff on your mind.’ And you sir, have a lot to unpack.” She jabbed her finger at his chest. 

“Abby, I don’t,” 

“No, I don’t wanna hear it.” She spun him around and started marching the two of them back towards town. “Now, I know where my dad keeps the shitty wine hidden. I’ll swipe some from the store, we can get day drunk, and then you are going to tell me everything.”

Abby was surprisingly strong when she wanted to be. Or maybe The Farmer was actually the weak one and everyone else in the valley was just secretly ripped. Whatever the case, pouring his heart out sounded kind of good right now. He didn’t really talk to Penny about his crush on Alex, she only knew that he was gay. Whenever she asked about his past romance, it was always about some guy he’d gone on a date with once back in the city. 

“Okay," The Farmer relented, "but make sure you get the really shitty wine. And if I start crying, it’s only partly because I'm a sad drunk.” 

“Now that’s what I like to hear!” 

Just barely in earshot, sitting in a tree not far from the mountain lake, Orange, Blue, and Green watched The Farmer and The Gamer disappear down the path.  Blue and Green spoke softly among themselves. Once the humans were out of sight, Orange leapt out of the tree. 

“Orange, wait!” Green called after its friend. “Where are you going?” 

Orange didn’t say anything. Ignoring Green’s cries of protest, Orange made its way deeper into the forest. The Junimo kept a vigilant watch as it moved, searching for a clearing that it knew was up ahead. After a minute, Green and Blue caught up to it. They began a barrage of questions, but Orange signaled for the others to keep quiet. 

The other two fell silent, and after a moment a yell of frustration filled the air. Orange wordlessly gestured for them to climb up the nearby tree. The three Junimos scrambled up, and upon reaching the lowest hanging branches, a human stumbled into the clearing. 

“Yoba damn it!” The Athlete yelled, kicking a nearby tree. “‘Friend?’ Did I actually say that? I have got to be the dumbest man in the world.” He made a sound that was halfway between a sob and a sigh before dropping onto his butt and leaning back against the tree underneath the Junimos. “He looked so…”

Wordlessly again, Orange wiggled one of its tiny little arms and a little sparkling cloud appeared in front of it. From the cloud, dangled a single red string. Orange grabbed it and pulled; the string unwound from the cloud like it was being pulled off of a spindle. Orange wrapped part if it loosely around Green and Blue and tied the end of the string around its own body. Without bothering to explain, Orange leapt off of the branch, plummeting for The Athlete. Before Green could cry out, the red string went taut, stopping Orange’s plummet. The Junimo bounced a few inches above the humans head a few times and then came to a halt. Orange reached out and touched a hair on The Athlete’s head. 

I’m the world’s biggest coward, The Athlete’s voice filled Junimos mind. He looked so hurt when I said that we were friends. That...that means he wants to be more than friends, right? Maybe Haley was right. I should just put it out in the open. 

An image flashed through their minds. It saw The Athlete sitting on a couch, next to The Photographer, and the two were talking. “What if you do have a chance with The Farmer,” The Photographer said, “but you decided that you’d rather remain friends because you weren’t sure? Then what if further down the line you realized your feelings are romantic, but he’s with someone else? Could you keep up your friendship with him and still harbor these feelings?”

More images. The Athlete was sitting at an ice cream stand near the river. The Farmer walked past him with a glance, and an awkward half-smile was shared between them. They did talk, they never did anymore because it was always just tense silence after the inconsequential small talk. Because neither of them had the courage to voice that unspoken question on both of their minds. 

A few months went by and The Athlete was standing next to a fence post at that flowering field in the middle of the Cindersap Forest. He was dressed up, more than the other men, insecurity showing in how he kept reaching up to mess with his hair and tie every few seconds. The Photographer was next to him, slapping his hands down every time, telling him it was fine. 

The Farmer walked into view, and The Athlete smiled. Then another man followed him into the field. The two were laughing and gazing at each other with a tenderness that stabbed painfully into The Athlete's chest. Then, The Athlete slowly looked down to where the new man and The Farmer were holding hands. A shadow fell over the entire field, and only The Athlete looked up. He'd become very, very small, he was looking up at the shadowed figure of another man. The sharp scent of beer filled the air.

“No!” The Athlete sobbed, bringing both of his hands up to grab fistfuls of his hair. “No, no, no! This has nothing to do with you, why am I even thinking about you?” Panic and fear filled the mind of the Junimos, the human’s emotions influencing their own. The Athlete’s breath quickened and became rapid and short. 

More images flashed through the Junimos minds. There was The Grump and The Baker, who looked after The Athlete; The Grump looked disgusted while The Baker sobbed into her hands. There were images of The Athlete jogging through town, where once villagers would give a smile and call out a hello, they now all ignored The Athlete. Then he stood outside the farm, watching as The Hero and the new man went about the daily chores The Athlete once did for him. Flashes of cleaning out the chicken coop, harvesting crops, planting seeds. Like pictures in an album, anything that had once been The Farmer and The Athlete was quickly thrown out and replaced. 

Then The Athlete was in The Farmer’s bedroom. The Farmer and the new man were locked together, interwinding their limbs in a tangled mess, hands exploring each other’s body feverishly as clothing was discarded. The Athlete tried to run from the room, but invisible forces violently shoved him to the floor, holding him down. A hand latched onto a fistful of his hair and yanked The Athlete’s head up, forcing him to watch the scene unfold. 

“Isn’t this what you’ve wanted to see?” The Athlete’s own voice spoke in his ear. “You’re never going to have the courage to do it. So, don’t you want to know what you’ll miss out on?” 

At that moment, The Farmer’s eye met with The Athlete. A wide and impossible smile crept across The Farmer’s face, literally stretching his lips from ear to ear. Tears fell from The Athlete’s eye, both in the vision and back in the forest as the twisted images from his panic attack held him completely rigid.

“AHHHHH!” Orange screamed, jerking its tiny arm away from The Athlete’s head. His visions immediately left the minds of the three Junimos. The red string snapped and faded, and Orange tumbled to the ground. Orange righted itself quickly, screaming up tree, “Green, Blue!” 

The other two quickly leapt from the branch, landing on top of Orange with Green on top. Green raised both hands, and the air shimmered around the three of them. The appearance of the three changed to that of a woman they had once seen in The Athlete’s mind before; a petite brunette woman wearing two blue hair scrunchies and a long purple dress.  

They grabbed at the Athlete’s hands. His body was locked, limbs refusing to move and resisting all attempts to forcefully do so. It took a little time, but eventually the three Junimos managed to work The Athlete’s fingers out of his hair and interlock them with their form. “Everything’s alright,” Green said in the woman’s voice. As Green spoke, a blue light began emanating from their form. “Everything will be fine. Now sleep.”  

The blue light enveloped The Athlete. Slowly, the tension went out of his body and his breathing steadied. His hands slipped out of their own, and The Athlete slumped onto the forest floor asleep. The light around the woman’s form faded, and then just the three small Junimos remained.

“So,” Green broke the silence first. “What should we do?” 

“Can we do anything?” Blue said, “The elder didn’t want us to interfere.” 

Orange stepped toward The Athlete, looking down at the human for a few moments before turning back to the other two. “White said we were to observe the relationship and wait.  I think we’re done waiting. Humans never change, and neither of them have the courage to say anything. Their memories are just hurting them.” 

Orange looked back down at the human one more time. “I’m going to contact The Witch.” 

Chapter Text

Year: 1

Season: Fall

Date: 27

Haley was at her wits end. She thought that everything was going to be okay. She thought that everything would work itself out in the end. She thought that with just a few helpful nudges and an afternoon spent talking about feelings over ice cream would make up for the fact that her best friend was, in fact, a man. As it turned out, men could not be cured of their stupidity.

Outside, the sun had almost completely set, heralding the coming Spirit’s Eve Festival. The idiot sat on her bed, dressed in his red white and blue superhero costume and wearing a solemn but confused expression. 

Alex had stopped by while Haley was still putting the finishing touches on the blue flower crown for her pixy outfit. She was adjusting her hair and makeup in a mirror while they made small talk about yesterday. Haley had only been half-listening to the part about his jog, until he mentioned running into The Farmer.  A smile touched her lips when he started talking about the other man, but once he told Haley what he’d said, she turned her full, exasperated attention toward him.

“Wait, wait, wait. Alex, let me get this straight,” Haley said. “You mean to tell me that yesterday you ran into The Farmer, the man that you haven’t been able to stop thinking of for weeks, during your jog. You noticed that he was checking you out, a very obvious sign that someone is into you, and-”

“I don’t know!” Alex protested. “I mean I thought he could have been-”

Haley slammed her hand onto the wooden surface of her vanity, her voice almost shrill. “And you friend-zoned him?!”

Alex’s mouth opened and closed, stammering over his words in an attempt to defend himself, but couldn't manage to summon a coherent sentence. With a massive huff, Haley marched over and stood directly before him. She grabbed his face with one hand, jerking it in a way that he was forced to look at her.  

“Alex. Listen to me. I told you this a month ago, but apparently it didn’t sink in. Unless you wanna dance around him and your feelings like hot coals for the rest of your life and make yourself miserable, you have to tell him that you like him.” 

“I-I’m trying to!” Alex pouted. “But every time I wanna say something to him I just, shrink up. What if he just wants to be friends?” 

“Well he’s going to think that if you keep telling him you’re just the best of friends!” Haley released Alex and pinched her temple together. She inhaled deeply to calm herself before sitting down next to him. Alex was fidgety and refused to meet her eyes; so unlike himself.

She eventually took his hand in her own and tried to soften her tone, just not soft enough that it sounded like she pitied him. “Alex, what you need to understand is that most people will take the word of others for what it is. Not everyone will overanalyze what you say and do, trying to figure out if there’s something to read between the lines. It's exhausting, a waste of time, and you just set yourself up to get hurt.  If you tell The Farmer that you’re just ‘the best of pals!’ then he’s going to assume that’s how you truly feel. When people care about each other—in any kind of healthy relationship—they’re forthcoming about their feelings. They’ll tell the other person when they’re happy because they’ll want to share in that joy together. Or vice versa, if they’re sad they will seek them out for comfort.” 

Haley reassuringly ran her hand up and down Alex’s arm, trying to coax him into looking at her. Eventually, he did. Her insides twisted horribly as her next words formed on her tongue, but she knew it had to be said. “If you give someone else the blueprints, don’t be surprised when they build the wall between you.”

Alex was quiet. He cast his eyes back towards the ground.

Haley squeezed his arm tightly. A small panic arose in the back of her mind. In all the years she had known him, she’d never seen him so unsure of himself. He never used to worry about the consequences and if anyone disagreed with him, it’d always be ‘their problem’ he’d say. Did something happen to him lately that he wasn’t telling her? “Alex, you’re scaring me. Will you please talk to me?” 

Alex sighed deeply. “But what if that’s what he wants? What if I’m not his type? How do people in same-sex relationships even do this? I, I’ve been...” 

A few moments of silence passed before Haley prompted him to continue. “You what, Alex?” 

His hand felt clammy and warm under hers, and she could see the hint of a blush beginning to bloom under his mask. “I’ve, uh, been doing some, research, I guess. Like, I know I’m not the greatest reader, but I’ve been looking up some things on my phone.”

Haley took a moment to process what he had just said and had to fight a smile from bursting as a small seed of relief began to grow in her. At least it wasn’t anything The Farmer had done to Alex. She’d never be able to forgive that man if he’d ever hurt Alex.

She took this chance to tease him a little, try and pull him out of his cloud of misery. “What kind of research? Have you been looking up pictures of men Alex?”

“What? No!” Alex sputtered, growing even more flustered. 

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to be ashamed if you were looking up porn Alex. It’s natural to be curious. Especially if you’re not sure if you’re into men like that.” 

“I don’t need to look up porn to know that I’m into The Farmer that way.” Alex declared. 

“Oh?” Haley couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. 

Alex froze as the gears in his head grinded to a stop. His brain began to short-circuit as his own words played back in his head, the realization of what he’d just revealed to Haley setting in. A blush suddenly erupted across his whole face. Haley continued to smile at him as Alex’s entire being screamed for the sweet release of death. He stood up quickly, walking to the center of the room and praying that Yoba would end his existence right that minute. 

After realizing that divine retribution wasn’t coming for him, Alex ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady his heartbeat. He turned around to face her, hands in front of himself, but ultimately couldn’t meet her gaze. He had to resort to looking at the bed instead. “No, I have not been doing that kind of research Haley. I, I’ve been looking up...other things.”

“What kind of things?”

“You know, like...love stories. Stories about two guys,” He added. Although given their current conversation he probably didn’t have to. “I’ve never done a real relationship before, let alone thought of having one with another guy. You were the one that approached me in high school and like you said before, we didn't actually do anything. I never gave any serious thought as to what being someone’s boyfriend might be like. So, I thought reading some stories would a good reference on how to start approaching my relationship with The Farmer.” 

“And were they?” 

Alex frowned. The confidence drained from him again, his shoulders dropping inward and head drooping. Quickly, he sat down next to her again before continuing. “That’s why I don’t know how people in same-sex relationships even start these things. There seems to be so much pressure on them to hide the relationship from people around them, that a lot of the romance was just, I don’t know, silently admiring each other until they’re forced to admit their feelings. Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?” 

A half-frown crossed Haley’s face. She took a few moments to think, the crestfallen look of her friend eventually spurring her on.  “Look, Alex. Having a crush on someone can be one of the most enjoyable experiences people have. The smallest glance, smile, or even action can send you into joyful bliss. I’ve known other girls that had it so bad in high school that their crush could have belched in their face and they’d be reduced to a giggling, blushing mess.”

“I don’t have it that badly,” Alex murmured, his bottom lip protruding as he pouted. 

Haley half-smiled, not rebutting him and placed her arm around him. “Crushing on someone also means you probably spend a lot of time daydreaming about them. Imagining yourself in a lot of other romantic situations with them. Maybe you’re on a date somewhere, maybe you’re holding hands and laughing, or maybe, I don’t know, maybe you’re actually pirates on the high seas and you’re romantically pillaging small towns up and down the coast.

“The point is,” Haley continued on while ignoring Alex’s sideways glance at her last comment. “These imaginings can be harmless, but I’m afraid you might be clinging onto them too desperately. If you spend too much time with them in your head than with the actual person, you’re going to fall in love with your idea of them. 

“Say you stay the way you two are right now for a year, or even several years, dancing around your emotions and constantly toeing at the line between you two. And say one of you actually does make the first move after all that time, and you guys do get together, what would you do after all that time? You spend months, or even years, creating an idea of him inside your head instead of actually spending personal, one-on-one time with him and learning who he is. Once you start dating then, he’s not going to act like that idea you have of him because he’s not that idea. He’s his own person. 

“All that pinning, and all that hidden romance you read about only works because its fictional. That’s why it's romanticized and held up as ideal. Because in an ideal world, there wouldn't be heartache and you would always find your life partner in high school. In fiction, characters are shaped by the authors. But in reality, people change from day to day. They have hundreds, if not thousands of experiences and interactions that shape them into the person you see in front of you. Give them a few years, heck, even a few weeks, and someone can completely turn around their entire personality and outlook on life. I’m definitely not the same person I was in high school, how about you?” 

Alex took a few moments to process her words, scratching the back of his head and scrunching up his face as he thought. “I guess not. I know I'm in a better place than I was as a teenager.” 

“Exactly.” Haley gave Alex a quick squeeze and then stood up from the bed. She exhaled heavily and turned towards him pouting. “Okay, you know what I just realized Alex? This is your first real crush, right?” 

Alex gave a half-hearted nod and shrug at the same time. 

“Do you realize how many of these heavy relationship-focused conversations we’ve had about The Farmer in the last two months?” Haley continued without waiting for an answer. “Too many, that’s how much. You’ve known this guy for less than a year. My last piece of advice to you tonight is to relax and enjoy yourself.” 

“You do realize that’s a little hard to do after all the advice you just dumped into my brain, right?” 

Haley waved him off. “Look, the gist of it is to spend time with him and see him for who he truly is without letting your emotions hold you back.” 

Alex sighed, “Easy for you to say. You don’t have this big jumbled mass of emotions hovering over you and bombarding you all day.” He made vague, arcing gestures to the air above him. 

Haley half-smiled, half-frowned at Alex, amusement dotting her expression. “Alex, just…do what you want to do!” She exclaimed. “If your emotions tell you to kiss him, then hell, pull him in and plant one on him. If you wanna flirt with him, then do it! It’s okay to follow your impulses. I know you can’t help but overthink sometimes, but you can’t let that overthinking brain of yours rule your every waking moment. If you want me around to make it easier to be around him, then I’ll stick around. But the second you want some time alone with The Farmer tonight,” Haley gave him a wink. “Just lemme know and I’ll make sure you two get a little space.”

“Being alone with Alex is the last thing I want to do right now,” The Farmer bemoaned. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Abby said. She stood behind him, gently pushing him down the path that lead from the farm towards the village. The sun had set about an hour ago, and the dim glow of candlelight could be seen in the distance. “You’re going to go to the Spirit’s Eve Festival with me, Sebby, and Sam, and we’re all going to just accidentally run into Alex.” 

The Farmer sighed. “Abby, I told you. I don’t wanna ‘accidentally’ run into him. I think what I need is a little space and this crush is gonna disappear.” 

“Crush?” Abby scoffed. “You’re not crushing on Alex; you’re grotesquely head over heels crushing on him. Which, in all honesty, is just another way to say you love him. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” 

The Farmer felt his cheeks heat up. “I’m not in love with Alex, I barely know him,” he protested, shoving aside the mental list of quirks and habits about Alex that immediately popped into his mind. “He’s a cute guy that’s being nice to me and I’m enjoying the attention. I’m just a plain-and-simple touch-starved gay. A hopeless romantic that is misinterpreting the attention as the possibility that there’s something romantic there. Once I get some space and a dose of reality, I’ll see that he’s not into me.”

Abby stopped pushing him, taking a step back crossing her arms. “Well that’s a rather cruel self-analysis, Mr. Cynical. Look, you have to listen to an outsider on this, and that outsider is me! A few more minutes up on that mountain the other day and the two of you would have been going at it like animals in heat. Come on Farmer, I know he likes you. So listen to a second opinion that isn't your own, and take the chance and ask him out! What’s the worst he can do?” 

“Reject me,” The Farmer said quickly, the venom on his tongue burning his mouth. His eyes bore holes in the ground nearby, painful memories cutting him up inside.

“Well if you’re already prepared for the worst, then imagine how great you’ll feel when he says yes!” Abby beamed. 

The Farmer turned his eyes on Abby, his seething indignation for the way she was treating this growing by the second. Her optimism was beginning to get a little too suffocating, the carefree smile that she wore mismatched with her all-black witch costume. He sighed heavily in frustration, running a hand through his hair and trying to force himself to calm down. “I’ve told you this already Abby, I’m not willing to dive into a relationship with someone, especially when I don’t even know if he wants me. And besides, I don’t actually know how to do the whole relationship thing. The only experience I have were basically just extended weekend booty calls that would ghost me after a few dates. Alex doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who’d want that and that's the only type of relationship I know. I...I don't want to have that kind of relationship with Alex.” His voice slowly grew quiet towards the end.

“Yeesh, no wonder you’ve spent three-fourths of the year pining after him. I didn't realize it was that bad when we had our day-drinking date.” Abby ignored the stern look The Farmer shot her. “Look, I’m not privy to Alex’s personal life, but best I can tell, he’s never been in a relationship either. So that just means the two of you will have to figure things out together and there’s gonna be some, or a lot of, awkward bumps in the road. Nothing wrong with that, am I right?” 

“But-”

“Up-bup-bup!” Abby put a finger to his lips. “I don’t wanna see any more of that self-doubt, you hear me? Believe in yourself a little bit.” 

The Farmer swatted her hand away. “I’m not good at the ‘Fake it till you make it’ mentality. Joja literally has an orientation program that’s designed to teach their trainees that emotions get in the way of productivity and feelings are useless. I’m still trying to shake that off.” 

Abby’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes got very wide. “What kind of dystopian shit is that?”

“Legal shit apparently,” The Farmer huffed. 

“And people wonder why I like living in the middle of nowhere,” she said more to herself. Abby then frowned at him, placing her hands on her hips. “Look, I want you to trust me, okay? People love confidence. Nobody likes hanging out with someone who’s always down on themselves. If you tell everyone you’re no good, eventually that thought is going to get set like concrete and they’ll start treating you as no good. They’ll either pity you or not want anything to do with you.”

“But then won’t I come off as arrogant?” 

She shrugged. “I could argue that Alex comes off as arrogant sometimes. Maybe that’s just his way of signaling that he’s really attracted to confidence. Maybe that’s just who he is, and you’ll get that dose of reality you’re looking for and realize ‘Yikes, I just dodged a bullet.’ Bottom line, you need to spend time with him. Just be yourself, stop acting so timid and self-conscious, and engage him in normal conversation.” 

“Oh darn, and here I thought that talking about cow shit was how you seduce a man.” 

Abby reached out and flicked her finger against The Farmer’s forehead. “That sort of cynical sarcasm is what I’m talking about. A little might be funny but spouting it all the time whenever Alex is involved won’t get you anywhere.” 

The Farmer took a step away and rubbed the spot on his head Abby had flicked. It throbbed angrily, his temper building with every pulse. “Look Abby, I appreciate all the wisdom and worldly advice you’re dropping on me, but I don’t think it really works that way.” 

“And how would you know none of it works if you won’t even try it?” 

“Because I’ve seen how that works in the real world!” The Farmer snapped. “Life isn’t going to just tie everything together into a neat little knot for you. You don’t always get the happy ending, married with two point five kids and a yard with a white picket fence because you really want it, or you try really hard. Very few people get what they actually want because real life doesn’t work that way.” 

Abby’s frown deepened as she glared at him. “So, what, Pelican Town doesn’t count as the ‘real world?' Is that what you’re saying?”

The Farmer ran a hand through his hair, trying to not yell through his annoyance at everything. He was annoyed with how Abby was pushing him. Annoyed with all the advice she was rattling on about. Annoyed about how quickly it all got under his skin and how it was making him lose his temper.

Dark thoughts start clouded his mind about the last time he’d dove headfirst into flirting with another guy, only to find out the landing zone at the bottom was for women only. That impact had broken his heart so badly that everything else, from his bones to his will to live, broke in sympathy.

Abby suddenly let her head drop backwards, her hat falling to the ground as she made a frustrated sound in her throat. “Farmer, I’m sorry.”

The Farmer blinked, taken aback as the words sliced through the clouds in his mind. “What?”

Abby rolled her neck to both sides, her mouth pulled together tightly before she spoke. “I’m sorry. It’s obvious I’m overstepping my bounds here. From the sound of it, you had some pretty rough experiences before you came to Pelican town, huh?”

The Farmer let the silence hang between them for a few moments. He shoved his hands into his pockets, eyes dropping to the dirt below his feet. Eventually, he said, “That’s one way of putting it.”

Abby sighed, and The Farmer didn’t need to look at her to know her eyes had pity in them. She picked up her hat, and after fastening it back onto her head, turned to him. “Look, I’m know that the two of us just dishing boy gossip over shitty wine isn’t enough to put us on ‘best friends’ terms yet. But I do consider us friends, and I want to help you with whatever you decided to do with your feelings for Alex. I’m just…” She took a moment to find the right word, “Forcefully, giving you my opinion on the situation.”

The Farmer sighed, letting his annoyance dissipate through it. If he were going to go to the festival, it probably wouldn’t make for a fun night if he clung to his negative emotions. “Do you give Sam and Sebastian this much of your forceful opinions?”  

Abby snorted. “Oh please, the only thing on those dorks’ brains most of the time is music and solarian chronicles. They have exactly one brain cell, and I’m the one they gave it to.”

The Farmer smirked slightly. “Okay, miss brains. Let’s keep going then.”

The two fell into step, a comfortable silence hung over them.

But only for a minute.

“So,” Abby said. “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you going to do about Alex? You’re definitely going to see him tonight.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just, don’t think I want to be alone with him right now. I just wanna hang out with you and your friends. But if we do run into Alex, can you promise me to not leave me alone with him?”

“Only if you let me give you one more opinion.”

The Farmer rolled his eyes. “Fine, what is it?”

“Okay. From everything you told me, and everything I know about Alex, it sounds like even if he rejected you as a boyfriend, you’d still have a pretty amazing friend.” A smirk touched Abby's lips. “Me.” 

The Farmer rolled his eyes again but let himself enjoy the joke. “Okay Abby, say he does reject me and just wants to remain friends. What if I can’t give up on my feelings for him?” 

Abby shrugged. “If you ask me, you got two choices. One, just stay friends and wait for the next hot guy to enter your life. Two, you could just be a shitty friend and break all contact with him for a while. Actually, there’s a third option: uproot your entire life again and move to an even smaller town in an even more remote corner of the country.”

The two walked in silence. Memories flashed through The Farmer’s mind as he walked, like a high-speed slideshow. He recalled every other crush he’d had in his life. Most of them played out the same way as his current one: silently pinning from a distance, preemptively setting up boundaries between himself and the object of his affection, always telling himself this was just in case it didn’t work out.

But then, he’d never actually done much else. He’d just continue to build and build and build, until he sat atop a colossal tower where he would spend his days in isolation. Watching with a broken heart as his beau would run off with someone else. Someone closer, someone that wasn't as much work. When he’d been left with nothing but empty towers, he took a drastic step in the opposite direction. He stopped building walls and threw himself into the arms of the nearest man that would have him. Then, when that man would toss him aside, The Farmer would just tell himself that this was how the world worked.

Abby had a point, as much as his pride didn’t want to admit. That cycle brought him nothing but despair. It might work for someone else, but not him. When he thought of Alex, he wanted something they could build together, if Alex would have him. And as much as The Farmer wanted Alex to have him, he would need to let Alex go if the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Looking up at the approaching lights of Pelican Town, he decided. He probably wouldn’t confess tonight, but at the very least, he was going to enjoy himself tonight. Alex or not.

Blue, Orange, and Green stood hidden behind the roots of an old tree. Black ooze bubbled in the swamp around them. It grew slowly before popping loudly and spraying muck into the air. The ground on which they stood was the only muck-free zone for as far as they could see. A few trees dotted the area, but their arms were far too small to even attempt to swing between them. 

“Why did we even come here?” Green hissed quietly, glancing back and forth rapidly like someone was forcibly jerking the creature’s body back and forth. 

“This was your idea!” Blue bemoaned, shoving Orange forward and almost off of the small bit of land they stood on. “Now we’re stuck here, and nobody knows where we are.” 

“Okay, first off, you both agreed to this!” Orange defended itself once it had shot back to the safety of the tree roots. “And second, we can’t tell anyone else about this. Red and White still think they can help The Hero and The Athlete, but we’re going to fade away at this point! The Hero hasn’t completed anything we’ve asked him to lately and we’re losing our magic faster than before he came here.” 

“Well we are using our magic more than we usually did…” Blue muttered under its voice. 

“But Orange,” Green said. “Nobody has seen The Witch since she blew up that old tower after her divorce. Do you even know if she’s in this place? We stepped on that weird circle thing in the mountains and we haven’t seen anything living except for-”

As if summoned by Green’s words, a loud buzzing suddenly filled the air. The Junimo fell utterly silent and huddled closer together under the tree root. They held each other as tightly as their tiny arms would allow. Very little light managed to find its way into swamp. As the buzzing grew louder, an ominous black shadow grew in the distance. It grew rapidly, both in sound and size, until glinting green scales and long yellow whiskers became apparent. With almost lighting speed, the oversized dragonfly shot quickly past the Junimo's hiding spot. After a few moments, the buzzing lessened. 

“That’s the third time in the last five minutes.” Blue whispered, panic evident in its wavering voice. “That thing knows where we are!” 

“We need to get out of here, now!” Green whispered back. 

Orange brought one of its stubby little hands to where its mouth would have been, had it had one. “SHHHHHHHHHHHH!” It hushed the other two in a loud voice. 

The buzzing from earlier, while it had lessened, never completely left the area. No sooner had Orange shushed the other spirits did the green dragonfly charge back into view. Only this time the monster rammed directly into the tree above them. With a shuddering groan, the tree began to capsize into the swamp.

“WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIEEEEEEE!” Blue wailed heroically. 

The monster roared at them, circling the half-sunken tree once more before ramming it again. This time, the force of the impact sent the tree fully lurching into the muck below. The vine-like roots that clung to the mound of earth groaned with tension before snapping, each with a loud and fear-inducing ‘pop’ until the Junimos stood totally exposed. 

The three spirits sobbed violently, spouting incomprehensible apologies to one another as they held each other in what they thought to be their final moments. However, inaudible to the sobbing spirits was the sound of rapid footsteps splashing through the swamp’s muck towards them. As the dragonfly cried out in triumph and opened its jaw wide, ready to receive its meal, a smallish, humanoid shape charged into view wielding a burning torch in one hand. In one moment, the figure slammed its right foot down heavily, bracing itself and gripping the torch with both hands as it wound up its body, ready to strike; and in the next moment, the Junimos’ hero swung the torch forward, slamming the burning end directly into the monster’s open mouth and batting it far into the distance. The monster couldn’t even scream in pain as its body sailed through the air. It slammed into the side of a tree with a sickening crunch and dropped into the muck.

“Dag nab varmint messing in me mistress’ swamp!” The savior roared before hocking up a loogie and spitting at its feet. “Damn thing ‘re worse than silverfish, I’ll tell you.” 

“Oh, oh thank you so much!” Orange exclaimed. “We thought we were going to die.” 

The figure turned around, glancing about the swamp curiously. 

“Down here, down here!” Blue cried out. 

It looked down, beady red eyes peering around a long and wart-covered, green nose as it searched for the source of the voices. Swinging the torch closer to the mound of earth, the creature knelt down to get a better look at the Junimos. It wore a striking, red overcoat with bright yellow buttons that were sewn on with awkward craftsmanship, having no equal distance between each other. Dark violet fishing trousers protected the creature from the swamp’s filth, and the torch’s light dancing off of the silver of its horn-adorned hat. 

“Oh, you’re a goblin!” Green remarked. “We haven’t seen one of your kind in a long time!” 

“Well I ain’t seen one of yous, ah…” The goblin rubbed it chin as it racked its brain. “Ah, Jungillos?”

“Junimos!” Orange offered. 

“Junimos! I ain't seen one of yous in a while either.” The goblin said. “The mistress don’ really like ta looks at a yer kinds. Her nasty old ex was too obsessed with you, that he was.” 

“Your mistress?” Blue asked. “Do you mean The Witch?” 

“Yeah, yeah! She’s been kind to me, she has. I hurt my heads a long time agos and she made it better. See?" The goblin rasped his knuckles against his helmet. "Now I helps her guard her house, that I do. It’s not far from here.” 

“That’s perfect!” Green cheered, jumping up in the air triumphantly. “Can you take us to her? We need to ask her a favor.” 

The goblin frowned, sticking out his bottom lip. “Mmm, I don’t knows. She really don’ like visitors. Especially during her alones time. I don’ wants to have her mad at me.” 

“Oh, but that’s the best part,” Orange said. “You don’t have to tell her at all, and we won’t tell her either. Just bring up to her hut and you can pretend you never saw us.” Seeing that the goblin still frowned at them, Orange added, “Green, do the thing please.” 

“Yes sir!” Green waved its hands in the air and a moment later, a giant red bomb materialized above it. The fuse was already lit. 

“NOT THAT! THE OTHER THING!” Orange screamed. 

“Ohhhh, that thing.” Green waved its hand again, and the bomb was replaced with a black egg that was speckled with red dots. 

Orange exhaled heavily through its unmoving face before continuing in a slightly waving voice.  “We’ll even pay you.” 

“My favorites!” The goblin snatched up the egg, shoving it immediately into its mouth and biting down. Bits of the black yolk and eggshells spilled over his misaligned teeth and trickled down its chin as it chewed. A smile spread across its face. “Oh, how delicious those are. Crunchy, just like I likes it. Okay, I’ll take you to the mistress' hut.” 

The goblin reached down with its free hand, scooping up the three little spirits. Orange, Green, and Blue all settled into the crook of the goblin’s arms before their guide started their—hopefully—peaceful trek through the swamp.

Abby shoved her phone back into her dress pocket. “Okay, so Sam and Sebby are waiting for us by the food tables in the main square. Sam’s wearing a dumb scarecrow outfit and Seb’s in a skeleton outfit. Should be pretty easy to spot them.” 

The Farmer and Abby had just reached the edge of the town square, and he had to admit, he was rather impressed with the town’s decorations. Even remembering the stories that Haley had regaled him with during the summer couldn’t have prepared him for the extravagance. There were, of course, the overabundance of fake spiders, cobwebs, and scarecrows scattered about town, but just north of Pierre’s The Farmer saw what appeared to be a massive hedge maze. Fake monster limbs reached both through and above some of the hedges. He even spotted a colossal spider statue toward the northernmost part of the maze; rearing back on its hind legs and fangs opened wide, ready to tear into the first bird that dared to land in its mouth. Plus, there was a full moon overhead tonight, casting its pale light over the town like a haunted blessing.

As the two of them walked through the central plaza, The Farmer initially thought that everything was lit only by candle. The buildings in town sat with blackened windows, and even the lampposts had been creatively covered up—either with cobwebs and spiders, or ghosts and buckets. However, upon closer inspection of a torch they passed, The Farmer realized that they were actually just billowing cloth and orange light bulbs made to look like fire. 

Everyone in town was dressed up, which made The Farmer feel slightly self-conscious of his own outfit. He hadn’t even planned on dressing up until Abby arrived in her witch costume; that is, Abby instantly declared he couldn't show up without a costume and forced him into one. She took his oldest flannel shirt and splattered it with a mixture that contained water, corn starch, and food dye. Then she surprised him by flinging it all over his face. 

“There!” she had said, tossing him his now ‘bloodied’ shirt. “Instant undead zombie. Just, make sure you wash this as soon as you get home.”

They found Sam and Sebastian easily enough. The former was busy shoving pumpkin pie into his mouth while Sebastian was nursing a cigarette in one hand, looking out into the darkness. Abby sped towards them, making straight for Sebastian. Before the man could react, she snatched the cigarette from his hand and threw it to the ground. 

Grinding her foot on top of it, she gave her friend a hostile smile. “Sebby, what did we talk about?” 

Rather than looking annoyed, like The Farmer had expected, Sebastian gave Abby an amused smile. “Right, right,” he said. “You said that smoking is bad for me and I need to stop.” 

“Exactly. If you die because of this nasty habit, who’s gonna kick Sam’s butt in billiards?” 

“I’d be happy to step up,” The Farmer said, now reaching the trio.

“Hey, there’s an idea,” Sebastian smiled. “Maybe we could team up and really break Sam’s spirit.” 

Sam scoffed, continuing to eat his pie with as much annoyance as possible. “Wow, I have the greatest friends in the entire world.” 

As Abby turned to hug Sam and assured him that they were only teasing, Sebastian turned to The Farmer. “So, Abby said you wanted to hang out with us?” 

“Oh, ah yeah.” The Farmer felt very suddenly put on the spot. He hadn’t really engaged in much conversation with Sebastian before. In fact, The Farmer felt he was probably better friends with Sebastian’s mother, given how often he’d seen Robin with all the business he gave her. Sebastian had struck The Farmer as the stereotypical emo he’d known back in high school, but the other man seemed pleasant enough. Then again, most of the emos he’d known were also pleasant, so he shouldn't be surprised.

“Cool, cool.” Sebastian said. “I normally see you with Alex and Haley all the time. Did something happen between the three of you, that you’re suddenly not hanging out with them?” 

The Farmer felt like he’d been sucker punched. From Sebastian’s nonchalance, The Farmer didn’t think that he was trying to pry, but there was something in the way Sebastian looked at him. Like he was watching specifically for how The Farmer reacted. 

The Farmer’s bad habit reared its ugly head again, as a thousand stupid questioned raced through his thoughts. Did Sebastian know? Abby probably blabbed, didn’t she. But wait, she said Sebastian was bi, so maybe Sebastian was just probing, like other queer people did sometimes.  If he was, what made him start? Was it just how The Farmer acted, or had Sebastian been able to read his reaction back during the Valley Fair and put two and two together? Or maybe Sebastian thought he was cute?

“Oh, stop reading into things!” Abby said, suddenly launching herself from Sam to Sebastian, wrapping her arms around him and fake laughing. Sebastian looked at her with a raised eyebrow; a look that said if he weren’t reading into things before, he definitely would now. 

“Does it have something to do with why Penny and Haley choked me out during that party at your place a few days ago?” Sam asked, suddenly joining the conversation. 

Abby scoffed and quickly waved off her friends, her hand wagging back and forth in the air. “Guys! The Farmer just wants to hang out with us. Why does that mean he has an ulterior motive?” 

“Yeah,” The Farmer agreed quickly. Too quickly though, as Sam and Sebastian both gave him an inquisitive look that made him feel like he was sweating in his boots. So much for an evening of fun that Abby had promised. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Abby and just wanted to get to know her friends a little more.” 

“Ew don’t say it like that,” Abby said. “Makes it sound like you’re dating me.”

“You sound so repulsed by the idea,” Sebastian said.

“Well yeah, that’s cus The Farmer’s not into wo-” Abby cut herself short. Her eyes went wide with panic. “WOOOWW! Look at all that delicious punch that Gus made. I’m oh so suddenly thirsty. I’m gonna go that way.” 

Abby forcibly laughed her way out of the conversation, not meeting The Farmer’s strained glare. He had to fight the urge to throttle her and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, because she was being the exact opposite of subtle. However, Abby made sure to take the long path to the punch bowl to circumvent him.

“What was that all about?” Sam asked, watching Abby make her way across the square to the drink table. 

“No idea. But you know, I think I’ll join her.” The Farmer said, trying to sound as clueless as possible before marching over to her. He sidestepped Pam and a few others that were helping themselves to the lavish spreads of supernatural and spooky themed foods on the tables.  Making sure their backs were to Sam and Sebastian, he stepped up to the punch bowl right next to Abby.

“Okay, I am so sorry.” Abby said quickly, heavy emphasis on the ‘so.’ She handed him a punch-filled cup and flashed him a puppy-dog frown, complete with the sad look in her eyes to go with it. “I swear, I haven't said anything to them. I normally tell them everything though, so it almost just kind…slipped out?” 

The Farmer could only hold her frown with his own scowl for a moment before he dropped his anger and sighed as well. “It’s fine. I don’t really care who knows at this point anymore.” 

“But you shouldn’t be outed by your friends. That just makes me a shitty friend. Can I make it up to you somehow?” 

“Just abandon any schemes you might have had for me tonight, and let's have a good time, okay?” The Farmer smiled at her. “Remember, I just want a night of fun without being forced into a situation with Alex, okay? I need a break from getting fucked over by all this emotional turmoil.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather be fucked over by Alex?” Abby asked, a joyful snort escaping her lips as she teased him. Then, when The Farmer glared at her, added, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s a deal. Let’s get Sam and Sebby some punch too, then-”

“YO ALEX, HALEY!” Sam’s yell cut across Pelican Town’s square like a knife being plunged into The Farmer’s back. “Come hang out with us!” 

The Farmer slowly looked over his shoulder to Abby’s friends to see both Alex and Haley approaching Sam with confused expressions. “So,” he turned to face Abby with an angry smile. Steam practically flew from his ears.  His voice was deadpanned. “You sure they don’t know?”

“Okay, so I may have told Sam I wanted to hang out with all three of you tonight.” Abby admitted, giving him a guilty half-smile and a tilt of her head. “Just in case you wanted to get fucked over? Emotionally, or otherwise, by Alex.” 

The Farmer glared at her. “I hate you.” 

“You’ll love me soon enough?” Abby’s tone of voice seemed to say she felt guilty about this whole thing, but that she was also enjoying every minute of it. The two rejoined their friends, punch cups in hand.

“Why do you have to scream at the top of your voice like that?” Haley was saying when they returned. 

“Yelling is the easiest way to get your attention though.” Sam said. 

“You don’t have to be so crass about it,” She muttered. Then she turned her attention to The Farmer. “Well don’t you look terrifying tonight. With all that blood and those bags under your eyes, I assume you’re some overworked Joja employee?” 

“Actually, just an undead farmer,” The Farmer admitted. “But I wish I’d thought of your idea, it sounds so much better. I just threw on this old shirt and Abby helped me make the fake blood. As for the bags, I’m just tired.” 

“Maybe you could ask Emily to make your costume next year?” Alex suggested. “She made ours this year.” 

“You could join us with looking better than everyone else here,” Haley said. “Alex and I look pretty good in these, don’t we?” 

The Farmer didn’t really listen to the ensuing conversation, barely gleaning anything of note from Sam and Abby’s verbal combat with Haley. He was too busy being distracted by Alex’s damn costume. He was dressed up like a superhero, but which one, The Farmer couldn’t say. Alex wore a small red and dark blue mask over his eyes that rested on his nose and was held onto his face by a small ribbon that he tied at the back of his head, letting the extra fabric flutter behind him. His red cape also billowed slightly behind him in the wind, the bottom of it reaching the tops of his white boots. 

As The Farmer took in the rest of Alex’s outfit, he had to quickly raise his eyes back up to Alex’s, because the man was wearing spandex. Fucking blue spandex of all things. And Yoba damn did it look good on him. Thankfully the rest of the costume wasn’t was a mix of spandex and rubber that mimicked the usual overly-muscular look that most superheroes were known for. It was exaggerated, and The Farmer couldn't help but recall what Alex's actually body looked like under the fake abs.

“Well, are you?”

Alex’s voice snapped The Farmer out of his thoughts. The whole group looked at him, waiting and answering. The skin around his collar suddenly burned. “Sorry, what? I spaced out.” 

Sam laughed. “We’re asking if you’re gonna do the maze too. Though if you’re my competition, I think I’ve got this in the bag! You’re really out of it tonight.” 

Alex quickly countered him, claiming he was gonna win this year, but The Farmer once again wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts drifted…elsewhere. Specifically following the tight fit of the fabric around Alex's calves. 

An elbow jabbed painfully into his side as Abby materialized next to him. “Yoba almighty,” She said into her cup, so only The Farmer could hear her. “I know he looks nice in that, but could you make it a little less obvious that you were checking him out? And don’t try to deny it,” she added when The Farmer opened his mouth. “I thought you wanted to have fun tonight.” 

“Maybe I am having fun.” The Farmer shot back. 

Suddenly feeling as if he were being watched, The Farmer glanced over at Sebastian. The other man was taking a long drink from his cup, watching The Farmer’s conversation with Abby. But the second The Farmer caught his eyes, Sebastian turned back towards Alex and Sam’s argument about who was going finish the maze the fastest. 

Before he could think much more about it, he heard Lewis’ voice call out over the crowds. “Could everyone interested in the haunted maze this year please make their way towards Pierre’s?”

“Let’s go!” Sam declared, dropping his punch onto the nearest table and running off, Sebastian following. 

“He and Vincent really are related, aren’t they?” The Farmer remarked. 

Abby laughed, “Yeah, they most certainly are.” Then she turned to Alex and Haley. “Are you two coming?” 

“I’m not,” Haley said. “You take care of Alex for me. We all know he’s a really just a big scaredy-cat under that costume.” 

Alex rolled his eyes but walked over to Abby and The Farmer. “Are you joining too, farm boy?” 

The Farmer shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what’s happening.” 

“Of course he’s coming!” Abby injected, spinning The Farmer around and pushing him towards Pierre’s. Then leaning in slightly, “You’re going to have fun tonight. Just good old-fashioned fun. Remember?” 

The Farmer rolled his eyes, downing the last of his drink before turning to Alex. “So, why’s everyone so excited about a hedge maze?” 

“Cus it’s magic!” Abby answered. 

“There’s supposed to be a prize in the middle of it.” Alex added. “Plus, you get bragging rights for a whole year.” 

“Shane won last year,” Abby said. “And every time he gets wasted at the saloon, he won’t freaking shut up about it. It’s time to end that.” 

The three of them gathered with Sam and Sebastian in front of the general store. The Farmer gave a little wave to Penny, who was standing next to Leah and Elliot. Harvey and Maru were also there, while Shane was at the front of the group looking more excited than The Farmer had ever seen him previously. Vincent tried to enter himself into the contest as well but was yanked back by his mother. 

“Alrighty now,” Lewis called over the group. “Is everyone here? Good. Because I have some slight changes to announce this year.  This year, the maze is even bigger than before, so we’re going to be sending in everyone in teams of two. You’ll all be placed randomly within the maze an equal distance away from the prize.” 

“How?” Maru asked.

There was a sudden flash of purple smoke next to Lewis, and when it cleared, The Wizard was standing there. His arms were raised half-heartedly above his head and he wiggled his fingers at some glowing letters that spelled out ‘MAGIC!’ above his head.

The Farmer looked up at The Wizard incredulously as the other residents of Pelican Town looked on excitedly. “You have got to be kidding me," he said.

“No kidding here, I’m afraid.” The Wizard said. His voice was positively dripping in joy, a joy that by no means reached his face. He looked like one of those underpaid clowns performing magic tricks at a kid’s birthday who was too busy worrying about a missed rent payment than entertaining children. In other words, a natural performer. 

“I’ll be announcing the rules, so pay attention!” Lewis called again out over the contestants. “Thanks to our friend here, who sets up the maze every year, teams will be magically zapped into the maze at random. But, like I said earlier, they will be in evenly spaced intervals from the prize. Teams will be decided at random and are to await the starting signal before setting off into the maze.”

“Aw, we don’t get to pick our partners?” Sam pouted. 

The Wizard interlocked his fingers, stretching them in front of himself. Little pops and sparks of light flickered from his fingertips. “I’m afraid your partners have already been decided. And because we all know how this cliché goes, I think we know who the first team is going to be.” 

Before anyone in the plaza could question his words, The Wizard snapped his fingers. The Farmer found he was forced to blink, and when he did, his surroundings had changed. He stood upon a large, flat and oval shaped stone at the center of a t-shaped intersection. The hedge maze rose around him to nearly twenty-feet tall, surely another result of The Wizard’s magic. When he looked over at his partner, The Farmer felt his heart stop, and he cursed his luck. Standing on the platform next to him, in glorious red and blue spandex, was Alex. Of course it was Alex. The one person he didn’t want to be alone with tonight, would be zapped into a maze with him.

Before The Farmer could curse his luck further, Alex gave him a soft smile that shocked The Farmer's heart into stopping. It wasn’t the confident and stupid grin that Alex gave everyone. It was a smile that betrayed the genuine happiness behind those green eyes. This is why he didn’t want to be alone with Alex tonight. The damn guy didn’t even know what effect he could have on people.

“Well,” Alex said. “Looks like we’re gonna win this thing, right? I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be stuck in a maze with.” 

The Farmer had to look away. From the cheesy pick-up line Alex unwittingly dropped, to the outfit he wore, it was too much. The Farmer doubted he’d get away with sneaking looks at Alex now.  He prayed that the light from the moon overhead didn’t reveal the growing blush he had on his face. “Oh yeah? Why do you think we’ll win?”  

“You dive into the mines all the time, so I bet you’re pretty good at dealing with monsters, mazes, and all sorts of stuff.” 

“Well I’m not good with jump scares,” The Farmer admitted. He focused his gaze down the path to their right; from the dark, almost black, roots, and deep green of the leaves, the maze looked much more menacing than it did from the outside. He could even swear there were a pair of eyes staring back at him, just outside of the edge of the light. The eyes darted down a path to the side and out of view. The Farmer grimaced. “I get the feeling there’s going to be a lot of jump scares in here.” 

Alex didn’t say anything for a moment, so The Farmer chanced a glance back at the other man’s face. Alex was rubbing the back of his neck and was biting his bottom lip. For a moment, The Farmer could swear that Alex was nervous. But what would Alex have to be nervous about?

Then Alex said the last thing The Farmer could have ever expected. “W-well, if you ever get too scared, I-I could always hold your, your hand, right?” 

The Farmer stared at him, utterly dumbstruck. Alex’s eyes met his own, and when The Farmer recognized the nervousness behind them, his face filled with so much blood that he couldn’t even feel it. He turned his back for a quick moment, quietly slapping his hands against his face. Those words he just heard. That recognizable look that he’d just seen. Both had to be a joke. This was just a cruel, dirty prank The Wizard was playing on him. Or maybe in a few seconds he’d wake up and find out that Pam had actually just spiked the punch and he was passed out back in the town square. Maybe even, the lack of sleep was finally making him hallucinate.

The Farmer smacked his face one more then, then whipped back around to face a confused Alex. Alex jumped away, apparently having been just a few moments away from touching The Farmer’s back.

He met Alex’s eyes, and with a positively fluttering, breathless realization, The Farmer knew he could make out something familiar about the nervousness behind Alex.  He couldn’t tear his gaze away. This definitely had to be a dream. The Alex before him wasn’t the cocky but sweet man he’d been crushing on. This Alex was blushing furiously under his mask. Even in this low of light, The Farmer was sure of that. The crimson of his cheeks was distinctly different from the color of his mask. His eyes anxiously searched The Farmer’s own, jumping from one eye to the other, then down to his mouth and back up, searching anywhere for a reaction.

This Alex was an absolute wreck of nerves. 

“I-I mean, I am a superhero tonight! A superhero is supposed to, you know, protect people.” Alex fumbled over his words, confidence quickly fading as he went on. But enough remained for him to say one line.

“I wanna protect you, farm boy.” 

Alex never broke eye contact as he said this, and The Farmer felt suddenly light-headed. The only thing he could hear was the unified screaming of both his heart and brain. All thoughts in his head veered off course and slammed into one another like a flaming mess of an interstate pileup. The Farmer was barely aware of Alex at this point anymore, too focused on the dumpster fire in his own brain. His figment firefighters arrived at the pileup, which in turn, spontaneously combusted. As the firefighters began pulling his thoughts from the wreckage, the first one they pulled, kicking and screaming, made itself loud and clear.

HE’S FLIRTING WITH YOU.

At that point, The Farmer did the only thing sensible at that point; slap a giant ‘You’re overthinking it!’ sticker on that thought and ship it off to the hospital. It was clearly deranged and needed help.

Alex suddenly came back into focus, and in a panic, The Farmer realized he still hadn’t said anything. So, he scoffed, breaking eye contact and falling back onto the only defense mechanism he knew. Cynicism. “A superhero coming to rescue a zombie? I don’t think anyone would wanna read that story.” 

“I would.” Alex said, without hesitation. “Any story with you in it has got to be worth the read.”

The ambulance driving The Farmer’s thoughts to the hospital suddenly crashed, and it fought back every single attempt he made to slap more ‘overthinking’ stickers to silence it. But the thought would not be stopped, it couldn’t be stopped. It was contagious, quickly infecting all other thoughts in his brain until they all screamed at The Farmer in unison.

The realization that this was actually happening, that he was being flirted with, ravished his entire body, shooting his internal temperature into the triple digits.  Alex had to be doing this on purpose, surely nobody could be that oblivious to what they were saying.

He had to flirt back. That was the only logical course of action that his brain was allowing him in this moment. He had to see Alex’s reaction. He needed to see Alex’s reaction. He needed to know if Alex was doing this on purpose. He had to know if there was a chance.

The Farmer swallowed the hard lump that had formed in his throat, trying to summon his words. Yoba, why was this so much harder to talk to Alex than any of his other crushes? 

Eventually, he found his steadiest voice and said, “Well, at least I know I’ll be in great hands, or good hands. You’ve got good hands. And when you resume me- I mean, rescue me, f-from the jump scare!”

Yes, a one hundred percent brilliant execution. Now if only Yoba could take pity on him and smite The Farmer where he stood.

Alex’s smile widened, growing into his trademark grin until he burst out laughing. “I’ll take the best care of you. That’s a promise.” 

Even if Yoba had put The Farmer out of his misery, those words and the sound of Alex’s laugh would have brought him back to life. As Alex finally turned his gaze away and out towards one of the paths, The Farmer’s brain went into total shutdown. Fuck it all, he was going to have fun. He was having fun with Alex. He wouldn’t be bothered by all those ‘overthinking it’ stickers, now burnt to ash in his mind. If he was wrong, he’d be wrong in the morning. Right now, he just wanted to enjoy the feelings that pulsed through his heart with every beat. 

“So, what do you think the starting signal is?” Alex asked. 

Just as he finished his sentence, there was an explosive boom that went off above them. Both men looked up to see multi-colored fireworks shimmer on high, spelling out the words ‘PLOT CONVENIENCE’ against the star-studded sky. In the next moment, flashlights appeared in both of their hands

The Farmer cracked a half-smile. “I’m guessing that was it.”

Walking through the hedge maze was eerily quiet. No fake screams of terror or threatening growls tried to frighten them, there wasn't even an ominous wind to rustle the tops of the overgrown shrubbery . That's why Abby nearly had a heart attack when Sebastian asked the question. 

“Alex and The Farmer are totally hooking up, aren’t they?” 

Abby froze, not expecting Sebastian’s sudden inquiry. “Whaaaaat?” She turned to face him, putting a finger to her chin and tilting her head. Her actions were entirely too jerky, like a robot still trying to figure out how humans were supposed to move. “Why would you say that?” 

“Because the sexual tension between them was thicker than my mom’s guacamole.” Sebastian crossed his arms looking at her with a frown. “Don’t try to deny it. I’ve known you for years, and you can’t tell a lie to save your life. I just wanna know if I’m right.” 

Abby held her ignorance for all of two seconds and then deflated with a giant sigh. She dropped her limbs and hung her head in defeat. “I forget how much of a gossip you can be, Sebby.” 

He shrugged. “I don’t gossip, I just like knowing what’s happening. And those two have been acting weird for a while. First there was that time we delivered the couch to The Farmer’s place. I thought it was just the heatstroke, but I’m positive The Farmer kept shooting glances out at Alex while my mom was talking to him.”

Sebastian raised one of his hands, counting with his fingers every time he brought up an additional point. “Then, when Sam forced me to play gridball with them, Alex and The Farmer had this weird moment at the end of the game. They crashed and ended up on top of each other in one of those shoujo moments that you love so much, and I swear to Yoba they were two seconds away from making out. Then the day after that, when Vincent fell into the ocean, I could have sworn they were making out on the pier."

"What if I told you your eyes were playing tricks on you?" Abby said.

He ignored her, continuing his rant. "Then there was that thing at the fair. The Farmer looked like he’d just been kicked by a horse. He got this look on his face whenever Alex was brought up that was the same look my mom had on her face whenever she and my birth dad got into fights. Lastly, there was that time they disappeared during George’s birthday party. Penny and Haley nearly killed Sam for interrupting, and ever since then those two have been giving each other the bedroom eyes.” 

Abby raised her head just enough to glare at him. “You’re too observant for your own good.” 

“Well? Am I right?” 

Abby sighed again, straightening herself up and then marched over to him. She frowned, pressing her finger into his chest and put on her meanest glare in an attempt to be the scariest thing in this maze. “Okay, but you can't say or do anything about it, deal?” 

Sebastian raised his hands in defense, leaning back slightly. “I cross my heart and hope to die a death unrelated to lung cancer.” 

Abby threw her head back, sighed heavily, and uttered a silent apology to The Farmer. “Okay, they’re not hooking up, but The Farmer is like really, really, into Alex. And I think Alex is also really into him, but The Farmer doesn’t believe me. We had a whole drunken gossip session about it. Are you happy now?” 

A raised eyebrow and a half-smile appeared on Sebastian's face. “Yes, thank you.” Sebastian turned away from her and continued to walk down the path they were following. Abby followed, and when she caught up, Sebastian asked, “So they really aren’t together?” 

Abby groaned. “Yes, and when The Farmer told me about it, I got extremely frustrated. The Farmer keeps thinking that Alex is about to kiss him or something, but when he tells me about it, he swears on his life that he’s mistaken and reading into it too much. With all the shit that’s happened between them, if they ever got to the point of holding hands, I think his head might just explode. It’s like the second he gets a little self-confidence and tries to tell Alex about his feelings, something happens that pops his resolve.” 

“The male ego is the most fragile thing in existence,” Sebastian said wisely. “So, is that why you’ve been hanging out with The Farmer more often? You givin’ him pep talks or something?” 

“No, no, no,” Abby waved off his comment. “I have been helping The Farmer out with his mine runs, but I only found out about this dumpster fire romance like three days ago.” 

“Mmm,” Sebastian thought for a moment. “Maybe it’d be good for him to hang out with us a bit more. Have some friends that aren’t directly related to Alex. Give him some support and reinforce that ego of his.” 

Abby stopped in her tracks for the second time. “Sebby, did you actually just suggest we do something nice for someone?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with the emo I know and love? You hate meddling. Why do you wanna help them?” 

Sebastian smiled at her and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just...I remember how miserable my mom was in her first marriage and how genuinely happy she became after Demetrius. I think everyone deserves a little happiness like that if they want it.” 

Abby looked him up and down, distrust painted into her expression. “Okay, but we’re not going to do anything aside from offering The Farmer moral support. Anything else would just be juvenile. Got it?” 

“Got it.” 

“Oh, and wait for The Farmer to tell you he’s gay. I don’t want to be responsible for accidentally outing another one of my friends' sexuality, like yours.” 

This time, Sebastian stopped short. “What?”

The Witch leaned back in her rotting rocking chair, book in one hand and a finger on the other making small circles in the air. The smell of roasting bugs and firewood wafted around her. Floating in the space near her was a chipped teacup, filled with a black, bubbling liquid and being stirred by a small, silver spoon. She rocked back and forth slowly, taking her time to enjoy reading the page she was on. 

When she had finished, The Witch tossed the book into the air, which then flew to a nearby shelf and nestled itself upon it. She grabbed the levitating teacup and took a deep drink. She gave a happy sigh, enjoying the bliss of her life, before speaking. She did not look away from her brew as she spoke.  “So, do one of you care to explain why you broke into my house?” 

To her right, hovering about four feet in the air and surrounded by a shimmering purple mist, were Orange, Blue, and Green. Several sharp objects, from cutlery to a peeved looking broom and dustpan, also hovered around them. They were poised to attack the spirits if one of them so much as moved in the wrong direction.

“Y-your merciful words are far too kind for us, Madam Witch!” Blue squeaked. 

One of the knives sailed through the air, missing Blue’s body by less than an inch and embedding itself nearly handle deep into the floor below them.

“I trust you all know about my disdain for you creatures.” The Witch took a sip from her tea again. “Do not waste my time with useless pleasantries. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t grind you into dust and harvest your essence.” 

“We’re here to commission you!”  Orange said quickly. “We need a spell that only you can craft for us.” 

“And what spell would that be, little nuisances? Shall I turn some baby you found into a dove?” 

“No, it’s the forgetful one, Ms. Witch. We need a human to forget about another human.” 

The Witch stopped rocking in her chair and glanced over at the spirits with her dark and beady eyes. Her green skin was covered in warts, much like her goblin henchman. She was dressed in black from head to toe, with the only splash of color belonging to the brown of her belt. As she peered at the spirits, her eyes seemed to dance with slight amusement. “Junimos, up to mischief? Well now, I can’t say I’m not intrigued. Weren’t you spirits all cozy with the humans? Spouting all that nonsense about harmonious coexistence and such.” 

“We need to survive.” Orange spoke gravely. “There’s been a human in the valley that has agreed to give us crops and other things to survive, but...there’s a problem now.” 

“And that problem is another human?” The Witch cracked a toothy grin. “Now that’s certainly something I could relate to. Who are these two?” 

“The Farmer and The Athlete.” 

The Witch rose from her chair, setting the tea down on the nearby table. She hobbled quickly over to a shelf that was filled with dozens of jars and bottles of varying color and size. They ranged from pickled rocks to what appeared to be chicken toenail clippings. Grabbing several off the shelf, she began mixing small amounts of each of the jar’s contents together in a modest bowl before grabbing a black stone and grinding it all into a dust. The Witch, when satisfied with her work, ingested the powder. She smacked her lips, and after a moment, she began coughing violently until she hacked up a purple storm cloud. 

The cloud grew in size before them, churning and rumbling until an image eventually became visible within it. The Farmer and The Athlete walked along a hedge maze at a leisurely pace, arms swinging slightly at their sides and hands nearly touching. They appeared to be talking to one another, a smile on each man’s face, but the cloud was inaudible. 

The Witch wretched. “Look at them, so happy and in love. Are you sure these are the ones?” 

Orange moved its body up and down quickly in a nod. “After this, something bad is bound to happen. Something bad always happens. Then, The Farmer takes it so badly that his body shuts down. Entire days go by without him doing any work on his farm. And if he’s not able to do that, there’s no crops. No crops from the valley means no magic for us…” 

“And then we fade away…” Green added. 

The Witch rubbed her chin, looking back at the vision within the cloud. The two men turned a corner, and The Farmer pointed ahead of them towards a chest at the end of the path that radiated with a slight, golden light. She waved her hand through the cloud, dispersing it. “Alright,” she declared. “There’s nothing I love more than a little bit of heartbreak so let's chop to it.”

She clapped twice and the three spirits dropped out of the air. The objects holding them hostage also returned to their rightful places within the hut. Only the broom stopped to give Blue a dirty look before also returning to its post on the wall. The Witch hobbled over to the shelf her book had flown to, running a boney finger along the spines of the other books while mumbling the titles to herself. Eventually, she found what she was looking for, tapping the red spine of a leather-bound book three times. It gently flew off the shelf and landed on a nearby table. 

“Now, as for the price,” she said as she began flipping through the yellowed pages.

“We’ll pay you anything!” Orange said. 

“That’ll be thirty thousand gold pieces please.” 

“Except that.” 

The Witch spun on the spirits, growling. “What, you expected me to do this out of the kindness of my heart? Ha!” 

“We’re little blocky spirits!” Blue protested. “We’ve never needed to carry human money.” 

“Why do you even need it?” Green asked. “We never see you shopping at the village.”

The Witch scowled. “You don’t know what I do in my free time, nor am I going to tell you. Now get out, the lot of you!” The broom flew off the wall and wound itself up quickly, ready to take out the trash.

“Wait!” Orange threw its arms up in protest. “What if we bring you the ingredients?” 

The Witch eyed the spirit suspiciously for a few moments, then waved the broom away. “Fine, if you bring me the ingredients, I’ll wave the fee.” She waved her hand again, and a piece of parchment and a quill appeared in front of her. She jotted down a few things onto the paper, referencing the book as she did. After a few moments, she handed it to the Junimos. 

Orange took it, while Blue and Green leaned in to read.

“Hair from the one to be forgotten,” Blue said.

“A scale from the coldest fish to numb the pain.” Orange said. 

“The shared memory to be severed?” Green said.

“And finally, the shame of a weak and frail man?” They all read in unison. 

“What the heck!” Orange exclaimed. “What do these last two even mean? They’re way too vague.” 

The Witch huffed. “The last one is easy. You just need a pair of The Mayors lucky shorts.” 

All three spirits ‘Oh’d’ in unison. 

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Blue said. “He leaves those everywhere.” 

“But what about ‘The shared memory to be severed?’” Green asked. 

The Witch shrugged. “You’re the ones that want the potion made. You’ll have to find an item that symbolizes the bond between them. I’ll need something to physically break. It’s kinda metaphorical, but all magic is metaphorical.” 

“Let's start with the easy stuff.” Orange waved its arms, causing the paper to disappear. “Thank you, Ms. Witch! We’ll be back.” 

Orange scurried over to the open window they’d snuck in through and then jumped out. Blue and Green also thanked her before following suit. The Witch frowned at the windowsill and waved her hand. The window swung shut and locked itself. She never opened her windows. They must have done something to it. 

“Well that ex-husband of mine is right about one thing,” The Witch muttered. “Those spirits are a freaking nuisance.”

“I still can’t believe that The Wizard sets up a haunted maze that elaborate every year.” The Farmer remarked. He adjusted his grip on the golden pumpkin he cradled in his arms. 

“I still can’t believe that you knew part of the hedges were actually an illusion.” Alex said. “How’d you even come up with that idea?”

The two of them were walking towards the farm in high spirits. The Farmer told himself that Alex was just happy because they won; Alex told himself the same thing. Both of them wanted nothing more than for the night to continue with just the two of them to keep each other company. 

“I am full of useless trivia, Alex. And one such piece of trivia told me to always keep your hand on the left side of a maze when you walk through it. That way you never get lost.” 

Alex snorted. “You yelling and suddenly disappearing into the hedges suddenly makes a lot more sense. You didn’t know it was an illusion, you fell through it.” 

“Yeah, well I fell into this great prize.” The Farmer bit back the flirty line that popped into his head. He was going to enjoy Alex’s company. He didn’t want to push his luck too far. “You think this is actual gold, or did The Wizard just lie through his teeth and spray paint it?”

Alex rasped his knuckle against it. “If it is fake, that’s the hardest spray paint I’ve ever encountered. You sure you don’t want me to carry it?” He added, after seeing The Farmer adjust his grip yet again.

“Actually, that would be a huge help, thank you.” The Farmer let Alex take the pumpkin from him, enjoying the warm feeling of Alex’s fingers brushing against his own as the golden veggie passed hands. 

“No thanks required. After all, I am your superhero tonight.” Alex flashed his usual smile, and then confidently added a wink. The Farmer blinked at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. His brain was backfiring as usual, and he wasn't even sure if he was blushing or not. Now he knew that he hadn't imagined those cheesy pickup lines Alex had said back in the maze. 

Neither man said anything more as they walked, but both wore smiles on their faces and The Farmer’s house was just ahead. The Farmer unlocked the door, flipping on the lights and directing Alex towards the dining table. 

“Well, my job is done.” Alex turned to The Farmer, puffing out his chest and putting his hands on his hips. He flashed another smile and spoke in a mocking tone. “Farewell, citizen. My superpowers require me elsewhere. Stay out of trouble, okay?” 

The Farmer snorted, breaking into laughter. “Are you sure I can’t keep you for a moment longer? I should properly thank my hero, shouldn’t I?” He flashed a smile, daring to add a wink of his own.

Alex's face was unreadable, but there was a tinge of red to his cheeks as he stared at The Farmer. 

“It’s pretty cold out.” The Farmer remarked, turning away to hide his own embarrassment from being so direct. “Do you want some hot chocolate before you head home?” 

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thank you,” Alex said, looking around. "Um, do you want any help?"

"Nah, go ahead and make yourself comfortable," The Farmer said as he walked towards the kitchen. “You’re gonna love the way I make it.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re going to make it from scratch. You already make everything else from scratch and I don’t know how much more impressed I can be.” 

“It’s not from scratch, but it’s better.” The Farmer turned on a stove burner and then pulled a box of hot chocolate packages out of his cupboard. “I use two packs per cup.”

Alex couldn't look away from The Farmer as the man chuckled at his own joke. A wave of pure bliss enveloped him. He enjoyed this. He wanted more of this. He wanted to spend as much time with this other man as possible so that he didn’t miss out on any of the small pleasantries or bad jokes. He stayed standing where he was, watching The Farmer move about the kitchen and grab was he needed. His eyes followed The Farmer's hands, flashing down to the man's waist when he bent over and exposed a piece of skin. Thanks to Haley's teasing just a few hours earlier, dozens of scenarios on how this night could end for him shot through Alex's head.

Not a single one of them appropriate for children.

The Farmer looked over at him from pouring milk into a small pot. “You okay Alex?"

"Hm?" Alex realized he'd been staring and hadn't moved an inch since putting the pumpkin down. He quickly offered the first excuse he could think of. "Oh y-yeah I'm fine. My costume is just a little uncomfortable when I sit in it, but I'll be okay."

“You could wear some of my clothes if you wanted.” The Farmer said.

Alex’s heart skipped a beat. Why, dear Yoba, did everything that happened tonight feel like both a blessing and a curse? “A-are you sure?” 

“Yeah, why not?” The Farmer looked over at Alex, and when their eyes met, Alex found a bit of shyness in them. The Farmer looked Alex up and down a bit bashfully, only making Alex's heart beat faster at how cute he looked. “We’re about the same size, I think.  You’re only a little bit taller than me, but I have a few sets of oversized clothes that I use to sleep in. You should be able to find something that fits you.” 

“O-Okay then, thanks.”

"Don't mention it," The Farmer smiled before returning his attention to the stovetop. "Could you also bring me a shirt? I wanna change out of my undead one and the smell of ketchup is starting to get to me."

"Sure," Alex mumbled, trying to not set free the hundreds of butterflies that flurried about in his stomach. He felt light on his feet, like he was hovering slightly off the ground, and his heartbeat hammered against his eardrum. The Farmer didn’t say anything more, and Alex realized The Farmer had just given him permission to find the clothes himself. “It’s through there, right?” Alex asked awkwardly, pointing towards the bedroom. 

The Farmer looked over his shoulder and smiled over at him, putting a bullet of bliss through Alex's heart. “Well yeah. The only other door leads outside, dummy.” 

Alex wanted to hit himself. “Oh yeah, ha, ha, ha.” 

He wanted to hit himself again for that forced laughter. Alex made his tactical retreat to the bedroom, trying to look as natural as possible. He stepped inside and closed the door softly behind himself. With the door shut, he set his forehead against the wood and sighed.

“I’m so stupid,” he muttered. 

Alex turned around, flipping the light switch on as he did. The room that greeted him hadn’t changed at all from his visit a few days ago. Slightly tidier than before—the bed was made and the pile of dirty clothes in the corner was gone—but still a minimalist room. When he thought about it, everything else in the house struck him in the same fashion. Nothing The Farmer owned seemed to reflect his personality. From the table to the TV to the things in the kitchen, everything had a practical use. It made him sad for some reason.  

Walking over to the wooden trunk at the base of the bed, Alex knelt before it. Since the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a bed and a nightstand, he figured he had a pretty good bet on finding The Farmers clothes in here. He opened it, proving himself right, and found all The Farmer's clothes folded neatly on top of one another. His first instinct was to just grab whatever was on top, but maybe he should dig a little to find something better fit to him. 

As he was rifling through the trunk, he found a pair of baggy sweats towards the bottom and pulled them out. He set them down next to the trunk but noticed a flutter of white out of the corner of his eye. A photo had dropped onto the floor, picture side down. It must have been folded between the fabric of the pants he’d just grabbed. Alex reached out for it, curious about what the picture could be. But when he touched it, a rush of guilt surged through him. What if this wasn't something he was meant to see? He certainly knew he wasn’t the only guy who stored some questionable stuff in his sock drawer. 

Alex fought the urge to flip it over. What if it was something risqué? Would it give Alex an insight into what kind of men The Farmer was into? Maybe it was something innocent, a glance into The Farmer’s past or maybe his family? Or maybe it was something like an embarrassing photo from some past event he wanted to hide? 

Curiosity eventually won out. Alex flipped the photo over, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. The photo wasn’t anything like his imagination came up with. It was a picture of two people. An old man with gray hair, freckled, sun-kissed skin, and wearing a red and white bandana around his neck and a straw hat upon his head. The man was smiling at whoever was taking the photo, so big and toothy that his eyes were forced shut, and he held a sleeping boy in his arms. The boy, no older than four, none the wiser to the fact that his picture was being taken. 

Both individuals stuck Alex with a strange sense of familiarity, although he couldn’t say why. He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy for some reason, like he was on the cusp of remembering something important. He shook it off and replaced the photo at the bottom of the trunk. He didn’t want The Farmer to come and check up on him, only to find Alex holding what appeared to be his only item of sentimental value. 

Alex was then struck with an idea. Unfortunately, the outfit that Emily made didn’t contain pockets, so his phone was at home. As he undid his cape and removed his mask, he made a mental note to send Haley a text as soon as he got home.  He slid out of the rest of his costume as quickly as possible; trying, and failing, to not think about the fact that he was almost naked in The Farmer's bedroom as a blush rose to his cheeks. He pulled on the sweatpants, ignoring a certain part of himself that was beginning to overstep its boundaries, and then a tank top he’d found as well. The pants fit him just right, but the tank top was just a little too tight. It fit him snuggly, hugging his stomach and chest like a boa constrictor. 

A bad idea crossed his mind. And that was, maybe this tank top wasn’t a bad idea. He glanced over at the window, able to barely make out his reflection in the blackness of the glass. He’d already pushed the boundaries with The Farmer several times tonight. Hell, he’d straight up flirted with him back in the maze, and The Farmer seemed to have liked it. Maybe a shirt this revealing would tempt him.

Alex’s fingertips gently brushed across his stomach and up his chest, imagining for a moment, that it was The Farmer’s hand instead. Maybe The Farmer would even be as bold as to slide his fingers under the shirt, blessing Alex’s hot skin with the soothing touch of his own. Maybe The Farmer wouldn't stop there. Maybe he’d travel further south and…

Alex suddenly dropped to a squat, holding his blushing face with both hands and glaring down at the floor. 'No. No. No way in hell. Absolutely not. I am not going to start that train of thought.' Alex told himself. The Farmers bedroom was the last place he should entertain those kinds of fantasy's, especially since there was only one unlocked door separating Alex from the object of his affections. 

No matter how often he may have dreamed of it, he was absolutely not ready for that part of a relationship. And even if he was, how would they even do it? Alex knew of course, how two men would commit that act. But there was something that was always skipped over in those ‘informational videos’ that Alex totally didn’t look up in curiosity. Especially not in the last few weeks while thinking of The Farmer. 

He was more worried about the prep work that led up to the ‘informational videos.’ He knew there was prep work, but he didn't even know where to start. Would The Farmer know? Would The Farmer even have the stuff they’d need? Did The Farmer know what they would need? Surely he would, right? After all, The Farmer seemed to be far more comfortable and open with his sexual attraction than Alex had. Alex hadn't even given sexual attraction much of a thought before Dusty had accidentally given the other man a concussion and introduced him into Alex’s life. So wouldn’t The Farmer have done more research than him? Or maybe The Farmer actually had hands-on experience with this stuff?

“Alex?” The Farmer’s voice called, shocking Alex out of his testosterone-fueled thoughts like a cold bucket of water. “You finding everything alright?” 

“Yeah!” Alex’s voice came out at a slightly higher pitch than normal. He snatched the baggiest looking sweater out of the trunk and forced it over his head. He wasn't going to let his own horniness ruin his chances at spending time with The Farmer. “Just folding up my costume!” 

Alex did not fold up his costume, and instead threw it all on the floor next to the trunk. He pulled out the first shirt he could find, a baggy white t-shirt that Alex assumed was one of the Farmer's sleeping shirts, and left the room.

The Farmer was standing at the kitchen counter, pouring the heated milk into two mugs. Alex approached him, praying that his heart wasn't beating loud enough for The Farmer to hear. The Farmer stirred the drinks casually, not noticing Alex's approach. 

"I got you a shirt." Alex said to announce himself. It came out softer than he would have liked, but it beat having his voice squeak with nervousness like he was going through puberty again. 

"Thanks," The Farmer's eyes met Alex's when he turned around. Their hands brushed against one another, and Alex froze. The gaze between them held for only a few moments, but to Alex it felt like several lifetimes. He had time to take in each individual eyelash, to count the emerging freckles upon his cheeks, and Alex committed to memory every pigment of color in The Farmer's pupils. 

The Farmer broke eye contact first, looking down at the shirt with a hint of deliberation showing through his expression. Before Alex could ask if something was wrong, The Farmer reached behind himself, grabbed the collar of his own shirt, and slid his ketchup-stained costume off. 

Alex was sure he'd died in that moment. He couldn't feel himself breath, couldn't hear his own heart beat, and his brain felt like it was undergoing factory reset as he watched. His eyes were the only part of his body that seemed to work, shamelessly taking in every inch of exposed flesh. The Farmer dropped the soiled shirt into the skin and turn on the water to let it soak, paying no mind to Alex as he did. 

When The Farmer did turn back to face him, Alex surprised himself by realizing he was closer. When had he even taking a step toward The Farmer? He wasn't thinking right now, and that realization both terrified and excited him. Everything coursing through him was instinctual. He was fighting off several urges right now, but one rang out louder than the rest, and he was unable to look at The Farmer's lips. 

Kiss him. 

The Farmer took the shirt from Alex's hands and pulled it on, showing no sign that he'd noticed the internal war Alex had just waged with his carnal desires. The moment The Farmer had covered up again, Alex's senses came rushing back all at once. For several moments, he could think of nothing more than his desire to shove The Farmer up onto the countertop and lose himself exploring the man's body. Now he had to pretend there wasn't an X-rated movie theater in his head, playing all the scenarios he'd just imagined on loop.  

The Farmer walked over his fridge and pulled out a can of whipped cream. “You don’t strike me as the extra sugar type of guy, but do you want any?”  

Alex smiled, still attempting banish all previous thoughts from his mind. “Actually, I'd love some. And for future reference, as hard as it may be to imagine, even I can’t say no to a few marshmallows in my hot chocolate.” 

The Farmer swirled two short stacks of cream onto the top of their mugs. “Well too bad for you, I don’t have any. So you...” The Farmer spun on Alex, placing the tip of the can against the other man's cheek and leaving a dollop of cream on it. "Are just going to have to deal with it." He smirked victoriously, and went to return the can to the fridge.

Even though Alex wasn’t sure on what victory The Farmer had achieved, a single thought ricocheting around Alex's skull like a bouncy ball in a glass house. 

'He is so fucking cute.'

When the other man returned, he grabbed his own mug from the countertop and flashed Alex a curious glance. With a slight flush of embarrassment, Alex remembered that the cream was still on his face. He hurriedly wiped it off his face, ignoring a chuckle from The Farmer. Alex grabbed his own mug and moved towards the couch. 

"Do you mind if I turn off the lights?" The Farmer asked. "Keeps the power bill low, and I've already got a fire going." 

"It's cool," Alex said. "Besides, who doesn't like sitting in front of a fire on a cold autumn night?"

"People who hate the cold," The Farmer said, joining Alex on the couch, and sitting a respectful distance from him. 

"Well if you turn out to be one of those people, I could always lone you my superhero cape." 

The Farmer laughed, his grin spreading ear to ear, nearly forcing his eyes to close from his amusement. The Farmer pulled a knee up to his chest, resting his foot on the couch and his chin on his knee. He smiled at Alex over the rim of his mug, “Chivalrous and good-looking. Ever the superhero, even without the costume. Between rescuing me from that hurricane and comforting me after my mental breakdowns, you might just become a superhero I fall in love with if you’re not careful, Alex.” 

Neither man spoke, holding each other’s gaze. The only sound in the room was the gentle crackling of the wood on the fire. Alex couldn't breathe; he didn’t dare breathe. His brain had been reduced mush, all sections of rational thought utterly lost. Aside from reeling with the fact that The Farmer just called him good-looking, there were four little words that waited at the edge of his tongue, for Alex to speak them. 

‘I hope you do.’ 

The Farmer broke eye contact first, casting a melancholic smile to the fire. “Sorry, that was probably weird. I must be a lot more tired than I thought.” He stared into the burning wood, not looking back at Alex. 

Alex's heart faltered. He fucked up. Something in his gut told him that he did, hesitating like that. He wanted to say something, needing to keep the conversation going, or else this silence would grow until it crushed the room like an awkward elephant that had been dropped onto the house.

“You don’t really have anything personal in here, do you?” Alex said, grasping at the first straw he could snatch out of the disaster and raw carnage that was currently in his brain. 

The Farmer shrugged. “I guess not, why?” 

“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “It makes me kinda sad, you know? Like you believe you're not allowed to make this place...you? Sorry that's kinda weird to say, but does it make sense?” 

The Farmer was quiet. He continued to stare ahead at the fire, causing Alex’s brain to panic. He could have literally picked any other straw, but no, he had to pick the personal one that sounded like an accusation. 

“Actually, yeah it does.” The Farmer said eventually, snapping Alex out of his panic. “You're not entirely wrong. This place was my grandpa’s. He used to mark my height on the door frame at the end of every visit. It’s not there anymore though. It must have gotten replaced or painted over by Robin when I moved in. But...even with different furniture and a fresh coat of paint, I can still see my grandpa living here. Sometimes when I open the front door after finishing my morning chores, I half expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking us breakfast like the old days."

Alex's mother flashed through his mind, making his mood somber. "You miss him, don't you?"

"Every day." The Farmer took a drink from his mug, and then nodded to the TV. "He always let me watch TV when we ate breakfast, which made me ecstatic as a kid cus my parents never let me watch TV during meal time. We watched those mid-morning gameshows after he came back in from the fields and play along with the contestants. On days when it rained and we lost satellite signal, he'd pull out these old cardboard bricks and plastic cars from his childhood. We'd make houses from the bricks and then we'd take turns trying to knock down each others house with the cars." The Farmer snorted to himself suddenly. "Although, we had to relocate the demolition zone after I knocked a few into the fire and almost burned the cabin down." 

The two sat in silence for a moment, before Alex found the courage to reach out and touch The Farmer's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up painful memories." 

"I wouldn't say painful," The Farmer smiled at him, and then put his mug on the floor before he leaned deeper into the couch. "More like, bittersweet. A lot of my happiest memories are tied to this house, and my grandfather. I just... I feel like if I start filling it with my things, my memories, I’ll start to forget about the ones with my grandpa. I barely have any photos of him as it is.”

The photo from The Farmer's dresser suddenly clicked in Alex’s head, and the realization hit him. That was a picture of The Farmer when he was a kid, and his grandfather. He made a triple mental note to text Haley as soon as he got home. 

“Although, if I'm being honest, that's not the only reason,” The Farmer continued. “I think that part of me was trying to not bring anything personal into the house. I sold a lot of my stuff before I moved. Most of it didn’t mean much to me anyways. But…I think I was also trying to cut as many ties as I could. I think I was scared of putting down roots when I moved here. Maybe I didn’t want to commit to saying here…” 

“I’d like it if you did.” Alex said. The thought of The Farmer leaving twisted his insides, spurring him into find his voice. “I’d miss you if you left,” he said softly.

The Farmer closed his eyes and was silent. Alex feared that what he said was wrong, but then The Farmer leaned into him. It started with just his head on Alex’s shoulder, but after a moment of hesitation The Farmer shifted slightly, wrapping his arms around Alex’s own arm to get into a more comfortable position. His warmth soaked into Alex’s body. Like waves of pure joy slowly seeping into every one of his pores. 

“Is this okay?” The Farmer asked softly. 

Alex didn’t need to think about his answer. He didn’t even remember what he’d said in response. He trusted The Farmer, and in this moment, he felt that he knew with certainty that The Farmer trusted him too.  If he ever made the other man uncomfortable, The Farmer would tell him. 

So, Alex set his untouched mug down on the floor, and shifted to pull The Farmer into a full embrace. Alex leaned into him and the other man’s hair tickled at his nose. The smells of the farm filled him: the sharp scent of cut hay, the earthy smell of his sweat, even the slightly pungent odor of the animals, they all made up a scent that belonged only to The Farmer. The man that held so much of Alex's heart without even knowing it.  

The Farmer didn't hesitate as he wrapped his arms around Alex's waist, his face burred in the crook of Alex's neck. They eventually shifted to a position with The Farmer laying on top of him, arms wrapped around each other. They didn't say anything, simply continued breathing each other in as they cuddled on the couch.

Alex’s eyelids felt suddenly heavy. The warm embrace of The Farmer and the crackling of the fireplace tempted him, lulling him to sleep. He didn’t want to fight it. He knew he shouldn’t stay and would get an earful from his grandparents for not telling them where he was. But when would he ever have this chance again? Laying on the couch like this, he’d never felt more comfortable or safer in his entire life than he did right now. Rational and willpower pushed aside, Alex started to give in when he heard The Farmer mutter one line that sent him into blissful dreams.

“I’d miss you too.”

Alex jerked awake suddenly to a nearly pitch-black room. The embers within the fireplace glowed with a weak, red light and warmth stirred at his side. A small prick of pain on the back of his head had woken him up, but he was quickly distracted from it by the sound of shattering glass and a hissing cat. 

The Farmer swore from on top of him, jumping fully awake at the sounds. His warmth left Alex, leaving a stabbing cold where he'd lay. A few moments later, light flooded the room as The Farmer flipped the light switch. The shattered remains of a glass cup lay on the kitchen floor. Saber was also in the kitchen, tail whipping back and forth feverishly as he perched at the edge of an open window. The cat’s body was poised for battle, back arched and legs wound up to spring. Saber hissed again into the darkness.

“Saber!” The Farmer marched across the room to the kitchen. “What the hell did you do?” 

“Meow!” Saber looked to The Farmer, relaxing his body, but his tail continued to whip back and forth. 

“You made a mess is what you did.” The Farmer scolded his cat. He side-stepped the broken glass and then scooped up the animal into his arms. “What have I told you about the counters?”

“Meow.” 

“That’s right, you’re not allowed on them anymore. Not since the bok choy incident.” 

Alex smiled sleepily at The Farmer, watching the other man scold his cat as if Saber actually understood him. The Farmer opened his bedroom door and gently tossed Saber inside, closing the door behind him. He caught Alex’s gaze, and said, “Naughty cats get grounded and sent to the bedroom as punishment.” 

“I’m not criticizing your parenting techniques,” Alex said. “I just thought it was funny the way that you talk to him.” 

The Farmer smiled. “Glad I can offer some amusement to your life.” Then he glanced up at the clock. “Holy shit, is that the time? Your grandparents must be worried sick about you.” 

Alex shrugged, trying to not think of the yelling he'd hear from George when he got back. That was a problem for future Alex. Present Alex desperately wanted them to slip back into whatever it was they were doing before. However, he felt that the opportunity for that had shattered along with the glass, slipping away with every second. 

But hell if he wasn’t going to try and fight for it again.

“I’m a grown man." Alex said.  "They won’t worry about me. I can stick around and help you clean up that glass.” 

“I’ll be fine, but thanks.” The Farmer said. “Besides, I don’t wanna risk Evelyn not sending me any more cookies because I’m making her worried sick over her grandson. I think keeping you out until almost three in the morning might put me on her naughty list.” 

Alex tried not to sigh as he stood, stretching his limbs as he did. “Oh, I think you have to do a little more than that to get on her bad side. Especially since you gave her all those beats a few weeks ago. I think that landed you permanently on her good side.” 

“Sorry Alex, but I’m not risking anything,” The Farmer said, sleep laced into his voice. Alex watched the man closely, wondering if it was shame or embarrassment that was beginning to creep into his expression. “Her cookies are just that good.” 

Alex felt the joy drain from his as he started running out of excuses he could use to stay longer. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you then.” 

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell her I was the one that kept you out all night.” 

“Deal.” Alex forced himself to keep his smile up. Another idea straw popped into his brain, and he snatched at it. “Hey, so since you’re going to have a lot of free time with winter coming up, do you think we can do this again sometime?”

The Farmer tilted his head, a sly smile on his face. “What, falling asleep on the couch together?” 

Alex almost said yes but forced himself to bite his tongue. “Well, more like hanging out in general. But preferably before midnight, so we don’t fall asleep again, you know?” 

There was a small flicker of hesitation that crossed The Farmer’s face, but that flicker passed quickly, turning into a sleepy, but small smile. “I mean, I still have the animals to look after, but yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Great!” Alex felt the confidence surge through him, using the energy to pull himself up. “It’s a date then. I mean, I’ll text you a date!” He quickly corrected himself. That confidence quickly transformed itself to embarrassment once again. “Or you can text me a date. A date when you’re free. When you wanna hang out, okay?”

The Farmer smiled at him. "It's a date then."

After a quick good night, and then after an awkward exchange, The Farmer stood alone in his living room with a maelstrom of emotions swirling inside of him.  He'd wanted Alex to stay. In fact, when Alex returned a minute later after saying good night the first time to announce he'd forgotten his costume, The Farmer almost did ask him to stay. But as it was, he'd already taken enough liberties with Alex tonight. The Farmer didn't want to push his luck.  

He wasn't expecting to open up to Alex like he had tonight, but there was one piece of information he'd omitted. Normally, coming back to the house was a cold experience. Back in the city, he was used to coming home to an empty apartment because that's how it had started. But coming back to his grandfather's cottage, which had been warm and open when he was alive, to find it empty was just hallowing. The only solace he'd found was the warmth that his bed could offer him.

Tonight however, he didn't feel that same coldness while he was alone. It was like a new fire had been struck within the house.

He ignored the broken glass, walked over to the couch and laid down. The residual heat from where he and Alex had been sleeping moments before still remained, and The Farmer reveled in it. Alex hadn’t pushed him away. Alex pulled him closer. He chose to stay with The Farmer, and even felt comfortable enough to cuddled and fall asleep with him. The dark, ‘What if’ questions couldn’t change this memory. He refused to let it change his perspective on this. He rolled onto his back, letting his fingers drift lazily across the fabric of the couch.

Alex had been receptive to most of his advances tonight. Hell, he had literally stripped his own shirt off in front of the man, and assuming he wasn't misreading it, The Farmer could have sworn there was a bit of excitement behind Alex's eyes. The only sour part of tonight was when he made the 'falling in love with a superhero' comment. Alex's silence wasn't necessarily a bad thing, right? The Farmer had been hoping for some kind of response, but considering how the two of them ended up, maybe he didn't need a response right now. Maybe it was okay to stay this way for a while.

The Farmer could stay on the couch for long, as a howling wind reminded him of the open window and broken glass still in the kitchen. He rose reluctantly, knowing that the already fading warmth would probably be gone by the time he finished cleaning up. 

Crossing to the kitchen and closing the window, The Farmer triple checked that it was locked this time. “I swear, these window locks have a mind of their own,” he said to himself.

Outside the house, Alex was still standing on the front porch with his back to the door. His heartbeat thundered happily in his chest while he busily committed everything that had just happened to his memory. Sure, he’d been a fumbling and embarrassing mess at the end, but he wouldn’t trade the experience for anything else in the world. He wanted to ingrain every second, every feeling, into his very being. 

Once done, he launched himself off the porch, landing with both feet spread wide apart and throwing both hands into the air in a silent victory. After a few moments, Alex let his arms drop and cast one final glance back at the house before setting off for home. There was a skip to his step and joy in his soul.

On his way back into town, there was a flash of light that caught Alex’s eye. But when he glanced over to the broken-down bus, he saw nothing. He continued on, thinking nothing of it. Besides, why would a bus that hadn’t moved in several months even be glowing blue and green? 

Chapter Text

Year: 01

Season: Winter

Date: 05

The Farmer blinked. He had to be dreaming. Just yesterday, he’d stood in this craft room, handing off a Winter Yam to Green. That craft room had been decrepit and decaying and the wooden floorboards were infested with termites the size of mice. There was so much mold and mildew that The Farmer often feared he spent too much time in this place without proper protective gear. Now, those floorboards looked brand new, covered by a fresh, never-even-stepped-on purple shag carpet. The peeling wallpaper had been updated to a ‘90s retro-looking one, covered in various neon-colored geometric shapes, and then all new cabinets and light fixtures that hadn’t previously existed now adorned the walls. Even the broken glass of the rooms windows had been cleaned up and even the frame had been replaced.

“What the hell is going on?” The Farmer said. He blinked repeatedly, rubbing his eyes every time he did as if the action might wipe away the new room before him. 

“Come, come!” White gleefully proclaimed from upon the newly created table that sat towards the back of the room. Several of the Junimos swarmed The Farmer and pushed him towards the red armchair next to it. 

He was too shocked to resist their pull. Falling into the armchair was like being dropped onto a cloud. Dumbstruck, all The Farmer could really do was run his fingers along the soft fabric that had been used to reupholster the chair. The last time he’d seen this thing, the wooden feet had rotted away and a spring was sticking out of the center of the cushion; not to mention the fluff of the chair had been eaten away by time and nature. 

“Holy shit,” The Farmer swore softly after pinching himself. “This can’t be the same chair. It looks like something I could find at an unclaimed freight store.” 

“It is the same chair!” White boasted. 

“What do you think of what we did with the place?” Red asked, hopping onto the table next to White. 

The Farmer took in the rest of the room. There had previous been a bookshelf lying broken upon the floor; its books had been stacked in various piles around the room, but thanks to water damage they'd all been rendered illegible. Now, the bookshelf sat proudly against the wall with each and every one of its books in pristine condition. There was a mound of colorful cushions that sat piled high in one corner along with a plethora of painters’ supplies. In the opposite corner sat an old-fashioned spinning wheel with a basket of yarns and threads, and there were potted plants dispersed intermittently as decoration. Aside from a few more chairs and a small table stacked against the final wall, the room was mostly open; perfect for a large group, or even a class, of people to craft. 

“The craft room is actually a craft room,” The Farmer finally said. 

“Exactly!” White said. 

From the doorway, Orange huffed loudly. “Waste of magic,” the spirit muttered under its breath. Green and Blue stood next to Orange, the only three Junimos not entering the room. 

The Farmer turned to the small spirits on the table. “How? How did you...what the hell happened? I gave you a Crystal Fruit and suddenly there’s this white flash and then, this!” The Farmer threw his hands at the air around him. 

“That was my magic.” The pride in White’s voice was obvious. “By completing the first of these lists, you gave me enough energy to repair this room!” 

The Farmer felt his eyebrow twitch. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He took a deep breath before looking up at the spirits with a strained smile. His eyebrow twitched again. “So, if you’ve been able to do that from the start, why the hell have I been repairing the community center by hand these last three months? Couldn’t I have just bought everything on your lists instead and this whole place would have been up and running in a matter of days? Not months?” 

“Oh, no, no, no. Farmer, you have to understand, your gifts have been giving us strength. They come from the valley themselves, harvested by human hands and willingly given to us spirits. Those gifts are filled with far more magic and love than anything else could be. That’s what gave me my strength back.” 

“Plus, you kept the building from collapsing in on itself,” Red added quickly. “We wouldn’t have been able to do that.” 

“It wasn’t just me that got a new surge of strength,” White said. “Everyone is benefiting from your gifts. I might be limited to this building, but the other spirits should be able to go out and repair things in the valley.” 

The countless Junimo that swarmed the floor around them all cheered gleefully in agreement. “The bridge!” One of them cried out. “Let’s go fix the bridge!” Other Junimo voices cheered in agreement, and the little spirits scurried out of the building as quickly as possible, leaving The Farmer alone with Red and White.

The Farmer leaned back into the armchair again, which was far too comfy for his own good. He felt himself sink a good few inches into the comfortable fluff and thought that it would be scarily easy to fall asleep in it. It was just that nice of an armchair now. He took a few moments to process this new information before standing up and walking towards the door. “Okay, it would have been helpful to know about this before, but I guess it can’t be helped.” 

“Where are you going?” White called after The Farmer. 

“Grabbing my bag,” The Farmer called over his shoulder. He stepped out into the hallway, realizing just what a difference the new room was compared to the building. The musky and earthy smell that assaulted his nostrils was a stark difference from the new carpet smell in the craft room. If he could get the Junimos to do that to every room, he might just fulfill his vow to screw over Morris. There’s no way that Lewis would sell the community center to the little Joja gremlin if the building were restored to its former glory. 

Walking through the entrance hall, he couldn’t help but notice the plaque hanging above the fireplace. It had been unremarkable before, powdered in dust and covered in indentations where previous decorations must had adorned it. But now, one of those indentations was filled with a brightly polished golden star. Shoving that tidbit into the back of his mind, he continued to his backpack that he’d left by the front door and dug through it. While he did, he felt a small tug at the back of his shirt, followed by the familiar sensation of a Junimo scrambling up his back. 

“What are you doing?” Red asked upon reaching The Farmer’s shoulder. 

The Farmer pulled a pen and paper out of his bag, flipping to a new page. “Taking inventory of what else you guys need. I’ll admit, with everything going on between my Joja debt and my dumb emotions, I haven’t been taking your lists seriously. But now that I know what happens when I finish one, I think I should give them all some more attention.” 

“Perfect! ‘Cus we do have a few more to show you now.” Red admitted, “We just didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

There was a sudden and loud snap in the middle of the entrance hall. The Wizard had materialized in the room, robes barely pulled on and missing his usual hat. He looked around frantically until his eyes fell upon The Farmer. He rushed the other man, alarming The Farmer and giving him no chance to escape. He grabbed The Farmer by his shoulders, violently so. Red took this moment to leap from The Farmer’s shoulder and disappear somewhere else into the building. The Wizard paid the Junimo no mind.

“What’s happening?” The Wizard demanded. “There was a sudden surge of magic in this area. One I’ve never felt before. Was it you?” He looked around once more, almost looking disappointed. “Is there no one else with you? You’ve been spending time with that one purple-haired girl a lot lately. I thought it might be her.” 

The Farmer thought it odd that The Wizard knew about his friendship with Abby, weirder still that Abby was the first person that came to The Wizard’s mind, so The Farmer also tucked that tidbit away in the back of his mind. “No, it wasn’t me,” he said. “It was the Junimos. I just finished the first list they gave me.” 

The Wizard’s expression became crestfallen and he released The Farmer. The Wizard combed his hand through his hair to smooth it slightly and adjusted his robes more accordingly. “Ah, I see. Well, you certainly took your time doing so. Then again, I suppose it can’t be helped. You were still learning how to play the game.” He continued one, ignoring the puzzled look that came over The Farmer's expression. “Very well, why don’t you tell me what happened.” 

The Farmer raised a curious eyebrow. “Why?” 

“Did you forget? I’m studying these spirits. And despite my best attempts to learn more about them, they seem to still resent me for some reason.” The Wizard looked over his shoulder. Orange, Green, and Blue were gathered at the edge of the hallway to peer at him. When he caught them, they made a sound akin to blowing a raspberry and disappeared back into the craft room. “Plus, I’ll be out of town until spring. I have business to attend to.” 

The Farmer rubbed the back of his head, sighing slightly. “Fine. I suppose you helped me out before. But it’ll probably be easier to show you than explain it.” 

Together, the two walked off toward the craft room. Red watched the two humans disappear from its hiding spot in the rafters. But it was quickly distracted, spotting Orange, Blue, and Green sneaking out one of the broken windows in the opposite direction the rest of the spirits had run a few minutes ago. Those three had been out several times for the last few days. Just what were they up to?

After The Wizard finally snapped out of existence to do Yoba knows what, The Farmer gave a heavy sigh of relief. He'd felt like a suspect under a spotlight in one of those old black and white detective movies. He had no idea why The Wizard was so desperate to learn everything he could about Junimos. From his own experience, they were just slightly stupid and overly excited spirits that he’d accidentally adopted.

Neither White nor Red called out to him after The Wizard had gone, so The Farmer took that chance to excuse himself before any more of his time was eaten up.  He hastily pulled his coat and knit hat on before exiting of the community center. The snow crunched softly under his boots, and the cold air started nipping at his nose. It snowed back in the city, but not nearly as much as it did out here. For the first two days of the month, it had snowed continuously without so much as a ten-minute break. The wonder and beauty of waking up to freshly and still falling snow had faded rather quickly for him though. While staring out at the picturesque landscape and waiting for his breakfast to cook, The Farmer realized he’d have to dig out a path to the barns so he could feed his animals.

He got nearly halfway to the chicken coop, before his back and arms ached painfully and all the sweat made his clothes start to stick to his skin. He regretted telling Robin to build it and the barn basically on the other side of the farm. It may have made sense when he was drafting farm layouts in his notebooks. He'd wanted to avoid having to smell animal dropping going ripe in the summer, but failed to consider the ice age he’d have to deal with during winter. As she shoveled, he debated the choice in his head until finally deciding that shoveling snow was the lesser of two evils. 

He tangoed with the thought of giving up for a few hours to take a break, but he’d already overslept as it was. He had five chickens and two cows now, and The Farmer would swear that they held grudges longer than any human. He'd once skipped feeding the chickens during a thunderstorm a few weeks ago, and his hens refused to lay any eggs for days. 

Closing the door of the community center behind him, The Farmer hiked the collar of his jacket up a little higher. It didn’t just snow more in the valley. It was colder too. He would need to stop by Pierre’s tomorrow and see if he had any scarves for sale. He honestly didn’t know how Haley did it. The Farmer spotted her walking through town in her usual outfit, legs uncovered and exposed in her skirt, with only a light jacket thrown around herself. He felt his own legs get frostbite from just looking at her. 

Above him, the bleak, orange, evening sky was rapidly receding to the black of night. The Farmer’s stomach rumbled, reminding him that he had spent too long indulging The Wizard’s inquiries and not enough time paying attention to his own needs. His stomach drove him towards the Stardrop Saloon. For the first time in a while, he didn’t feel guilty about ordering Gus’ food instead of cooking for himself; and that was all thanks to that golden pumpkin. 

The day after the festival, The Farmer had examined his prize a bit more thoroughly. He brought it to Gunther, who recommended The Farmer get the pumpkin appraised and see if it really was gold. After bumming a ride from Lewis into the city, The Farmer was pleasantly surprised to find out that the pumpkin was in fact solid gold. The appraiser herself was so mystified by the pumpkin that she offered to buy it off The Farmer for a hefty sum, which was accepted with almost no hesitation. Lewis pestered The Farmer on the way back to Pelican Town, telling him he should have held out for a higher price, but all The Farmer could think of was paying off his damn debt that Morris had rung up for him. It wasn’t enough to completely pay off the debt, but it gave him a lot of breathing room. 

“My dear farmer! How wonderful it is to see you.” 

The Farmer froze, swearing colorfully in his mind. He was two steps away from the Saloon's front doors. Maybe he should pretend that he didn’t hear anything go inside anyways. But if he wanted to do that, he shouldn’t have frozen like he did. Condemning himself to his fate, The Farmer joylessly turned to the gremlin in the red bowtie, doing his best to not scowl.

“Morris.” The Farmer regarded the shorter man. He noticed black bags under Morris’ eyes and the start of several grey hairs near his ears. “I see you’ve aged horribly.” 

Morris laughed, clasping his hands and rubbing them together and rubbing them together like a horsefly. “Oh, your jokes have been missed, my dear farmer. I’m afraid I’ve missed you around town as well. I haven’t seen you in almost a month. How are you?” 

Their last encounter played out in The Farmer's mind, when he’d been two seconds away from smashing in Morris' nose about his bill. “Cold and hungry,” he said shortly. “So I hope you’re not here to bother me for much longer. And if this is about my bill, you should know I’m already several months ahead on payments.” 

Morris’ smile grew, unnerving The Farmer. “My dear farmer, I do believe we have been entirely out of step with one another since we rekindled our acquaintanceship after both arriving in this town.” 

The Farmer snorted. “The roads we’re walking on aren’t even in the same country. Are you telling me that you just noticed”? 

“Why yes I have. I know you have your grievances with Joja, though I cannot fathom why, I do hope you realize that I am simply an employee, nothing more. I care for my fellow man and woman just as much as you do.” 

The Farmer gave Morris an incredulous look, feeling like that one internet meme with a blue ‘X’ and the word ‘Doubt’ next to his head. 

“I do worry for you, my dear farmer. Though you and I don’t live in the same town, I do work here, and I like to believe I’m a small part of this beautiful community. That’s why I take little walks through town every night before I drive home. Just to ensure nobody requires assistance. And on my walks, I’ve noticed…” Morris trailed off, glancing in the direction of the community center.  Even though you could only see about the roof from here, a dark twinge of fear crossed his expression. 

“What I’m up to in my own free time is my business,” The Farmer said. His stomach rumbled again, growing impatient. Food was so close, just on the other side of the door behind him, so why wasn’t it being fed?  He excused himself from the conversation but paused—to the distraught of his stomach—and turned to Morris one more time. 

“You know,” he said to the Joja gremlin, “You should really find something else to do with your life Morris. You’ll probably end up happier for it.” Without waiting for the other man’s response, The Farmer pushed into the front door, allowing the warmth of the Saloon and the smell of freshly cooked food to wash over him. With the doors shut behind him, The Farmer sighed heavily. “I could really use a drink.”

“Whoa, what’s with the party?” 

The Farmer looked up from his notebooks and scribbles to Abby’s voice. Unsurprising, she was flanked by her usual friends—or as she sometimes called them, her lackies—Sam and Sebastian. But more surprisingly, they were accompanied by Penny. Each of them held a drink in their hands, and The Farmer thought with some amusement that they resembled a squad of friends at a college party. All they were missing were the red, plastic cups.

“What party?” The Farmer asked. 

Abby gestured to his area. The Saloon hadn’t been busy when he’d arrived, so The Farmer had happily claimed a booth. It was cluttered with several plates of half-eaten appetizers, empty glasses, and a barely touched burger. He'd gone a little trigger happy with his new spending cash; impulse purchases that Gus was more than happy to supply. Papers he’d torn from his notebook were crumbled and discarded around the table, but a few had found their way onto the floor. 

Sebastian slid into the seat opposite of The Farmer, uncrumpling one of the papers and examining it. It had landed in some spilled water and resembled a shirt that had been left in the washer for too long. Sebastian asked, “Are you taking math lessons or something?” 

The Farmer sighed, closing his notebook, and resigned himself to conversation as the other three slid into the booth too; Penny on his side, Abby and Sam joined Sebastian on the other. He probably needed a break anyways.

“No,” he said answering Sebastian’s question. “I’m crunching numbers for the farm. Trying to brainstorm the fastest way to pay back my debt to Joja now that I have only my animals and foraging skills to make me money until spring comes again. Seeing what I have to cut back and so on.” 

“That sounds like a bummer,” Sam said. He was already helping himself to some of The Farmer’s cold fries. 

“Yeah, well Morris is kind of a bummer. He just has that effect on people. Stupid gremlin caught me before I got here and tried talking to me.”

“What’s your deal with him anyways? I can’t remember a time when the two of you were ever on friendly terms.” 

“Morris used to be my boss,” The Farmer admitted. “I used to work for Joja’s corporate office in the city. One day when he was firing someone, I realized I’d had enough and walked out. Funny enough, that was the same day I discovered I inherited my grandpa’s farm. So, I moved out here to try and get a fresh start.” 

Sam made a disgruntled sound, like he was trying to sympathize with The Farmer. “Well that’s shitty luck. Running into your old boss in your new town.” 

“That almost sounds like it’d make a good pilot episode for a rom-com,” Penny mused. 

The Farmer retched. “Okay, one: I can absolutely get a man better than Morris. Two: I don’t imagine he’d think of it that way either. I can only guess Morris’ boss was upset that he couldn’t control his employee, aka me, and got demoted to store manager. Though they probably worded it specially, so he felt like it wasn’t actually a demotion and that he was doing them a huge favor or something.” 

Sebastian perked an eyebrow up, something that was missed by The Farmer. 

Abby laughed. “Well in my opinion, you sound like you’re the protagonist of one of those farming games. You know, like in Harvest Factory of Rune Moon.” 

“Or Seasons of Stories.” Penny offered. “I actually played that one a lot as a child.” 

The Farmer snorted. “Yoba, I wish I were one of those protagonists. They don’t have to worry about their animals getting sick and dying, or the taxes and tariffs on their crops, or even trying to sell anything before it goes bad.” 

“Being a video game protagonist does sound nice,” Sebastian said. “And if you liked someone, you could just give him an egg every day until you were married.” 

The Farmer’s eyes snapped to Sebastian, not missing the quick elbow jab from Abby and the panicked expression on her face. His glare grew the more she began to sweat under his stare. 

But surprisingly, it was Sam that spoke before Abby. “Ahaha, don’t you mean ‘give her an egg every day,’ Sebastian?” 

“Oh, did I say ‘him?’” Sebastian said coolly, without a care in the world. He leaned his head into one hand, his elbow on the table. “I guess I did. Sometimes I forget everyone isn’t bisexual like me.” 

An air of silence hung over the table, like everyone forgot how to breathe together. The only one seemingly unaffected was Sebastian, who calmly picked a half-eaten mozzarella stick off the table and began eating it. Halfway through chewing, he looked around at everyone else. “What?” 

Abby was first to react, throwing her arms around her friend. “Oh Sebastian! I’m so happy you decided to come out to your friends. I would have kept your secret, but oh my Yoba it was getting hard to.” 

Sebastian half-smiled, patting Abby’s back awkwardly with one hand, as the other still held the cheese stick. “It’s okay. I know I’m safe with you guys, so I thought I might as well tell you all.” His eyes shifted to The Farmer for a moment. “It’s easier to feel like myself and trust others when I’m not subconsciously hiding something.” 

“Sam, what’s wrong?” Penny asked. 

They all turned to Sam, whose brow was knit together. The Farmer could visibly see the gears turning inside Sam’s blond head. “Um, not to sound stupid, but, ah, what does bisexual mean?” 

The Farmer let out a short snort, stopping himself. He didn’t know if he should be laughing or not because it sounded ridiculous. But then again, the confusion on Sam’s face seemed to be genuine. 

“Bisexual means that you like both guys and girls,” Penny offered. “You would willingly enter into a relationship with either one. Although, there is some debate on the exact definition in relation to other sexual orientations within the community,” she admitted. 

“W-wait,” Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You can do that? You don’t have to choose?” 

Abby snorted. “Why do you think anyone would force you to choose? How would you even enforce that?” 

Sam didn’t hear her. The Farmer watched as the gears behind Sam’s expression finally found traction and began to turn. The Farmer suddenly had the feeling that he knew what was going to happen next, and a funny sort of happiness fell over him. 

But what Sam did next, wasn’t exactly what The Farmer had thought was going to happen. Sam shot up and out of his seat, planting one foot firmly on the tabletop and smashing a few fries underfoot. “Everyone, I have something to say!” Sam shouted to the entire bar at the top of his voice. His voice carried over the room and everyone in the Saloon turned to face Sam; Shane, from his usual spot and nursing a beer, even pushed a button on the jukebox to stop what was currently playing. 

The Farmer looked up at him incredulously, mouth agape. Surely this wasn’t happening. No one in their right mind would want to do this. No one in their right mind would be able to muster up the courage to say what The Farmer thought Sam was going to say, especially to a room full of people he barely knew. He watched Sam’s face start to go red, realizing what he’d just done. 

But that apparently wasn’t going to stop him. Sam gripped his hands into fists and closed his eyes. He looked down, and at the top of his voice yelled, “I just found out that I’m bisexual!” 

Over at the bar in the seat next to Pam, Lewis’ head shot up from the small collection of bottles he'd assembled over the last few hours. “Oh no!” He slurred drunkenly. “You already skateboard around my town enough as it is. I won’t have you bicycling all over the houses too.” 

Pam smacked the back of Lewis’ head hard, sending the drunk almost face first back into the countertop of the bar. Several of the empty bottled clattered to the floor. “No you damn lightweight. He said bisexual, not a bicycle!” Then she turned to Sam, hoisting her beer glass towards him. “Good for you kid! You’re just like my little Penny. Gus, another drink!” 

“Hear, hear!” Emily cheered from behind the bar, topping off Pam’s glass. 

“Mother!” Penny squealed, shooting to her feet and her face blushing red. 

“The mayor really isn’t taking his breakup with Marnie great, is he?” Sebastian mused. 

A smile crept onto Sam’s face, as he looked down to her. “You are too Penny?” 

Penny sighed as Gus yelled at Sam to get his feet off the table. The two of them slipped back into their seats and then Penny said, “Yes, I am. And I regret coming out to my mother now. I don’t mind that other people know, but I just wish she wouldn’t blurt it out to the whole town like that.” 

“Hey, at least she’s supportive,” Sam shrugged. “That’s gotta count for something.” 

“Too supportive.” Penny countered. “She actually offered to take me to the pride parade in the city next summer. Although I think it’s just an excuse for her to get as drunk as possible.” 

Abby laughed awkwardly. “Well, at least it’s more supportive than I imagine my dad would be if I ever came out to him.” 

Sam whipped his head to Abby. “Wait, are you bisexual too?” 

Abby grinned at him, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Yes I am you dumb goof. Though I’d never dream of jumping onto a table to proclaim to a room of strangers my sexuality. Especially before I told my family.” 

At that point, the smile dropped from Sam’s face. “Shit. I’m going to have to tell my mom.” 

“Better do it soon before Lewis tells her you're a bicycle.” Sebastian chuckled. 

“I mean, I don’t mind telling her. It’s my dad I worry about, and he’s coming back from deployment next spring.” Sam waved his hand in front of his face, dispelling his thoughts. “But enough of that, holy cow guys! I always thought you had to be gay or straight.  I can’t believe everyone at this table is bisexual. Oh,” Sam looked over to The Farmer. “I mean I guess I’m just assuming ‘cus of everyone else. Are you also-”

“Sam!” Abby exclaimed, slapping her hand over his mouth. “It’s rude to ask someone outright like that.” 

“I’m gay.” The Farmer said, the words rolling off his tongue naturally. Abby’s head whipped to him, the look on her face said she was just as surprised as he was. He never expected to be able to naturally come out to people like this, sitting at a restaurant booth and casually dropping it into the conservation. But it just felt like a good and safe time to do so. “Sorry I can’t join your group, but I swing to a full six on the Kinsey scale.” 

“The what?” Sam asked, removing Abby’s hand.

“The Kinsey scale,” Penny said, unconsciously slipping into her teacher's voice. “Think of it as a scale of how likely someone will engage in a same-sex relationship. Six means they engage exclusively in same-sex relationships while zero means they will never engage in a same-sex relationship.” 

“Does that mean a three is the middle ground?” Abby asked. 

Penny nodded. “A three means you are willing to engage equally in same-sex and opposite sex relationships. While many people swing fully in one direction or the other, those that fall in between have their own leaning as to which side of the scale they’re more attracted to. I think of myself as a two, for example. I find I’m slightly attracted to more men than women.”

“Wow,” Sam scratched his head. “I didn’t realize there were things like that out there.” 

“There’s plenty of resources at the library and online, and I can help you if you have any other questions about sexuality or gender.” Penny smiled at Sam from across the table. 

Sam tilted his head. “Gender? You mean there’s more than just boy and girl?” 

Abby threw an arm around him, shaking her head while wearing a playful smile. “Oh Sam, we certainly have a lot to teach you, don’t we?”

Penny laughed. “I’m more than happy to declare class in session whenever you’d like.” 

The Farmer chuckled to himself, but then suddenly felt a pair of eyes on him. He looked at Sebastian, who was staring at him from across the table. The other man peered at The Farmer from across the rim of his drink. They held eye contact for a curious moment longer before Sebastian put his drink down and spoke. “So, Farmer. Any guys in the valley catch your interest so far?” 

Out of the corner of his eye, The Farmer noticed Abby freeze midway through teasing Sam. The Farmer glared daggers at her, but Abby stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. She was acting like a cartoon character who’d just been caught in a lie. He could literally see the exaggerated beads of sweat roll off her. Instead, Abby pulled out her phone and furiously began typing something. 

“Oh?” Sam’s voice rose in pitch the longer he held the word. He grinned from ear to ear, looking between Sebastian and The Farmer. “Are you interested in The Farmer, Seb?” 

“Not really,” Sebastian admitted coolly, a small smile on his face. His finger gently traced the rim of his drink. From the look Sebastian wore, The Farmer felt like he was now the subject of an experiment. The small smile on the other man’s face had just enough smugness to it, and light danced behind his eyes. He looked like a cat gleefully playing with its prey. 

The Farmer’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced down at it, keeping it below the table’s edge.

GAMER QUEEN: is2y i didnt say anything 

GAMER QUEEN: sebby is just very very observant

GAMER QUEEN: like a hawk

The Farmer peered back up at Abby, who was taking a very deep drink from her glass and still refusing to meet his eye. With every second that passed, an awkward silence threatened to overtake the conversation. Sebastian didn’t seem bothered by it, continuing to stare down The Farmer, while Sam seemed to just grow more confused as the seconds passed. 

“Now, now,” Penny said, breaking the silence right before it could turn awkward. “Let's not pressure anyone into revealing anything they don’t want to. Especially since we’ve been drinking. We don’t want to say anything we’d regret.” 

The Farmer shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Actually,” he said. “I do have someone I’m interested in. Alex.” 

Abby snorted mid-drink, beer steaming out of her nostrils as she began to cough and gasp for air. Even Sebastian looked like he’d been surprised by the sudden declaration. 

“Huh, Alex?” Sam said, contemplation on his face. He nodded as if he was telling himself he agreed with The Farmer’s words. “I can see that. Alex works out like literally every day. I bet he’s pretty built under that letterman jacket.” 

“He does look pretty good naked,” The Farmer admitted casually. 

It may have been the beer, it may have been the rush of embarrassment from admitting his crush to multiple people, it was probably a mix of both, but speaking his feelings for Alex into existence sent a wave of warmth through The Farmer that he couldn’t describe. He felt like a kid who’d thought everyone had forgotten his birthday, only to find out they’d planned a surprise party for him. But at the same time, it felt like he was standing on the edge of a great cliff, staring down at a winding valley that opened up below him. 

Even though he couldn’t name the emotion right now, he knew that one part of it was a smug joy at seeing his friends' expressions. Sam went completely red while Penny quickly brought a hand up to cover her mouth. Abby sputtered again, spraying spit all over the table, and even Sebastian’s cool and confident smile broke, replaced with a light blush and a look of astonishment. Maybe that’s why The Farmer said what he said. He wanted to see Sebastian lose his cool for a moment. He didn’t like it when someone tried to make him act predictable. 

“Oh my Yoba!” Abby jumped to her feet, slamming her hands down on the table. She half yelled, half-hissed at him. “Did you two finally hook up?” 

“No, we haven’t.” The Farmer waved her off, smiling. “But remember when he and I got trapped in the spa during the hurricane?  We’d been soaked in the storm and so we warmed up in the hot spring.” 

Abby fell back into her seat with a groan. “Don’t do that to me. I thought the torture of being your wing woman was finally at its end.” 

“You knew about his crush?” Sam asked. 

Abby nodded. “I’ve been trying to give him advice about it, but you,” She pointed an accusatory finger at The Farmer, “are too fucking stubborn to admit that Alex might like you back.” 

“You don’t look too surprised about this, Penny,” Sebastian said, having composed himself. 

Penny shrugged, offering a half smile. “Well, I knew about The Farmer’s attraction towards men, but not about Alex. But, if I’m being honest, I’ve had my suspicions since George’s birthday party.” 

“So why don’t you think Alex would be interested in you?” Sebastian said, suddenly turning the conversation back to The Farmer. 

"Actually..." The Farmer paused, and Abby and Penny's attention snapped to him. The events from after the Spirits Eve Festival were still fresh in his mind. He was hesitant to share too much, but he wanted to talk with someone like this.  "I'm starting to think that might now be the case anymore..."

Abby's eyes went wide and she gasped dramatically. "Dish!" 

"Well I mean, Alex and I hung out at my place after the Spirits Eve Festival and we...kind of cuddled?"

For a heartbeat, nobody said anything as they stared at him.

"Cuddling with another dude, sounds like he's 100% straight to me," Sebastian said.

The Farmer sighed. “Look, I'm getting a lot of mixed signals, and that's all I'm saying. We've fallen into this cycle where it feels like we're becoming more than friends. Then one of us suddenly backpedals and we're right back where we started."

"Maybe he's just coming to terms with the fact that he's not straight?" Penny offered. "George is admittedly a little conservative in his values, and he practically raised Alex. When Alex is with you, maybe he's not thinking about his actions because they just feel natural. But then when he actually thinks about his actions, he realizes they don't match up with the lessons he learned while he was being raised as a child." 

The Farmer raised a hand to cut her off, his head hung in defeat. "No, let's not get into speculation. I hate getting my hopes up like that way. Besides, Alex has his own dreams and goals he wants to chase. I'm not abandoning the farm anytime soon, and I doubt anyone would want to tie themselves to me knowing any long-term commitment is going to be saddled with a lifetime of debt, manual labor, and cow manure.” 

“Hey, what did I say about being cynical?” Abby challenged, swiping a french fry off the table and throwing it at his face. “Why don’t you tell them everything you told me. They’ll agree with me and maybe you’ll finally see that Alex is interested.” 

The Farmer brushed the crumbs out of his hair, surprised with himself that he wasn’t getting annoyed with her this time. He looked down at his empty beer glass and then said, “Okay, fine. There's some stuff I haven't told you about anyways.” 

Abby inhaled quickly, excitement dancing around her like little stars. “Dish. That. Tea.” 

The Farmer tapped his fingernail against the glass, the sound ringing in the air. “First, you’ll be covering my drinks until close. I think you owe me for telling Sebastian about my crush.” 

“What? But I didn’t-”

“Yeah Abby,” Sebastian cut her off and turned to her with a sly grin. His smile hid the teasing intent behind his voice, but only barely. “I think that’s fair, don’t you? It’s not nice to out your friends to other people.”

Abby shot him a dirty look before hip-checking Sam on her other side, nearly sending him stumbling to the floor. “Fine. Sam, you’re coming with me and we’re refilling everyone’s drinks.” 

Quickly, the two walked over to the bar, flagging down Emily. “Excuse me, but can you bring five more drinks to our table?” Abby asked. 

Mayor Lewis’ head shot up again, his eyes focusing on Abby. “I’m the one that needs five more drinks!” He declared. His voice squeaked halfway through the sentence and ended in a choked sob. “You’re with your friends and I have to spend my evening with Pam!” 

“I don’t know him.” Pam said quickly, sliding one more stool down the bar and away from him.

Emily frowned and walked over to Lewis. She reached over the bar and gently put a hand on his shoulder. He looked her in the eye with tears forming in his own. “Mayor Lewis, if you really miss Marnie that much, you should tell her. I’m sure she’d be incredibly happy to hear it.” 

Lewis sniffled, his bottom lip quivering “R-really?” 

Emily nodded, her smile radiating a calming aura. “Just remember to tell her that often, and I’m sure she’ll be back here and with you in no time.” 

Lewis wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “Yeah...you’re right! I’m gonna go tell her now!” He jumped up from his stool, turning towards the front doors. He took a single step before his knee gave out. He hit the ground with a hard ‘thud!’ and began to snore, knocked out.  

Abby and Sam looked over at him. “Um, is he going to be okay?” Abby asked with a concerned look. 

Gus shrugged, continuing to fill their drinks. “He’s passed out drunk almost every day the last week. If he’s not awake by closing, I usually just shove him into an empty room upstairs. He’ll be fine.” 

Abby watched as Emily produced a blanket from behind the bar and gently tucked it around Lewis’ sleeping body. Abby looked to Sam, and they shared a shrug of indifference. Once Gus had finished pouring their new drinks, the duo returned to the table, ready to hear all about The Farmer’s love life.

Alex knelt in the snow of Dusty’s enclosure, scratching the underside of his dog’s chin. Dusty’s tail wagged back and forth, thumping against the wooden sides of the doghouse as Alex did so. “Sorry boy,” Alex said. “You know Grandpa doesn’t like you in the house until it’s necessary. But I’ll make sure you’re nice and warm.” 

Dusty made a happy noise in his throat, pushing into Alex’s hand. 

That made Alex smile. “Even after all this time, you still get bursts of puppy energy, huh?” 

“Ruff!” Dusty barked. 

Alex snickered. “You know, sometimes I think you can understand me, Dusty. Kinda like how Saber seems to understand The Farmer.” Alex paused, his mind wandering now that he’d brought up the other man. 

He hadn’t spent any time with The Farmer since Spirit's Eve. They’d texted every day since then, and it was just barely enough to keep Alex satisfied for now. He knew that one of the cows had recently gotten a sneeze that worried The Farmer, but Marnie had visited yesterday and diagnosed it as a common cold, putting The Farmer’s mind at ease. When he’d found out the news, he’d flooded Alex’s phone with strings of crying emoji.

Alex removed his hand from Dusty and pulled his phone out of his pocket. The screen read just a few minutes before midnight, dropping away as he unlocked it. He opened his chat log with The Farmer, finger hovering over the call button as his eyes reread the most recent messages for the fifth time that day. He’d probably missed his chance to call, but Alex couldn't shake the need he had right now. 

He wanted to hear The Farmer’s voice, to listen to the other man talk about his day. He’d been allowing himself to be pulled closer and closer, any fears that he’d once had slowly melting away in his mind. He’d felt stupid, looking back now, fearing that The Farmer would push him away if Alex tried to pursue a relationship. Now that he truly believed he had a chance of calling The Farmer his boyfriend, and the idea caused a light and warm feeling to ignite within him.

Alex’s current train of thought suddenly pushed him over the edge. He didn’t want to talk or hear The Farmer anymore. What he wanted now, needed, was to be with The Farmer in person. To see his face change as he talked, to revel in the amused little smiles and handsome looks The Farmer would give him.

Alex shoved the phone back into his pocket, resolving himself to visit tomorrow. The thought warmed his cheeks and he gave his dog one more scratch behind his ear. “Do you think The Farmer would let you sleep inside if we ever started living with him?”  

“You’re going to drop him!” 

Alex jumped at the voice, Dusty perking up slightly at the sound as well. Standing up and peering over the edge of the enclosure, Alex quickly spotted Abby and her friends standing outside the Saloon. Abby was the one who had yelled, standing next to Penny with hands on her hips and her back to Alex. Sam and Sebastian stood beyond her, struggling with something. 

Curious, Alex exited the pen and made his way over. He called out as he approached. “What’s with the yelling?” 

Penny and Abby both turned to him, looking surprised. Abby spoke, a smile breaking out, “Oh, Alex! You have the perfect timing.” 

Abby gestured at her other two friends, and Alex realized that Sam and Sebastian were supporting a drunk farmer between them. The man was giggling and staring up at the sky, a drunken blush on his face. At the sound of Alex’s name, The Farmer’s head dropped forward, lolling like a ragdoll. “Alex?” His speech was slurred, and it looked like he could barely support himself on his own two feet. He spoke again, more joyfulness to his voice. “Alex! You’re here. Yay!” 

The Farmer tried to step away from Sam and Sebastian, but his knee gave out, dropping his weight into Sebastian. From Sebastian’s strained expression, it was obvious he struggling to not drop his drunken friend.

“We may have let him drink a little too much,” Abby admitted. “We were going to try and take him home, but it’s proving more difficult than we imagined.” 

Alex suddenly pushed between Penny and Abby. In one quick motion, he scooped the drunkard into his arms bridal style, feeling very protective. “I’ll do it,” he said quickly and stepped away before turning back to them. He didn’t doubt that Abby and the others would have brought The Farmer home, but this was something that he wanted to do. “You guys can go home. I’ll take care of him.” Alex heard his own voice himself come off somewhat forceful, almost like he didn’t trust the other four. It was unreasonable, he knew that, but he was the one that wanted to do it. 

He expected to be told off for being rude, but to Alex’s surprise, most of the group smiled. Abby waved a hand in the air, a coy look on her face. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll leave him in your strong, capable arms.”

“And when you get him home, don’t forget to give him a good night kiss when you tuck him in!” Sam said. Sebastian smacked him upside the back of the head. 

“Ah, please excuse him.” Penny smiled at the curious look Alex gave them. “He’s drunk too.” 

Penny, Abby, and Sam all turned to leave, but Sebastian remained for a moment longer. He regarded Alex with a small smile. “Well I’d say he has more than a small chance, wouldn’t you, Mr. Mullner?” 

Alex squinted at him. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Sebastian turned away with a wave. “Don’t do anything unbecoming...” His voice trailed off. 

Alex felt the tips of his ears burn red. Of course he wouldn’t, who did Sebastian take him for? When the four disappeared into the night, Alex could feel his arms start to strain from the other man's body weight. The Farmer wasn’t extremely heavy, but he wouldn’t be able to carry him all the way back to his farm like this. 

He began to put The Farmer down, eliciting a whimper from him. The Farmer had been silent ever since Alex had picked him up. His joyful giggling had quickly gone, and now it sounded like he was on the verge of tears, “Alex?” 

“I’ll bring you home.” Alex repeated, turning his back to The Farmer and kneeling down. “But I’ll have to carry you on my back, okay?” 

“Okay.” The Farmer slid his arms around Alex’s neck and let the other man grip his legs. Unlike their trip down the mountain nearly two months ago, there was no hesitation in his actions.

Alex stood, making a final adjustment on his grip before setting off. After a few moments, The Farmer giggled drunkenly, nuzzling his face into the back of Alex’s neck. The action sent electric needles jabbing blissfully into his skin, and he had to fight every urge to not affectionately rub his head back against The Farmer’s. The man was drunk, it wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of him like that. He had to distract The Farmer quickly. 

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Alex asked. 

“Stuff.”  The Farmer said. 

“What kind of stuff?” 

“Farm stuff. You stuff.” 

Alex felt his heartbeat quicken. “M-Me?” 

“Yeah!” The Farmer tightened his hug around Alex’s neck, warming him through against the winter’s night air. 

“W-Why were you talking about me?” As he asked, half of Alex scolded himself for prying. He literally told himself second ago to not take advantage of The Farmer. But his curiosity was driving his actions now, demanding and screaming for answers. There was a happiness in him, knowing that The Farmer was talking about him to other people. He needed to know if that happiness was valid.

“Why?” The Farmer slurred. “Isn’t it obvious? It’s cus-” 

“Oh my, what do we have here?” 

The new voice jolted Alex. His feet scrambled suddenly to right himself, like he’d just slid on ice and lost his footing. Composing himself quickly and ignoring his hammering heartbeat, he turned to the voice. They’d barely gotten away from the Saloon and reached the edge of the clinic just north of it. Stepping into the light of the streetlamp, was Morris. 

“My dear farmer,” Morris tutted. “What have you gotten yourself into?” 

The Farmer’s grip around Alex tightened. This time, it wasn’t the least bit joyful. 

“I’m helping him home,” Alex said.

“Oh,” Morris’ expression feigned concern. “Did he hurt himself again?” 

“He just drank a little too much, there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

“I never said there was.” Morris eyed The Farmer. As he held his gaze, Alex could feel The Farmer bury his face into Alex’s neck to avoid Morris’ gaze. His breath was hot and sticky on Alex’s skin, quickly turning cold in the winter air. Morris’ eyes returned to Alex. “I just hope he’s not too much of a handful. You know how drunkards can be sometimes.” 

Unpleasant thoughts started to form in Alex’s head, melding grotesquely with even more unpleasant memories and forming new thoughts. Thoughts that weren’t fair to The Farmer. Thoughts that he knew were unreasonable. 

“There’s no need for a glare, young man.” Morris said. “I’m simply concerned for a fellow member of my community.” 

“You seem to have a funny way of showing it.” Alex snapped. 

“If I’ve done anything to offend you, I apologize young man.” Morris said gently. “Why don’t you stop by the store tomorrow and I’ll wave the admission fee to your very own Joja Membership.” 

Alex didn’t reply. He simply turned, walking in the direction of the farm. With every step he took away, The Farmer's grip on Alex relaxed. Soon, Morris was left alone in the dark of Pelican Town.

Year: 1

Season: Winter

Date: 06

Abby frowned at her phone. She flicked through her messenger app while she walked, looking over the messages she’d sent The Farmer this morning. 

GAMER QUEEN: holy shit i’m so sorry i overslept

GAMER QUEEN: i totally forgot we were going to the mines today

GAMER QUEEN: but in my defese i was hungover af ( ̵˃ ﹏ ˂̵ )

GAMER QUEEN: and i bet u are too after all that beer last night

GAMER QUEEN: speaking of

GAMER QUEEN: how’d u enjoy being tucked in by Alex ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

GAMER QUEEN: hello?

GAMER QUEEN: farmer u there or u just angry at me?

GAMER QUEEN: helloooooooooooo?

Abby closed her messenger app and opened her call log. She tapped The Farmer’s name, who’d already missed two calls from her earlier, and attempted to reach him again. It was almost noon, and even with the sun overhead, the winter air sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine. Under the buzz of her drinks last night, sending The Farmer home with Alex had seemed like a brilliant idea. But now, panic was starting to creep in. She didn’t actually know Alex that well. He seemed like a nice guy and The Farmer seemed to trust him, but the paranoia in Abby’s mind wouldn’t leave her alone. 

Especially after her third call went to voicemail. Abby hung up, shoving the phone into her coat pocket. She was almost to the farm now; the fence that signaled the edge of the property was just ahead. For better or worse, she’d find out why The Farmer was ignoring her. 

As she approached the farmhouse, everything seemed as quiet and normal as usual. She knocked quickly on the door, repeatedly telling herself that everything was going to be okay. 

The door swung open, and a surprised looking Alex greeted her. He didn’t look embarrassed or ashamed, just surprised. “Oh, Abby. What are you doing here?” 

Abby looked him up and down, noting very quickly that he was in the exact same clothes as last night. She tried to not jump to any conclusions. Not yet at least. “The Farmer and I were going to go to the mines today, but he hasn’t been answering my calls,” she said.

“Oh, so you’re the one that’s been calling. He left it in his backpack, and I didn’t want to answer it for him, so I just left it over there.” Alex gestured over his shoulder towards the couch. Abby could see the strap of the bag hanging over the edge of it. 

“So, where is The Farmer then?” Then, she sniffed the air. “And what’s that smell?” 

“Shit!” Alex spun quickly, running back into the house and towards the kitchen. Abby took that chance to let herself in and closed the door behind herself. Alex appeared busy trying to scrap something off a pan on the stove that was currently letting off black smoke. The house seemed just as in order as the last time Abby had been in it. There was no sign that anything her frenzied mind had been able to whip up had happened. 

“Saber, what the hell is that smell?” The Farmer groaned. Abby saw him appear in the doorway to his bedroom, the final wave of relief washing through her when she saw his clothes were also the same as last night. He had an extremely bad case of bedhead where she could count at least four different cowlicks, and The Farmer was rubbing sleep from his eyes. 

“I swear to Yoba if you shit on my stuff again, you’re sleeping outside,” The Farmer said, still trying to wake up. As The Farmer started to blink his world into existence, his body went rigid with shock upon the realization that Alex was currently cooking in his kitchen. He rubbed his eyes again, then registered that Abby was also there. He looked between the two of them several times before asking, “What are you two doing in my house?” 

“I made breakfast,” Alex said bashfully, having finally freed what looked like a burnt omelet from the frying pan. “I thought you might get a pretty bad hangover, and I know food can help with that.” 

The Farmer turned to Abby, the panicked and angry expression he wore demanded an explanation. “Wellllllll, you could barely even stand after all that drinking last night. So, we had Alex carry you home.” 

“And you…” The Farmer started turning red, eyes flicking back to Alex momentarily. “Did you both stay the night?” 

“Just me.” Alex said, picking off the burnt parts of the breakfast with a fork. He looked up from his work to The Farmer. “You, ah, you kinda wouldn’t let me go after I put you in your bed. When I tried to get you to let go, you-” Alex’s words stopped suddenly, glancing over at Abby. A blush touched at his face before he continued. “Well you really didn’t want to let go. So I just kind of sat on the bed until you fell asleep. I was worried about leaving you alone though, so I slept on the couch.” 

Abby watched the memories slowly fall into place behind The Farmer’s expression, his face turning redder as he recalled last night's events. He slowly walked over towards the table in the kitchen, placing a hand on it to brace himself. “Oh, ah, sorry about that then. I guess I’m a clingy drunk.” 

“It’s not a problem.” Alex brought the breakfast over to the table, the food now mostly char-free. He smiled at The Farmer, his expression tender and soft. “You just focus on recovering. I’ll feed your animals for now, then I need to head home. I told my grandma where I was last night, but I know she’ll worry herself sick until she sees me.” 

Alex brought his hand up, but it paused awkwardly in midair for the briefest of moments before clasping The Farmer’s shoulder. Abby could see Alex struggle with his train of thought, his eyes flicking up and down, then to her, and his mouth opening and closing, not saying anything. Alex quickly dropped his hand and settled for a quick smile. “I’ll see you later.” 

Alex moved quickly to retrieve his jacket from the couch before leaving, passing Abby at the door. Alex could only meet her eyes for a moment as he said goodbye to her too. His smile was bashful, and a rosy blush colored his cheeks; making Abby believe that he’d have said goodbye in a different way if she hadn’t been there. 

The door closed behind Alex, and Abby turned to The Farmer with a sly grin. “Holy shit, did I just cockblock you?” 

The Farmer’s face went red. He tried to glare at her but found he couldn’t face her smile for more than a few moments. He grumbled, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not answering that question.”

“Then what exactly happened between you two last night?”

The Farmer sank into the chair at the dinner table, and Abby took the seat opposite of him as he thought. After a moment, The Farmer said, “I asked him to stay. I said, I uh, wanted him to stay with me. I…” The Farmer went completely red and buried his head in his hands. “Abby, I tried to pull him down and asked him to cuddle with me again.” 

Abby grinned ear-to-ear. “And yet he slept on the couch like a gentleman.” 

“Please kill me. And then never let me near alcohol again.” 

“Oh, you know what they say Farmer, if you do it while you’re drunk, it means you wanna do it when you’re sober. And now Alex knows you're down for more cuddle sessions.” 

The Farmer frowned at her. “That saying is stupid and you know it. If you won’t kill me, then this hangover probably will.” 

Abby stood, walking over to ruffle his hair slightly. The Farmer groaned at her touch and swatted her hand away. “You heard your boy toy,” Abby tested. “You need to rest up. Or do you actually just want Alex to keep coming over to nurse you back to health?”

“Get out.” The Farmer moaned, dropping his head to the table. Then he looked up at her, “Wait, what are you doing here then?” 

“Well, I felt a little guilty about sending you home completely wasted with a guy I barely know,” Abby admitted with a guilty frown. “And you weren’t answering your phone, so I wanted to make sure Alex didn’t, ah, take advantage of you.” 

The Farmer narrowed his eyes at her. “Alex isn’t like that.” 

Abby shrugged, “I know that now. I just wanted to make sure my friend was okay.” 

The Farmer’s expression softened after a moment and he pulled himself up from the table. “Thanks then, for that. You’re...you’re a good friend, Abby.” 

Abby beamed, reaching out to ruffle The Farmer’s hair again. “I know. But I’m going to get going now. I’ll leave you in peace to enjoy your lovingly-made breakfast.” 

The Farmer rolled his eyes at her, and Abby left the house. Just at the edge of the farm, she spotted Alex, just a few feet down the path having already finished feeding the animals. She ran after him, calling out, “Hey Alex!” 

He stopped, turning back to her, and waited for her to catch up. “What’s up?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” Abby said. “Just thought we could walk back to town together. We haven’t really hung out since we were kids and I thought it’d be nice to talk and catch up.” 

Alex smiled; an amused eyebrow raised at the prospect. “Sure, but you and I both know that nothing in this town has happened for years. It’ll be a pretty boring conversation.” 

“Oh…I don’t know,” Abby smiled at Alex and started walking back towards town. “Why don’t you just tell me a little more about yourself then. Do you like video games?”

Year: 1

Season: Winter

Date: 09

Alex watched himself sob into George’s shirt. Snot dripped from his nose as he cried at the top of his voice. George hugged him protectively, to the point it was almost painful. Evelyn knelt in front of the wheelchair, gently stroking Alex’s hair. In a chair on the opposite side of the hallway, an old man in blood-stained overalls feverishly prayed. His fingers were laced together so tightly that his knuckles were bone white. His eyes were closed, head bowed, and lips moving wordlessly. 

A hospital, that’s where they were. The realization hit Alex like a sledgehammer through the wall. He was watching the scene unfold before him like it was a TV drama. He stood several feet down the hall, watching the younger version of himself cry into his grandparent’s protective embrace. Mint green double doors stood ominously at the end of the hallway with a lit-up sign lofted above them. The red letters ‘In Progress’ casting its cold light upon the residents of the hallway. 

Someone was beyond those doors. The thought manifested suddenly in Alex. It whipped up a feverish panic in his gut, making him want to vomit. It was someone he knew, someone who was painfully important to him. He ran past his younger self and the others in the hallway, barreling shoulder first into the doors. They did not give, and pain erupted throughout his right side. Regardless, he threw his weight against the doors again, and again, always unsuccessful in getting them to budge. 

Alex turned back to the people in the hall. Seeing himself and his grandparents filled him with a sense of dread and panic even greater than before. He ran instead to the old man sitting across from them. “Who’s hurt?” Alex demanded, dropping to his knees in front of the man. “Please, I have to know.”

The old man didn’t say anything. Instead, he responded to a commotion that started in the opposite direction. There was shouting, several voices mixing in together as they argued. Even the younger version of Alex stopped crying, and he and his grandparents turned to see what was happening. 

Shortly afterwards, a woman burst into view from another hallway. She was half running, half marching towards them, trailed by a taller man and a nurse. The nurse was shouting at the woman to calm down, saying that surgery was in progress and she needed to wait, but her words fell on deaf ears. The woman spotted the old man, a vicious gleam coloring her expression. “You!” She shrieked, almost throwing the clutch purse she held in her hand at him. 

The old man stood up, his body passing through Alex. Alex cried out in shock, falling onto his back as fear rose in his throat. He scrambled to get to his feet, a strange sensation, as most of his body swirled like mist and he couldn’t even see it. But in a matter of seconds, the mist solidified, and Alex found his body had quickly reformed. He patted himself down to ensure he was solid before pulling himself up fully. To the others before him, he was nothing more than a ghost.

When the woman reached the old man, she struck him hard across the face. A quick and purposeful slap, the sound echoing around them and drowning out all other sound. She grabbed the old man by the collar, fresh tears pouring down her face. “Again!” She cried. “Again, you sink into your damn shell and I have to find out someone I love is hurt from a third-party!” 

The woman was short and had slightly pudgy build, similar to that of the old mans’. They stood at equal height, but the old man seemed shorter on account of his sagging shoulders. Like an invisible weight was pulling him down. 

The man that had been following the short woman quickly rushed to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Honey, they said it was an accident. It wasn’t his fault,” he said with a gentle voice. The man’s appearance shocked Alex. He looked remarkably familiar, but Alex couldn’t piece together why.

“Like hell it was!” The woman slapped his hand away, turning her venomous look back to the old man. “He’s not even ten years old yet, you were responsible for his safety dad! I was always against sending him to you during the summer, I knew farms were a dangerous place for children, but… but he was always so excited to see you. I-I just couldn’t say no! And now...and now he’s.... he’s…” 

The woman’s voice choked off, her sobbing growing with renewed vigor. Her strength dissipated and her knees wobbled. The man gently put his hand on the woman's back as she released the old man’s shirt, turning to embrace the man behind her. The old man crumpled to the floor, dropping to his knees.

After allowing herself a few moments to cry, the woman breathed deeply to steady herself and turned back to the old man. Looking down to him, she said, “As long as you work on that farm, my son will never return to Pelican Town.” 

“No!” Alex’s younger self cried out. The woman turned her tear-filled glare to him. Young Alex cried as well, the tears rolling down his tiny cheeks. “It’s my fault! He told me we shouldn’t have been in the barn, but I didn’t listen to him. He’s my friend! You can’t take him away from me. We made a promise to be friends forever!” 

The woman’s bristled at Alex’s words, her fury growing. “Then it's just as much your fault as it is his,” she spat, pointing down at the old man. Evelyn gasped, and George’s mouth opened as anger gathered on his face. But the woman continued before he could say anything. “If you were actually his friend, you would have listened to him! He wouldn’t have been hurt, and you might have seen him again. If you’re the kind of friends my son is making during the summer, then that even more of a reason to keep him away from bad influences like you!” 

The woman then sidestepped the old man and continued to march down the hall. She pushed her way through the mint green doors without issue and disappeared behind them. The man and nurse once again gave chase, all while the nurse continued shouting about how they couldn’t go in there. 

The look on young Alex’s face appeared like he’d just been beaten up for his lunch money. The expression was so painful that Alex believed his younger self had never known joy before. Young Alex turned to his grandparents. “It’s my fault?” He asked in a quiet voice, tears falling afresh and body shaking. 

“No,” George said firmly, hugging Alex in a tight, desperate, and almost painful hug. “Nothing is your fault. Accidents happen all the time, my boy. But that doesn’t mean they’re your fault.” 

Evelyn wrapped her arms around them both so that Alex was sandwiched between his grandparents' embrace. The old man watched the three silently for a few moments. His head swung slowly towards those mint green doors at the end of the hallway. Staring, tears began forming at the corners of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my grandson.”

The hospital suddenly burst into smoke, spinning around Alex like he’d been caught in a sudden tornado. But as quickly as it happened, the smoke reformed and solidified around him, creating a setting that was shockingly similar to Alex. He stood at the edge of the farm, just beyond the fence that marked the start of the property. The farm itself had a different layout than what he was used to seeing. There were a few more building and the fields were larger than they were now.

Parked outside of the farmhouse was a small silver minivan and standing on the porch was the old man from the hospital. The woman was also there, holding the hand of a young boy.

“I’m only here to gather up his things,” She declared. “Then we’re leaving.”

“Won’t you at least stay for dinner?” He asked.

“We won’t be staying any longer than necessary. I don’t want to expose my son to anything dangerous.”

The old man frowned, but from his resigned look, Alex suspected the man had been expecting that sort of response. Suddenly, he heard his own voice yell out a name from behind himself. Alex turned just in time to see his younger self sprint past, racing up towards the farmhouse. He ran straight for the other boy, oblivious of the anger growing on the woman’s face.

When the slap came, it hit so hard that Alex could feel it himself. His younger self staggered backward and fell back onto his butt. He brought a hand up to hold his reddened cheek, tears of pain stinging at his eyes. The woman stood between young Alex and her son; her hand poised in the air like a smoking gun.

“How. Dare. You.” She screeched. “You dare try and approach him after what you did last time he was here?”

Young Alex glared up at the woman but exchanged his look for a pleading one as turned to the boy instead. The boy held onto his mother’s skirt with one hand, looking at Alex with confusion. A thick white bandage was wrapped around the boy’s head, covering the stitched-up wound on his forehead. “Let’s run away!” Young Alex declared. “We were going to be best friends forever, right? We don’t need our parents to keep us inside all the time. We can take care of ourselves! I'll take care of you!”

The woman laughed, scooping up her son in her arms and cradling his head against her bosom. “You think you can openly declare that in front of me, his mother? You’re a child. Go ahead and run away if you want but leave my son out of it. You’d die in a matter of days and be one less problem child for the world to deal with.”

“You’re taking this too far.” The old man interjected.

“I’m not taking it far enough!” The woman spat back. “Because of that injury, my baby boy can barely even talk right now. The doctors said it was a miracle that he's even alive right now, but he has memory loss! They said it should only be temporary but what if it is permanent? What if he never remembers his own name? What if-" Her voice broke for a moment. "What if my own son doesn't remember me?” The woman's venom-laced glare turned back to young Alex. “Better to keep him with me, where he’ll be safe.”

With that, she marched into the farmhouse. From her arms, the boy stared at young Alex until he disappeared behind the front door. Young Alex yelled in frustration, jumping to his feet, and charged at the house. He was caught by the old man, who firmly held Alex by the arm. His boney fingers held Alex in a visceral grip, and the old man looked down at the boy with pity in his eyes. “Why don’t you just go home, my boy?”

“No!” Young Alex screamed. “I won’t let her take him! He’s my friend, my best friend!”

Alex watched his younger self continue to fight and struggle to free himself from the old man but was unable to do so. Shortly after, the scene began changing around Alex again; the house, his younger self, and the old man all fading to mist.

Slowly, his bedroom took shape, piece by piece around him. A single beam of moonlight shone in through the window, falling over the foot of Alex’s bed. In it, young Alex stared up at the ceiling of the room, unblinking. The little one breathed, which was the only sign that he was even still alive. His eyes were red and puffy and the tear stains on his cheeks looked almost permanent. Dusty, looking much more like a puppy than he did now, was curled up against Alex’s side, whimpering. 

“Well why can’t you?” 

Alex turned away from his younger self, hearing his grandfather's voice from beyond the bedroom door. Alex walked over to it, and the door swung open as he approached. He paused, steeling his nerves before continuing. Nothing in the house moved as he walked, and Alex soon found himself in the living room. His grandparents sat on the couch across from a man in black robes. His purple hair was pulled back into a ponytail and one hand was massaging his temple. 

“It’s not that I can’t, per say.” The purple haired man said. He began to pace the room, and that’s when Alex caught a glimpse of his face. He recognized this man from occasionally seeing him speak to The Farmer; it was a younger version of The Wizard.

“Well we know that you can do it,” George growled. “You erased the kids' memories when they got lost in the mines last year. Why can’t you do it now?” 

“I didn’t erase their memories. It’s impossible to erase memories, they’ll always be somewhere in the subconscious.” The Wizard said to George. “All I can do is rearrange a few pieces and change how they recall the memory. Plus, that was a single day. You're asking me to rearrange years worth of memories. That will come with a certain degree of risk.” 

“We understand that.” Evelyn said quietly. “But it’s been months, and Alex hasn’t shown any signs of improvement. We...we’ve been taking him to a therapist ever since his mother died. Took him weeks to open up and show any sign that he was happy again. After what happened in the barn and at the hospital, we started taking him to see one again. But ever since that day they came for his things, not even the therapist can get him to talk. He doesn't go outside anymore, just stares at the wall in his room. He barely sleeps these days. And when he does, he wakes up screaming from nightmares.” 

“He hardly eats unless we force him to,” George added. “We know we’re asking a lot. But...it’s our only hope. He’s lost his mother and had to deal with a piece of shit father that..." True, unbridled fury colored George's expression. Alex had never seen anything so vicious in his grandfathers eyes before.

Evelyn touched George's arm, and the anger in his face lessened. "He barely made it through that," George continued. "I don’t think he would have if we hadn’t gifted him Dusty. Now, not even that dog can pull our grandson back.” 

The Wizard stopped his pacing, casting a sad look towards the elder Mullner's. He pursed his lips, breathing deeply. “Fine. I will do as you ask, but I must make this very clear. With the amount of memories I must restructure, it will take several hours of me staying by his side. I also cannot guarantee that my spell will lock them away forever. Magic is a living thing, just like you and me, and will grow weak with the passage of time. He may start to recall bits and pieces of it as he grows older. I’m not nearly as skilled as my ex-wife is at this sort of thing. I'd call her for you instead, but at the moment she’s…unavailable.”

“You'll do fine.” George said. “After everything he’s had to go through, all we want is for him to experience a happy childhood.” 

The Wizard sighed, then stretched his arms out. “Okay, take me to him.” 

Suddenly, Alex found himself back in his room, unable to move as he stared up at the ceiling. The door opened, and The Wizard stepped in, followed by his grandparents. He wanted to scream, tell them to stop, but he could not control his body. The Wizard gently placed his hand over Alex’s eyes and submitted him to darkness. 

Alex stood now on a glowing white platform, suspended in midair and surrounded by inky blackness.  Blank canvases, nearly the size of a door, began to materialize all around him, circling him slowly and filling with color. As the paintings completed themselves, Alex recognized them as scenes from his previous dreams. Moments he’d spent playing with the boy on the farm, spending time at the beach, and chasing each other around town with the other children. 

Without warning, memories began to crumble away. Alex cried out, desperately grasping at the nearest one, but every canvas he managed to touch turned to dust in his hands. Quickly afterwards, more canvas appeared in their place, following suit and coloring themselves in with his memories. They filled with images of Alex and The Farmer.

With dread filling him, Alex recognized these too. They weren’t dreams or memories, they were all the things he’d longed to do with The Farmer. A candlelight dinner at the Saloon, a sunset walk along the beach with their hands interlaced, dancing at the flower festival, a kiss shared between them in full view of everyone in town with rings on their fingers. And just like before, these two crumbled away. 

“No!” Alex screamed to the black void around him, the last of the canvas fading away between his fingers. “Don’t take him from me!” 

Alex jolted up in his bed, waking from his nightmare soaked in sweat and short of breath. There were tears in his eyes, and he gripped his bedding tightly between his fingers. 

After a few moments of listening only to his heartbeat, there came a knock from his bedroom door. “Alex darling?” Evelyn’s voice called through. “Are you alright? Can I come in?” 

Alex had to swallow the lump in his throat before he could answer. “Yeah,” he called back, leaning over to his bedside table as he did to turn on the lamp. 

Evelyn entered his room, gently closing the door behind herself and making her way over to sit on his bed. She took one of his hands in both her own and smiled at her grandson. “What was it? Did you have a bad dream?” 

Alex nodded, wiping his tears away with his other hand. He allowed himself a few moments to draw strength from his grandmother’s hand, running his thumb along her palm. “I just...they’re just getting really vivid, grandma. My dreams I mean. And…” He paused, the words catching in his throat as he wasn’t even sure if he should ask the question on his mind. 

“And what, dearie?” 

“Well...I was wondering if you and grandpa…” Alex looked at her, making sure he could gauge her reaction. His dream was already fading, and he needed to say it before he forgot. “If you knew what happened to that boy I played with as a kid.” 

Evelyn’s expression didn’t change in the dim light, but Alex did notice that there was a small twitch in her hands. Almost as if she were scared. “Do you mean Sam?” She asked. “As I recall, he was the only boy who lived in Pelican town until Robin married Demetrius and moved in with her son.” 

Alex searched his grandmother’s expression but found nothing more. He pulled his hand out of hers and ran it through his hair. “Never mind. I guess I’m just still lost in my dream.” 

Evelyn smiled sadly at her grandson, gently touching his face before standing up. She gave him a quick peck on the forehead before saying, “Why don’t you try and get back to sleep? I’ll make you your favorite breakfast in the morning when you wake up, okay?” 

“Okay.” Alex said dryly. When she’d gone, Alex fell back into his bed, sleep being the last thing on his mind. These dreams he was having, they felt too real to be dreams. But also, too illogical to be true memories. He felt as if he were on the cusp of some sort of revelation but was still missing the final piece.

Evelyn closed the door to her bedroom quietly. George was waiting for her, sitting up in bed. The lamp on the nightstand cast a cold light over the room. “Is he okay?” George asked.

“A nightmare,” Evelyn said, shuffling back to her side of the bed and under the covers. She took her husband’s hand, and with a stern look said, “But I think it’s because he’s starting to remember.”

George huffed. “We knew this day would come eventually. That magic man did tell us this could happen. Do you think The Farmer is that boy he used to play with?”  

“He must be. I don’t recall his grandfather mentioning any other grandchildren when he was still alive,” Evelyn said.

George frowned settling back into bed. “I just hope Alex will be able to handle it this time, and he’s not too angry at us for what we did. We just wanted him to be happy.”

“I’m sure he’ll see it that way. They’re friends again now.” Evelyn assured him.  

“But if he isn’t, then we do whatever we can to make sure he is.” George reached over and turned off the lamp, settling back into sleep and mentally preparing for whatever the future days might bring.

Year: 1

Season: Winter

Date: 12

“What are we looking at?” Blue whispered to Green. 

“I think it’s a human mating call,” Green whispered back. 

The two spirits were hiding under the branches of a snow-covered bush just south of the farm. They were on their way to the forest’s lake when The Mayor came charging through the snow and they were forced to take cover. He raised a small sliver box above his head, facing the home of The Rancher. The box played loud music, while The Mayor sang at the building. 

“Marnie come back!” The Mayor’s voice was flat. “You can blame it all on me! I was wrong, and I just can’t live without you!” He continued to sing along with the music, to a seemingly uncaring house.

After a few moments, the front door to the house burst open, and two children rushed outside in winter clothes: The Boy and The Girl.

“Ms. Marnie says you’re here to play with us, Mr. Lewis!” The Boy shouted gleefully, scooping snow up into his hand. 

“Let’s play!” The Girl giggled and followed suit, making her own snowball. 

“Now, now, Jas, Vincent,” The Mayor said in a stern voice, taking a step back. “I’m not here to play-”

“Attack!” The Boy shouted, chucking his snowball at The Mayor. The projectile hit him square in the jaw, and snow exploded into the air from the impact. The Mayor stumbled backwards, barely recovering before The Girl also pelted him with her own snowball. The Mayor retreated another step but tripped. The silver box dropped to the ground next to him and continued to play music uncaringly as The Boy and The Girl continued to pelt The Mayor with snow. 

Green whispered to Blue. “Do you think the courtship was successful?” 

“Marnie!” The Mayor sobbed in the distance. “I’m sorry!” 

Blue shrugged. “I think so. But they’re distracted, let’s go.” 

Green nodded, and the two spirits quietly left the cover of the bush. They skirted across the top of the soft snow, barely making an indentation in it as they moved.  They had to jump over a few pitfalls, made by animals that had trekked through the forest already, and in no time at all, they had reached the lake. 

The silver water looked almost like glass in the afternoon light. Completely still and transparent, the two spirits could see directly to the seaweed at the bottom of the lake as they ran around it. Fish big and small weaved through the water, unaware of exactly what was about to happen. Just ahead of Green and Blue was the dock and standing at the edge of it was Orange. Orange was dangerously close to falling off as it peered into the water, its short and stubby arms clinging to the last wooden stake of the dock. 

“We’re here!” Blue declared happily, smacking Orange on the back. 

Orange screamed, letting go of the wood in fright and plummeting into the water. Several seconds passed, with Blue and Green too nervous to look over the edge, before Orange reemerged. Coughing violently, like the spirit with no actual mouth had accidently swallowed water, Orange yelled up at its friends. “Are you two crazy? What if we scare the Glacierfish away?” 

“Sorry…” Blue muttered. 

Orange jumped out of the water, landing on the docks again next to the other spirits. It shook itself dry like a dog, then turned back to face the water. “You’d better be. But you’re lucky. The Glacierfish hasn’t moved yet. Do you see that log in the middle of the lake?” 

Blue and Green joined Orange at the edge of the dock and looked to where Orange was pointing. Not too much farther ahead of them, the two spirits did see a large, hollowed out log below the water. It was barely visible between all the seaweed and moss that grew around it. Blue and Green nodded. 

“That’s where the Glacierfish is. I’ve seen it’s blue-silver scales glint in the light every so often.”

“We just need one scale, right?” Blue asked. 

“Just one,” Orange said. “We’ll need to do this carefully.” 

“I got this!” Green cheered. Throwing both hands up, the air shimmered above Green until a large red bomb popped into existence. The short fuse was, of course, still lit.  Ignoring the panicked screaming from both Orange and Blue, Green lobbed the bomb directly into the center of the lake. Following one loud splash, the lake swallowed the explosive device, and the bomb slowly drifted to the bottom. 

Orange and Blue watched in a horrified silence as the fuse continued to burn underwater, disappearing into the shell of the bomb. Another several seconds passed in an agonizing silence, until—

A muted roar echoed across the forest. The water of the lake shot into the air, taking all sorts of fish, rock, and underwater plant life with it. The log, which the bomb had gone off next too, also flew overhead in hundreds of little pieces. Among that carnage flew a fish, nearly two and a half feet long, with red eyes and silver-blue scales. 

“THERE!” Orange screeched, arm jabbed into the air in its direction. 

“I’m on it!” Blue yelled. An aura of pale-blue light burst to life around the Junimo, and Blue jumped into the air. The little spirit ricocheted off bubbles of water like a pinball, shooting itself in the direction of the Glacierfish. In no time at all, Blue’s little arm had latched itself onto the fish’s tail. With a mighty cry, Blue spun in the air and hurled the fish at the other Junimos on the docks. As the lake and its contents landed back into the lakebed, the Glacierfish slammed onto the wooden dock and began flailing about. Blue also dropped into the lake, landing with a small splash as the turbulent water resettled. 

Orange spun and quickly punched Green in the face. “What were you thinking?” 

“This was faster!” Green said, holding the spot Orange had punched it with both hands. 

“The fish!” Blue’s voice called out from the lake. 

Orange and Green turned away from each other, just in time to see the Glacierfish bounce itself back into the water. Orange lunged at it, far too late, grasping its little arm towards the water in vain. “No way…” Orange said, its reflection staring back itself. “All that work...everything I’ve done...has it all been for nothing?” 

“Hey look.” Green said, prying a scale out of the wood of the dock. “I guess it must have lost it when it landed. Well, all’s well that ends well.” It tossed the scale into the air, and the scale shimmered away, stored for safekeeping. 

Orange rolled onto its back, glaring at Green the best it could. 

Green titled its body to one side, confused. “What?” 

“I hate you.” 

“HEY!” A new voice screamed from above. The spirits all turned in the direction of the tower. The top window of the stone structure was open, and they could barely make out the figure of The Wizard leaning out of it, screaming. “What do you think you’re doing in my forest!?” 

“Run for it!” Orange shouted. Together, it and Green raced off the docks and into the forest, followed shortly thereafter by Blue. They charged through the snow, not bothering to duck below bushes or other cover as they ran in the direction of the farm. 

As they were just about to reach what they thought was sanctuary, a large shadow fell over Orange’s body. The little spirit looked up just in time to see the fluffy belly of The Beast as the monster dropped out of a tree overhead. Orange screamed, but the sound was quickly snuffed out. 

Blue and Green stopped short, turning around, and staring in horror at their fallen comrade. “Orange!” Green cried. 

Orange’s face popped out from below the belly of The Beast. “Go ahead without me, you have what’s important!” 

The creature sitting on Orange turned its gaze on the other Junimos, eliciting a yelp from the spirits. Blue and Green turned and ran, screaming ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘We’ll tell your story’ as they did. Orange wriggled more under The Beast, popping free quickly. 

“Meow!” The Beast hissed, slapping a paw down onto Orange and keeping the spirit trapped in the snow. The Beast leaned in close to Orange, flashing his fangs at the spirit. “Meow?” 

“Important thing?” Orange forcefully laughed, feigning ignorance. “What important thing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Meow.” 

“What?” Orange screamed. “We’re not up to anything! We’re not trying to make The Athlete disappear at all! Haha, what? That’s so dumb, why would you bring that up.” 

The Beast was still above it, and Orange thought it was in the clear. Orange was the best liar among the Junimos after all. Then the claws on the paw that held the spirit down suddenly flexed out, digging deep into Orange’s body. Orange screamed, its life began flashing before its eyes. 

“Huh, aren’t you The Farmer’s cat?” The Beast and Orange looked up. The Artist stood over them, looking down at them curiously. 

The arrival of the human distracted The Beast from its grip on Orange, letting the spirit slip free. Orange ran as fast as it’s little legs could carry it. The Beast shot after it in hot pursuit. 

“Ah, Leah!”

The Artist turned to The Mayor, who had called her name. He was running over to her, short of breath and covered in snow. “Do you have any idea what that explosion was just now? I couldn't tell if a bomb went off or if we just had another small earthquake.” 

“I'm not sure,” The Artist said, then turned to look back where The Beast had disappeared to. “But I just saw Saber chasing the weirdest looking squirrel I’ve ever seen.”

Year: 1

Season: Winter

Date: 14

“I almost thought you weren’t going to show up,” Abby said, pushing herself from the rock she’d sat on. “I thought you you'd been distracted by your boy toy again. You know I'm hurt," she feigned a pained expression.  "I thought our friendship was stronger than this.” 

The Farmer, having just walked into the mines himself, pretended to ignore her the best he could. He coughed to clear his throat, not looking her in the eye as he pulled off his scarf and hat. Outside, the start of a minor blizzard whipped the winds and snow in painful flurries, but the mines were always much warmer. Even just a few feet in the entryway The Farmer was starting to warm up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, don’t you?” A playful grin touched her face. “So all those times I’ve seen you over at the Mullner’s house these last few days were just my imagination.” 

The Farmer walked over to a chest on the far side of the cavern and stuffed his winter clothes into it. He and Abby had hauled it up here a few weeks ago. It was far easier to leave their heavy outside clothes here and change into their spelunking clothes after they’d arrived. Dragging the extra clothing down into the mines with them would simply slow them down if they ran into any trouble. He didn’t look at her as he exchanged his boots for a pair of old tennis shoes.

 “I’ll have you know that Evelyn has been inviting me over and teaching me how to cook new recipes. I’m a grown-ass man and I refuse to be teased about my relationship with Alex by you.” 

“Oh, ho, ho,” Abby’s smile only got more mischievous, an eyebrow arching up at his words. “Farmer, you’re actually calling it a relationship now. Has there been some development you’re not telling me about?” 

“No,” The Farmer said quickly. He felt himself blush, "Although, Alex has been a bit more...affectionate lately.” 

"Care you elaborate?" 

"I mean, he keeps making these little touches to my shoulder or face when he teases me. Then when we hung out in his rooms talking the other day, he sat like really close to me and kept getting into my personal space. Plus..." 

"Plus what?" 

The Farmer turned to Abby and pouted at her pitifully. "Abby, he asked if it was okay to work out in front of me and then took of his shirt. Do you know how hard it is to not stare at him when he's three feet away and half-naked?" 

Abby beamed, throwing her arm around The Farmer.  “See! I told you that once you drop that cynical attitude, you’ll be happier. And if my friend is happy, I’m happy. Weather he has a dumb jock boyfriend or otherwise.” 

“He’s not dumb, nor his he my boyfriend.” 

“Mm, not yet at least.” Abby let him go, making her way to the mine’s elevator. “But if you ask me, he’s at least a himbo.” 

The Farmer rolled his eyes but allowed himself a small smile. “He’s not a himbo. He’s kind, good looking, and only a little dumb.”

“That’s literally the definition of a himbo,” Abby said to him as he stepped into the elevator next to her and pulled the door shut. Abby pushed the button for the 30th floor, and the elevator rumbled to life before slowly beginning the descent. 

“You know, this elevator is kinda weird.” Abby remarked. “No one’s used it for years, but it seems to be in perfect working order. Plus it’s got buttons to go as deep as the 120th floor, but the buttons only work if we climbed that far down on our own before.” 

“Yeah, when I reached the fifth floor for the first time and I heard the elevator chime to life it nearly gave me a heart attack,” The Farmer said. “All those stories about this place being haunted really get to you.” 

“Plus we’re here in the dead of night,” Abby pulled out her phone quickly, despite losing service the second they'd walked into the mines. The clock on the lock screen read nine-thirty. “Why’d you want to come here so late anyways? Usually we head off first thing in the morning and get back before dinner.” 

“Clint called me and said he ran into an issue while fixing up my old axe. Apparently, the tool was so old that it didn’t mix well with the new copper. So, he offered to make me a brand new one free of charge, so long as I bring him some more ore for it.” 

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival on the 30^th floor. Abby snorted and rolled her eyes as she stepped out into the small floor. “You mean he broke your axe and now he’s sending you on an errand run so he can make you a new one.” 

The Farmer shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I don’t think he meant anything mean by it. He asked nice enough and his craftsmanship is always top-notch.” 

“Now if only we could do something about that personality of his. I bet he spends his free time complaining on incel forums on the web.” Abby shot The Farmer a sly grin.

“Hey now, that’s just mean. He’s a pretty nice guy.” 

“Exactly what he says in those forums. He spends all that time in the Saloon while giving Emily that forlorn look at night.” Abby deepened her voice, imitating Clint’s, “I treat her like a human being with basic kindness and can’t say more than two sentences to her. How long until I get to see her boobies?” 

The Farmer rolled his eyes, trying to not smile or laugh. “Alright, stop being mean. Unless you plan to just bad mouth Clint all night instead of helping me.” 

Abby hopped over to The Farmer, saluting him. “Abigail reporting for duty sir!” 

The Farmer gestured to the hole in the floor at the far side of the cavern; the top rungs of a ladder stuck out of it. “Cadets first then.” 

Abby pulled out her small flashlight, holding it between her teeth and giving one final salute to The Farmer before sliding down the ladder. The Farmer laughed as she disappeared into the darkness. He found that enjoyed his trips here with Abby and rarely came by himself anymore. Sure, they hadn’t gotten that far in, but the ever-encroaching darkness of the mines stopped being so suffocating with her joyful personality around. 

The Farmer followed her down quickly, pulling out his own flashlight and sword. Abby already had her sword drawn, the steel gleaming in the dim light. Her flashlight slowly scanned the room around them as The Farmer affixed his pickaxe to his belt; just something to make mining a little faster in case they did come across a vein of ore. 

“There’s a slime down there,” Abby whispered, nodding off to a passage down to their left. The room they stood in was fairly large, at least twice the size of the room above them, and The Farmer counted three different passages branching off. The only light source on this floor came from the hole above them and their flashlights. Usually there was some sort of luminescent rock or torches left behind from whoever previously mined these caverns, but this floor looked almost untouched. Large boulders littered most of the floor, piled together like they’d dropped off the ceiling. 

“Did it see us?” The Farmer asked. 

Abby shook her head. “No, I think we’re safe for now. What do you wanna do, clear the floor first?” 

The Farmer took a moment to ponder, eyes sweeping around the room quickly. “No, I don’t need to get that much ore. I’m gonna check if any of these boulders have copper veins. You watch my back. With any luck we won’t have to go too far to find any.” 

Abby nodded and the two set to work. The Farmer made his way slowly around the room, his hands brushing over the rocks he touched in search for the metallic gleam of any copper. Abby walked a few steps ahead of him, her flashlight flicking between each passageway every few seconds. They worked meticulously, moving from room to room slowly and carefully, having to only take on the occasional slime monster and angry oversized bat. 

The passageways had each lead to another room, roughly the same size as the first. They breezed through the first two, finding small fragments as they worked, but not nearly enough to make an entirely new head for an axe. It wasn’t until the third room that they struck gold, so to speak. The Farmer found a boulder with several large veins of visible copper ore running through it. 

“Is this enough?” Abby asked, shoving the last piece into her bag after The Farmer had finished breaking the boulder with his pickaxe. 

The Farmer swung his backpack back on, having deposited the last piece himself. “Yeah, we should be fine now.” 

“And my horoscope said I had rotten luck today,” Abby joked, giving The Farmer a playful punch on his shoulder. “But look at us, we didn’t even have to go down to the next floor.” 

“Don’t jinx us,” The Farmer swept his flashlight around the room. “We still have to make it back to the ladder and pray the elevator doesn’t give out on us.” 

“Well if you say it like that, then the elevator will absolutely give out on us.” Abby’s flashlight joined The Farmer’s in sweeping the cavern’s walls. “You don’t want the elevator to hear you, do you? All electronics can smell fear and I tell you, they love to make us sweat.” 

The Farmer laughed. He twisted himself around, still looking for the passageway back to the main room. “There used to be a printer at my old job that I hated. I swear it had it out for me.” 

Abby chuckled, but there was little joy in her voice as something else started to creep in. “Ha, ha, yeah. I know what you mean.” She fell silent, the light from her flashlight whipping around more quickly as seconds ticked by. “Uh, farmer?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Why can’t we find the exit?” 

The Farmer and Abby shared a panicked look. He didn’t respond to her question. He didn’t want to admit that the passage they’d walked through was missing now. All around them was bumpy, dark stone, not an exit in sight. 

“We’re just not looking hard enough, right?” Abby whispered. Her voice was starting to shake. “And does it feel colder to you?” 

“A little,” The Farmer whispered back. He could feel his brain pumping adrenaline into his system, trying to fight back the fear and panic that wanted to take root. Surely, they’d just missed it. Maybe they just overlooked it. Several times. In a row. 

But then The Farmer’s flashlight passed over something that caught his eye. He focused beam of light back to the stack of boulders it had just passed. He kept it hovering there, watching the stone like a barn owl watching a mouse. 

Abby noticed his focused attention, her own flashlight joining his. The Farmer felt her hand come to gently rest on his arm, probably more for her comfort than his. “What is it?” She asked. 

“I don’t know…” The Farmer admitted. “But, do you remember there being piles of rocks like this when we first entered the room?” 

The Farmer felt Abby freeze in place beside him. She didn’t answer, but he knew what her response would have been. It wasn’t just the rock pile their flashlights were trained on. The longer The Farmer looked around, the more suspicious looking piles he spotted. A chill of panic swept down his back, prickling his gooseflesh and making the hair all over his body stand on end. 

“Watch my back,” The Farmer whispered. “I have an idea. Turn off your flashlight” 

Abby nodded silently, removing her hand from his arm, and gripping the hilt of her sword tightly instead. The Farmer placed his own sword and flashlight quietly down on the floor, then slid off his backpack. He pulled out a torch and a lighter, quickly igniting the cloth at the end of it. He then turned off his own flashlight, placing it back into his backpack and sliding the bag back on. He picked up his sword, and with a tense glance at Abby, tossed the torch into the air. 

The light source sailed through the air for a terrifying, silent second, and then clattered across the stony floor. It rolled a few more feet, flame flickering wildly as it went, before coming to a rest. The silence was restored for several moments, and then something moved. 

The stone piles in the room all rotated without sound, slowly twisting and turning towards the torch. On several of them, The Farmer spotted small holes with flashes of silver in them, resembling eye sockets in the rock that was topmost on the pile. They moved without sound, gliding across the stone floor like wingless figures over water. A memory crossed The Farmer’s mind, recalling the day he’d found the Junimos facing off against the mud monster. 

“Golems.” The Farmer whispered. 

“Golems?” Abby hissed a little too loud. The two closest to her stopped advancing towards the torch and began to slowly rotate in their direction. “But what are they-”

The Farmer slapped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off. Abby glared at him angrily, but The Farmer returned it with a wide-eyed glare of his own. He jerked his head at the two golems that had stopped advancing on the torch. They’d rotated back in their direction and were slowly beginning to inch towards them. “I think they react to sound and light.” He whispered before removing his hands. 

Abby looked over at the approaching monsters, quickly reaching down to grab a small rock and tossed it in another direction. The sound of the bouncing stone filled the room, and the two golems began their advance in the direction it had landed. When they were far enough away, Abby leaned into The Farmer’s ear. “But I read that golems are made by wizards and witches to serve them. What are a bunch of them doing down here?” 

The Farmer shrugged. “Maybe there’s some magic in the mines? This place has been abandoned for a long time. We gotta get out of here. I don’t want to know what happens when one of them catches us.” 

Abby nodded, looking around the cavern. She suddenly pointed to a spot opposite of where the torch had landed. “There!” She hissed. 

The Farmer looked to where she was pointing, seeing the passageway they’d previously come through. Although now he knew why they hadn’t noticed it. The whole thing was filled with golems, and their identical color blended in with the cavern’s walls, making it seem like a blocked passage previously. They’d moved enough now, drawn to the torch, that he could see a small path winding through the golems’ bodies. 

“We just have to lure some more out, right?” Abby started picking up small rocks all around her, but The Farmer reached out to stop her.

“Wait! Look at that.” He nodded over towards a golem nearest the passageway. The pile of rocks was shaking slightly, and soon a small portion resembling an arm broke off, shortly followed by another. The arms moved about randomly, as if testing the air around it with this newfound movement. “I think the more they move, the more they wake up. We should get out of here as soon as possible.” 

Abby nodded. The two began to tip-toe across the room. The Farmer could hear his heart beating heavy, like a drum against his ears. Despite their best efforts, not even they could silence their footsteps completely. A few of the golems rotated slowly in their direction as they passed by, causing the fear coursing through his body to pump his heart even faster. He prayed to Yoba the golems couldn’t hear it. What could they hope to do against monsters who were made up completely of stone? The only weapons they had at their disposal were some old swords that would surely go blunt or even shatter if they tried to use them. 

After the longest minute he’d ever known, he and Abby reached the beginning of the passageway. The way through was even narrower than he’d initially thought, but they didn’t have a whole lot of time to get through. The golem who’d grown arms was slowly starting to pull its legs apart, and The Farmer didn’t want to be nearby when it did. He glanced back at Abby a final time, her figure barely visible in the flickering light. He sheathed his sword before stealing his nerves and starting forward. 

He’d taken less than two steps before his foot slipped on a small pebble. He yelped and then had to duck as a stone arm shot overhead him. The golem nearest it had decided now was the perfect time to sprout arms and was flailing wildly, hitting other golems and causing them to sprout their arms as well. Behind them, the head of first golem that had grown arms and legs sprouted upwards. Two white lights filled the sockets in its head, and a part of the face fell away into a black jaw, letting free a shrill scream. 

The scream reverberated through the cavern, setting off a chain reaction among the other golems as it echoed. The stone monsters quickly sprouted arms, legs, and heads of their own, all coming to life in the matter of seconds.

The Farmer shot his hand backwards, latching onto Abby’s arm tightly. “We have to go!”

Abby gave no resistance as he pulled her forward, darting between the golems that were still spouting new limbs left and right. The two ran, managing to reach the first room in no time at all. The roars of the monsters behind them grew as more found their voices and joined in the cacophony of sound that was enveloping them. The ladder was just ahead, the light from the floor above shining down as their beacon of hope. But that hope did not warm them. Standing before their salvation were at least ten more golems, all fully formed. 

The nearest one lunged, aiming between them and forcing The Farmer to let go of Abby. Abby screamed as she dodged.

“Get away!” She swung her sword at it out of instinct. The metal twang rang as it bounced harmlessly off the golem's body. She let out a cry of pain, dropping her sword as she did. The Farmer barely noticed her hand still shaking from the vibration of the impact. The golem roared, raising its arms menacingly above itself. 

“Look out!” The Farmer charged the golem, throwing himself shoulder-first into the monster. Pain seared throughout his side, but he had gotten enough momentum to send the monster stumbling a few feet away. The Farmer deftly removed the pickaxe from this belt and them buried the tip of it into the golems head. The stone making up the creatures body crumpled into a heap. He turned to Abby, shouting, “Let’s go!” 

Abby nodded, holding her hurt hand close to her chest. The two charged for the ladder, making little headway, and barely reaching the center of the room before dread filled The Farmer. They were surrounded, forced into the middle of a small circle of monsters that was steadily growing in number as more golems poured into the room. 

“Farmer, what do we do?” Abby asked, her voice trembling. 

He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know what they were supposed to do. His mind raced, trying to come up with any solution that could get them out of here. His shoulder throbbed painfully, and every scenario he came up with ended in failure. They were both injured, and there was still a ladder between them and freedom.  

An idea solidified in The Farmer’s head, and he shot a look over at the ladder. He hoisted his pickaxe up in both hands, grimacing through the pain in his right side. “I’ll make an opening. You run towards the ladder.” 

“What about you?” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“No wait!” 

The Farmer didn’t wait to hear Abby’s objection. He ran towards the ladder, swinging his pick at the closest golem. The point of the tool found purchase, and it drove into the golem’s body several inches. The Farmer swiftly drove his heel into the stone, kicking the golem back and freeing his pickaxe, tearing away a good chunk of stone as well. He then swung at the next one, continuing to attack any that came near. 

Seeing one of their own injured, the golems did not rush in immediately. They waited until they saw an opening before lunging. The Farmer just barely managed to duck or dodge out of the way of the initial attacks, but a few stone fists landed. Pain covered his body, spreading like waves from the epicenter of an earthquake where he’d been hit. Out of the corner of his eye, he realized too late that there was another attack surging towards his face.

Then a flashlight swung through the air, hitting the golem’s arm, and steering it off course just enough to miss The Farmer’s head. Abby’s hair filled his vision as she jumped between him and the golem, kicking the monster away just as he’d done with the first. 

“Shit!” She yelled, favoring her other leg as she stood beside him. “These things hurt like hell. How are we supposed to push them back?” 

“What are you doing?” The Farmer demanded. “You need to get out of here. We both can’t make it out of this situation.” 

“Yeah, not if I leave you alone,” Abby shot back. “And I’m not going to leave my friend here in some monster infested hole! I’m staying whether you like it or not.” 

The Farmer opened his mouth to yell back. But that’s when he spotted it. A black monster at the back of the cave, body made completely of shadows. Two horns stuck out on the top of its head, and it wore an orange tribal-like mask that was so large it almost covered its entire body. The monster raised a hand that clutched a small stick, curving it through the air like it was writing something.

Before The Farmer could respond to this new monster, there was a small flash of silver in front of it. Black shadows rapidly shot out from behind its body covering the entirety of the cavern and filling The Farmer’s vision with complete darkness. He couldn’t even see his own hands in front of his face. 

“Farmer?” Abby’s panicked voice shouted from behind him. It was quickly replaced by a scream of pain, and he heard her body fall behind him. “No, stay away!” She continued to shout, “Why can’t I see anything?” 

More pain erupted across The Farmer’s stomach as something hard and jagged raked across it and cut into his skin. He could barely even cry out, the blow having knocked the breath out of him. Another hit landed on his right cheek, sending him spinning to the floor. As he lay there, he could tell he was bleeding from the first blow, the blood causing his clothes to stick to the area around the wound. He tried to pull himself up, but another hit to his gut knocked him away. Dread filled him, tears welling up in his eyes. Was this it?

“Get away!” Abby’s voice came again. It was followed by the shattering of glass and metal as her flailing about caused her flashlight to smash into another golem and break. “Leave us alone!” 

Abby’s voice filled the cavern again, but this time the crackle of electricity accompanied it. A loud ‘BOOM’ resonated throughout the cavern, nearly blowing out The Farmer’s eardrum. It sounded like lightning had struck nearby and was quickly joined by the screams of the golems. A second later, The Farmer’s vision returned. He was able to barely register from his position on the floor that the shadow monster disappeared. Its mask and wand clattering to the ground. The golems around them fell apart into useless rocks, tumbling harmlessly away. 

The Farmer heard Abby’s voice hiss and swear in pain. Metal clattered to the floor, and the flashlight rolled into his vision. It glowed bright orange, almost molten in color. He wanted to get up to check on her, but The Farmer found his limbs could summon no strength. The wound around his stomach grew cold. 

His body was picked up, and he was pulled into Abby’s lap. Tears fell from her eyes, racing down her cheeks and dropping onto his face from her chin. She was saying something, but The Farmer couldn’t make out what she said. Her hand pressed into his stomach, and he sensed a slight warmth from it, like it’d been burned. 

The Farmer couldn’t look away from her eyes. It was probably the loss of blood, but he could swear her blue eyes glowed and little white stars danced about them. She kept crying, her wordless mouth continuing to yell at him. His eyelids grew heavy, and the idea of a nap suddenly sounded exceptionally good. Abby pulled him close, and the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was a white ring of light shoot from Abby’s body.

Alex shot up from the couch. His late-night dinner clattered to the floor, dishes shattering on impact and food staining the rug beneath his feet. His eyes went immediately to the window. The glass rattled in its frame, bracing itself against the high winds of the blizzard outside. He could feel himself shaking with it, fearful. 

Next to him, George muted the TV. “What the hell was that?” His grandfather said. 

“Wasn’t that Pierre’s daughter’s voice?” Evelyn asked. She held one hand to her chest, forehead creased in worry. 

Before any of them could speculate further, they heard two muffled voices shouting outside. Alex ran for the door without saying anything, throwing it open and running into the blizzard. Just down the road, he spotted Pierre and his wife Carol standing outside the general store. Their figures were barely visible under the light that shown down over the front door. Alex could hear them screaming their daughter’s name. 

“Abigail! Where are you?” Pierre shouted. “What’s happening?” 

“Abigail!” Carol screamed. “Abigail!” 

Alex ran over to them, pushing through the pilling snow, and Pierre spotted him first. The man ran over to Alex, grabbing him by both shoulders and fingers digging painfully into Alex’s skin. Pierre has a crazed look in his eyes, both wide and fearful. “Did you hear that!? What’s happening? Where’s my daughter?”  

Alex shook his head quickly. “I-I just heard her scream for help. I don’t-” 

“Pierre!” Another voice yelled over the wind of the blizzard. The two looked to it, seeing Lewis trekking towards them, flanked by Harvey and Marnie. Carol ran over to them, joining the group. Lewis had one arm raised against the flurry of snow, trying to talk over the snow. “What’s happening? Is Abigail okay? We heard her yell.” 

“We don’t know,” Carol said, her voice almost a choked sob. “We just heard her scream for somebody to help her.” 

“Do you know where she is?” 

Pierre shook his head. Tears were freezing to his cheeks under his glasses. “We thought she was in her room, but it was empty. We didn’t even know she was going out tonight!” 

“Then we’ll have to look for her! For all of us to hear her she’s probably caught somewhere in this blizzard nearby and hurt.” Lewis turned to Marnie and Harvey. “Marnie, go back to the Saloon and organize a search party.  No one goes out alone, this wind and snow will just end up getting more people lost in it. Harvey, can you go get the clinic prepped in case she's hurt?” 

Marnie and Harvey both agreed, setting off in their respective directions. Lewis then turned to Alex. “I assume you’ll help too, son?” 

Alex nodded, his whole body shaking, but something at the back of his mind nagged at him and told him it wasn’t from the cold. “I’m going to grab my coat and then I’ll be back.” 

He split away from the group, quickly returning home. He explained the situation to his grandparents while tugging his winter clothing. They told him to be careful, and he promised he would, before returning to the blizzard outside. 

Lewis, Pierre, and Carol had all disappeared, and Alex assumed they’d gone to the Saloon again. Before he could take a step in that direction, there was a loud bang from Dusty’s enclosure and a flash of red light. Seconds later, Alex spotted another flash of red color charge through the snow. A small, block-like creature rode on the back of Saber, the cat's orange pelt standing out starkly against the white snow. Dusty appeared next, pausing for only a moment to bark before charging after Saber. 

Alex followed, disappearing into the blizzard. 

Alone.

Chapter Text

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 15

With every intake of breath, Alex could feel the icy winter wind rake its claws down his throat. His lungs screamed in agony, but he forced himself to endure it. He pushed through the piling snow, already whipped into waist high dunes by the blizzard. He could feel the weather sapping the energy from his body, and he was already using the last of his willpower just to keep his limbs moving. His sweat was cold and damp against his skin, soaking into his clothing along with whatever melted snow the blizzard assaulted him with. But no matter what this storm threw at him, Alex refused to lose sight of the dim red glow ahead of him. 

Dusty’s occasional bark was carried to Alex’s ear on the back of the biting wind. It was just about the only thing that assured him he wasn’t insane; that he had seen his dog and Saber back in town. As Alex followed the animals higher into the mountains, he couldn’t shake the dread that was slowly creeping through him. It thrashed hard against his stomach, and made Alex want to just bend over and start heaving. He’d always known blizzards were bad, but he’d never had any reason to be out in one before. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been out here or how deep he’d followed Dusty into the mountains; the mixing snow and darkness muddled all sense of time and direction.

“Abby!” 

“Abigail, where are you?”

Several voices, hoarse with panic, reached Alex’s ears. He shielded his eyes best he could and peered ahead. The panic fed the growing dread-beast in his gut when he realized the red glow was gone. Instead, he could make out distinct lines of light cutting through the snow, like searchlights arcing across the sky. One of the beams suddenly focused on him, then they all did.

“Abby!”

Alex could make out a figure behind the light as it quickly approached him. It wasn’t until they were almost nose-to-nose did Sebastian’s face come into view. He was dressed in full winter gear from head to toe and his expression of relief melted into confusion when the light focused on Alex’s face. He yelled over the storm, “Alex? What the hell are you doing out here?” 

Alex wasn’t sure he’d could still talk. His lungs already burned; he wouldn’t be surprised if the icy clutches of the storm had shattered his voice box. “Abby…heard her voice…my dog…” He wheezed, and suddenly broke into a coughing fit.  

The other figures had gathered around them—Maru, Robin, and Demetrius—all similarly dressed and looking equally worried. Robin went immediately to Alex’s side, hands on his back to support him however she could.

“Wait, you heard her from town?” Sebastian asked. “How?”

Before Alex could summon the words ‘I don’t know,’ barking reached his ears. Dusty quickly came bounding out of the darkness and dove into the middle of the group. The dog bounced several times in one spot before settling at Alex’s feet and continuing to bark.

“There’s something tied to his collar.” Robin said, kneeling to untie it. As she pulled the object from the dog’s collar, Alex’s blood froze. In her hands, Robin held one of The Farmer’s handkerchief’s, thoroughly soaked with blood. 

Dusty barked and then bounded back into the darkness of the storm. Alex snatched the handkerchief from Robin and then shot after his dog, not bothering to even explain his actions. The monster in his gut used his panic and began to call up and distort Alex’s thoughts and he no longer had the strength left to banish them.

Alex’s heart beat so intensely against his ribcage it threatened to burst. The Farmer’s handkerchief burned painfully in his grip and frostbite nipped at his knuckles. He was following Dusty into a frozen hell, filled with the endless torture of whipping snow and his own vicious thoughts.

Dusty barked, and up ahead Alex could make out the dim light of a lantern that flailed in the blizzard. Below it, the dark maw of a cavern entrance loomed. Dusty dove into the cave, and with every ounce of Alex’s burning resolve, he followed.

The sounds of the storm cut out almost immediately. In the dim lighting cast from the exposed lightbulbs that hung around the inside of the cave, Alex immediately spotted Abby hobbling out of the elevator at the back of the cave. Her face was streaked with dirt, her clothes torn, and she nursed her hands under her armpits. When she saw Alex and Dusty, fresh tears rolled down her checks, cutting through the dirt.

“Alex!” Abby’s voice was hoarse and raspy, like she’d just spent the last week screaming. “P-Please, we have to help him!” 

Alex opened his mouth to ask who, but his eyes fell to the elevator behind her and the question  was lost as his shriveled up and closed. Completely limp against the side of the elevator, sitting in a pile of his own blood, was The Farmer.

All feeling drained from Alex’s face. His body moved on its own, and in seconds he was kneeling before The Farmer. He suddenly shut out the entire world. Nothing else existed to him except for the man in the elevator. Alex could only muster enough strength to raise one hand. His arm trembled as he slowly reached out, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch The Farmer’s face.

Desperation pulled at the corners of his mind. The first thought through Alex’s head was denial, that this wasn’t reality. This had to be just another one of his twisted nightmares. Normally, something else would have happened by now. Seconds ticked by and nothing changed, and with every tick, his terror grew. It felt as if the earth below him had given way and swallowed him whole. The horror of nothingness enveloped him. He forgot how to breathe, he forgot what air even was or why he needed it; his entire existence was shutting down just to avoid having to accept reality that was forming in his head.

The very thought that The Farmer might be dead, suffocated him. 

A hand slid under Alex’s arm, jarringly pulling him away. Alex was brought to his feet, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the elevator. The hand that pulled him up cupped his face, and Alex found himself forced to look at Robin.

Her lips were moving, but Alex didn’t hear her words. The only thing he could hear was a high-pitched ringing that cut through his eardrums. Robin's other hand was in front of her chest, lifting it up and down in a slow and repetitive motion. She made exaggerated movements as she breathed, and something clicked in Alex’s brain. While moments ago, he couldn’t even process what breathing was, he now realized his breathing was quick and shallow, making him lightheaded.

Alex registered movement in the cave behind him, but when he tried to look, Robin firmly held his head in place. She tapped her own chest, taking a deep breath in. Alex mimicked her as best he could. She exhaled, and Alex did the same. After a few repetitions, Alex was finally able to match his breathing to Robins. Inhale for six seconds, exhale for eight. Over, and over again. Eventually, the ringing in his ears dimmed.

“Alex honey,” Robin said. “Hey, I need you to be calm now, okay?”

He nodded, unsure if he could do anything else right now.

“He’s breathing, but he’s lost a lot of blood.” Maru’s voice reached Alex’s ear like a brick hurled through a church’s stained-glass window. Now that Robin had released him, he turned around and found Maru and Demetrius kneeling over The Farmer.

The Farmer had been moved from the elevator shaft and was now lying on the cavern floor. Maru had taken her jacket off and used it to prop his head up while she knelt over his stomach.

Alex’s eyes fell on the wound and he wanted to vomit. The Farmer’s shirt had been pulled up, revealing a gash across the man’s stomach that looked like someone had taken a razor blade to a bowl of Jell-O and then poured chunky tomato soup over it. Demetrius was at The Farmer’s head; two fingers were on The Farmer’s neck while Demetrius kept his eyes on his watch. Maru was knelt over the wound and was uncapping a water bottle.

“Maru!” Sebastian's came running into the cave, a white and red case in his hands. He basically shoved it into his sister’s hands. “Do you need me? Abby’s at home running her hands under water but she doesn’t want to be alone.”

“No, go. There’s a possibility she might faint from the shock once the adrenaline leaves her system, so stay by her side.” Maru opened the case and was already pulling the plastic wrapped and sterilized supplies out. “Her burns looked like they’re almost second degree, so make sure she wraps them in a damp cloth afterwards. Then bring her to the clinic as soon as the blizzard lets up.”

“Right,” Sebastian’s gaze lingered on The Farmer before he flicked his eyes up to Alex. The sadness and fear in Sebastian’s eyes was like a knife and was plugged into Alex’s heart. Did he know something else? How bad was Maru’s initial assessment when Alex had been in the middle of his panic attack?

When Sebastian had gone, Maru gave more orders. “Mom, call Harvey and tell him what happened. Alex, are you okay now? I need you to help me.”

“Tell me what to do.” The words sprang from his mouth. Something about having her there, calm and collected, solidified his own emotions. She knew what to do. He wouldn’t need to worry about his own fried out brain trying to frantically recall high school first aid.

Alex knelt next to Maru, putting on the latex gloves she handed him. He acted as her supply dealer, giving her whatever she asked for out of the first aid kit: tweezers, more water, packets of gauze. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the wound as she worked, half out of concern, half out of morbid curiosity. He prayed that the objects Maru was only pulled and cut away were only blood-soaked rocks and shredded parts of The Farmer’s shirt.

It felt as if hours were passing as Maru worked. At one point, Robin had stepped between Maru and Alex, holding the phone up to her daughter’s ear. The conversation she was having with Harvey sounded like gibberish to Alex, but he held to his resolve that Maru knew what she was doing.

Then, The Farmer groaned. Alex’s attention, like everyone else’s in the cavern, snapped to The Famer.

“H-Hey!” Alex’s voice cracked with surprise and fear. “Hey, hey, hey…” He felt stupid, repeating the same word, but his brain functionality was completely shot. What else could he even say at this time?

“Farmer,” Maru cut in, currently tapping a piece of white gauze to The Farmer’s stomach. “Can you understand me?”

“Wha’ ha...happen…” The Farmer’s voice was weak. It wasn’t hoarse like Abby’s. It was a sober quiet, like a drunkard who’d just realized their hallucination wasn’t a hallucination.

“You were hurt,” Maru said. “I’m going to do what I can to help you, but I need to get you to the clinic. Do you think you can walk?”

The Farmer very weakly lifted a few fingers on his left hand. A grunt of pain escaped the man before his fingers fell limp and his head lulled to one side.

A strangled cry erupted from Alex’s throat; a sorrowful but meaningless sound.

“He has a pulse,” Demetrius assured quickly. “I think he’s only fainted.”

Maru swore under her breath. Alex’s attention quickly shifted to the gauze under Maru’s gloved fingers. He was already seeing red spots start to pepper the wrapping. “We need to get him off the mountain as soon as possible. I...I don’t know how deep the wound. Something is stopping the blood from clotting properly and Harvey doesn’t want me to stitch it up until we know the extent of the damage.”

“Lewis is going to try and make it up in his pickup,” Robin reported.

“What? You can’t be serious.” Demetrius said. “Even if he doesn't get blown off the road, and snow and ice will have him in a ditch in minutes.”

“Even if he is careful, it might be too late.” Maru muttered.

Alex’s head snapped to her. “What?”

Maru’s eye twitched, and an expression like she was annoyed at herself crossed her face. She chewed the inside of her cheek, looking for words to deflect to.

While she did, Alex made a desperate scan around the room.  He felt as if he were grasping at straws when he threw up the idea, “What about that?”

Maru looked to where he’d nodded. “The minecarts?”

“The tracks lead right to Clint’s place, right?” Alex ran with the idea. If what Maru had said was true, they needed something. “We can bring him down that way. It’ll be faster than waiting for Lewis.”

“But the minecarts haven’t worked properly in months,” Robin said. “What if they get stuck halfway?” 

Demetrius had already moved to examine the minecart. Alex had to admit that it did look pretty sketchy. The frame and wheels were suffering from an onset of rust, and a small collection of mushrooms had grown out of several spots, but he was desperate. He needed anything, something to work.

“These carts have motors on them,” Demetrius said. He stuck his arm under the cart and fiddled around until Alex heard a ‘click,’ and a soft rumble filled the room. Demetrius looked over the cart one more time. “The engine seems fine, and if I remember right, most of the track is either underground or covered. It should be a safe journey to the bottom.” 

“How long would it take?” Alex asked. 

“Three, maybe five minutes max. These things were made transport ore quickly, but they’re also old.  I don’t know if it will hold up the entire way down.”

Alex looked to Maru. She was purposefully avoiding looking back at him, but Alex could see the wheels turning in her head. Her lips were pulled into a tight line as she mulled over the idea.

“Alex is right,” Robin said, placing a hand on Maru’s shoulder. “We need to take the chance on the minecart. Even if the engine gives out, it will at least get The Farmer part of the way down faster and safer than we could. We can’t risk bringing him down in the blizzard ourselves.”

“Okay,” Maru stood, pulling off her gloves. “But if I’m not down with The Farmer in five minutes, send someone up the tracks to meet us.” 

“You? No, I’m going with him” Alex said.

Maru’s brows furled together in a scowl. “No, Alex, I am. Harvey is going to need me once The Farmer reaches the clinic. Besides, what if his condition worsens on the way down? You wouldn’t know what to do.” 

“What if the cart stops halfway down, could you carry him?” Alex countered. “Out of everyone here, I’m the strongest. I can easily deadlift The Farmer’s weight. Your dad said it himself, he’s not sure the cart will even make it the whole way. You wouldn’t be able to carry him, and we don't know who will be at the bottom to help you.”

His heartbeat thundered in his chest. He knew his words were irrational and selfish. He knew Maru was probably the better bet. He couldn't even recall the first aspect of basic first aid right now. All he knew was that he couldn’t stand to be separated from The Farmer. He would sooner cling to the side of the minecart than let Maru go alone. He wasn’t going to be stuck on the other side of a door and be told he was never going to see The Farmer.  Not again.

Again.

The word resonated like a gong in Alex’s head, and a brief twinge of pain shot through his skull. Again? Why again? Why did it feel like he’d done this before?

Maru chewed on her thumbnail, oblivious to Alex’s thought and staring down at The Farmer’s unconscious body. A few tense moments passed before Maru’s eyebrow twitched and she huffed angrily. “Fine, you and The Farmer will ride down. Mom, tell Harvey to expect Alex at the bottom. Dad, you and Alex help me get The Farmer into the cart.”

Everyone took their positions around The Farmer at Maru’s direction and gently lifted him to the cart. Alex crawled into the back of the minecart first, gingerly lifting The Farmer’s body as he did. Alex expected a groan of discomfort or something from the man, but the silence that came from him sent an icy chill down Alex’s neck. Maru and Demetrius settled The Farmer in, but it was a tight squeeze. The Farmer sat nestled between Alex’s legs, his limp weight heavy against Alex’s chest.

Demetrius and Maru both then started a rapid-fire of information. Alex tried desperately to carve everything they were saying into his brain like hieroglyphics. Even then, the best his overworked mind could muster was recalling which buttons on the small panel to his right turned the minecart’s motor on and off.

“If, Yoba forbid,” Maru said, “The minecart does stop halfway, make sure you keep his stomach at the same height as his heart. It’ll help slow the bleeding.” She paused briefly to put a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Remember, stay calm. You can’t help him if you’re too panicked to do anything. I’ll see you at the bottom.”

Dusty trodded up to the cart, sitting next to Maru. Dusty had been so quiet through all this that Alex had forgotten the dog was even there. He reached out and scratched Dusty behind the ear. “Thanks boy. You did great.”

A soft whimper came from Dusty in response.

Alex replaced his arm around The Farmer, pulling the other man protectively close. “I’ll see you guys at the bottom.”

He pushed the button that Demetrius had identified as ‘Go,’ and the minecart’s engine rumbled louder beneath him. The wheels screeched forward with a jolt before the cart began moving at a surprising speed. He had just enough time to glance backwards before they rounded the corner to see Maru and Demetrius disappear out of the cave and into the blizzard.

As the darkness of the mineshaft swallowed them, the anxiety that Alex had been forcing down through sheer willpower began to bloom. Like the tendrils of a creeping vine, Alex could feel it grow from his chest and slowly wrap itself around his body. He tightened his own hold around The Farmer again, trying to ignore how much colder the other man felt. He forced himself to breath in and out like Robin had him do earlier. The creeping anxiety crawled back a little, and his fear lessened.

The minecart started turning, and they began picking up speed. The path was descending on a gentle slope now. The metal grind of the wheel against the rail filled Alex’s ears, accented by a loud ‘whoosh’ sound whenever they passed a support beam. His eyes were slow to adjust; he could barely make out the edges of the passage as they rode by.  It was all he could do just to see the outline of The Farmer in front of him.

With each little bump, the question of ‘How much longer?’ echoed in Alex’s head. His hands itched and he nervously tried to recall which button killed the engine. They were still gaining speed, but what if they needed to stop suddenly? Was there even an emergency brake on this thing? What if they crashed? Wouldn’t that mean The Farmer got hurt even more because of Alex’s idea? 

“A-Alex?”

The Farmer shifted very slightly in Alex’s grip. Alex’s heart leapt into his throat. The Farmer was talking again. That had to be a good sign, right? He slid one of his hands down into The Farmers, interlocking their fingers. “I’m here.”

“W... what…” The Farmer cut himself off with a sharp hiss of pain when they hit one of the larger bumps in the track. His voice was weak, barely audible above the noise from the minecart. 

“H-Hey, don’t talk.” Alex stuttered. He felt a fluttering in his chest that made it hard to breath. He squeezed The Farmer’s hand tighter, rubbing his thumb roughly against the other man’s sink. “You were hurt. Save your strength. It’s going to be okay.” 

“Abby…”

“Is okay. Abby’s okay.” Alex quickly finished. “Don’t talk, just, just listen to me. Focus on my voice.” 

The Farmer didn’t say anything at first. They rode along the bumpy mineshaft in silence. Alex feared that The Farmer had passed out again until he felt a very weak, but gentle squeeze in his hand.  

“We’re gonna get you to Harvey’s, and everything will be okay. Because...because if you, if you’re not okay then I…” The words died on Alex’s tongue, leaving a bitter ash-like taste in his mouth. He’d banished the thought from his mind so many times tonight. Somehow, he felt that if he spoke it into existence, it’d become something real, and then it might come true. His chest hurt and tears were gathering on the corners of his eyes. Alex crumbled in on himself, holding The Farmer much more tightly than he probably should have. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you... Not again.” 

Suddenly, a bitter cold blew through the tunnel, and the minecart took a sharp turn. The sudden shift forced Alex to drop the Farmer’s hand, bracing it against the side of the minecart instead so that The Farmer didn’t slam his head against it. Alex’s own head shot up, and about fifty feet ahead of them, the tunnel opened up. He could make out the forest just beyond the entrance, but that included the snow that had drifted several feet into the mineshaft.

Alex’s hand shot for the tiny control panel. His fingers fumbled with a few buttons, and he prayed to Yoba that the horrific sound of metal screeching against metal meant he’d found the break. But he was too slow. The minecart skidded for a few short feet before impacting the snow dune.

The minecart jerked forward, ejecting the two men into air. Alex clung to The Farmer, determined to protect him from the impact. He landed painfully on his back and the world became a spinning vision of snow and darkness as they rolled across the landscape. He couldn’t even cry out when he felt the other man slip from his fingers.

When he finally came to a stop, Alex was on his back, staring up at a black canopy of tree branches, dancing in the howling wind. He immediately tried to stand up, but between the blizzard's wind and the ringing in his ears from the impact, Alex struggled a few moments to find steady footing. He dizzily looked around until his eyes fell on The Farmer’s body, about a foot away and face-down in the snow.

Alex scrambled over to The Farmer. Rolling him over, Alex couldn’t stop the choked sob from escaping him when he saw the snow under The Farmer’s body had already been speckled in red. His trembling hands fumbled about The Farmer’s neck, trying, and failing to feel a pulse. His shaking worsened, amplified by the cold, and soon a tingling numbness crept up Alex’s fingers, spreading across both of his hands and arms. He slapped his hands together, an act of desperation to regain feeling, it didn't work. He couldn’t control his own body as he curled over The Farmers body in a last-ditch effort to protect him from the elements. Alex instinctively took fistfuls of his own hair and held them so painfully tight that he was convinced he was ripping his own scalp out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he cried in a hoarse voice. His tears spilled over, freezing as they dripped onto The Farmer’s chest. He could summon no other words. All his pain, anxiety, and anguish felt as if they’d become literal monsters that tore him apart from the inside out. As the panic attack took full control of his mind, the ‘I’m sorry’ warped into ‘I can’t.’ 

“I always told you that you wouldn’t amount to anything.” 

Alex didn’t even flinch as his father’s voice manifested in his ear. Alex could feel the weight of his father’s hand on his back. The fermented smell of alcohol filled his nostrils. “You’ve never done anything, so you don’t deserve anything. You're a worthless kid who’s lived a worthless life. And you had the balls to think that you could be happy with him?” 

Alex’s father laughed once, a bitter and vile sound, before he retching and spitting into the snow. “It’s your fault that he’s going to die. Hell, he’s lucky to die now! Else he’d spend the rest of his life looking after a good-for-nothing like you.” 

“No…” Alex could barely manage that one word, curling tighter and tighter until his face was pressed into The Farmer’s body. He squeezed his eyes shut, still unable to stop the flow of tears. Horrible memories resurfaced, memories from a childhood before Evelyn and George had gifted him Dusty. He’d returned to hiding in the closet after school, desperately attempting to pull the dirty laundry over himself to protect himself from his father’s alcohol-induced anger. This was a personal hell of his own making, and he knew deserved every moment of torture. 

“Alex.” 

There was an ear-splitting snap, like a tree suddenly splitting in two. Alex’s body instinctively shot up, but when he opened his eyes he found was no longer in the forest. He was kneeling on the shore of a white-sand beach. The Farmer was no longer in front of him. He was alone. The crystal sea sparkled before him, a beautiful teal blue stretching out endlessly and uninterrupted. 

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around Alex’s waist and a body pressed itself against his back. He couldn’t move, even his eyes were firmly locked on the sea ahead. A warmth spread itself through his body like waves, taming the monsters that tore apart his insides.

Then, Alex heard a voice in his ear again. “Don’t let your insecurities get the better of you. Remember what Maru said. You need to stay calm. He’s counting on you.”

Alex looked down. The beach had disappeared, instantly replaced by the snow-covered forest. The blizzard continued to howl in his ear, and just ahead a strange red glow caught his eye. It bounced through the darkness, growing larger as it approached. Shortly after spotting it, the light reached him. Dusty burst into the clearing, with a small, glowing creature clinging to the dog's collar.

“&@%$!%!)!!!” The blocky creature leapt from Dusty’s back, landing on The Farmer’s chest. The red light that emitted from it intensified, and Alex was forced to shield his eyes.

The sound of coughing reached Alex’s ears before he could see again. When his vision returned, the creature was gone. He had barely a moment to think that he’d just hallucinated it all when he felt a hand slip into his own. He looked down, finding The Farmer’s eyes barely open against the storm. The Farmer’s hand tightened in his own before his eyes closed once more.

Alex scooped The Farmer into his arms and ran, Dusty hot on his heels. The wind gnashed at his face and turned his gloveless fingers numb again, but all he could focus on was putting one foot in front of the other. Within seconds he spotted the lights of Pelican Town just beyond the tree line and then skidded into the clearing just behind Clint's.

He barely registered the small group of figures nearby. Alex ran past them, their shouts drowned by the screaming of the wind. Desperation injected the adrenaline directly into his muscles. The Farmer felt warm in his arms again, and Alex swore to himself with every heart-pounding footstep that he was going to make good on their childhood promise. 

Another burst of pain shot through Alex’s head, but he ignored it. He shot past the snow-entrenched ice cream stand and was already rounding the corner of Lewis’ house. The lit windows of Harvey’s clinic at the top of the town square shone like a beacon of sanctuary. Just a few more steps and this horrific night would finally be over.

When the front door was finally in front of him, Alex threw his full weight against it. The door swung open and a loud ‘bang’ filled the air when it slammed against the wall. He stumbled into the lobby, almost losing his balance. The white light of the clinic’s lobby revealed Harvey, Caroline, and Pierre, all staring in shock. 

Time stood still. Alex’s heavy breathing was the only sound that filled the room. Finally inside, Alex felt the frozen tears and snot begin to melt and drip down his face in a half-frozen slush. He tried to say something, convey what he needed to them, but his lungs burned with a pain that made him feel like he’d inhaled hundreds of razor blades. He could only summon a single, hoarse word to his lips. 

“Please...” 

A horrified gasp escaped Caroline before she could cover her mouth. Pierre stood frozen next to his wife, both still dressed in their night clothes Alex had seen them in earlier. Harvey, already dressed in a white medical coat and wearing gloves, moved immediately to Alex. 

“Are you hurt?” Harvey asked, pulling a stethoscope from one of the pockets and placing the end onto The Farmer’s chest. 

Alex, still unable to form words, shook his head. He looked down to The Farmer, able to see him clearly for the first time since leaving the mines, and his stomach did a somersault that made him want to vomit. He could barely make out the bandages that Maru had put on. The Farmer’s stomach had been dyed completely red, and not a single hint of the sterile white remained. The blood had even seeped into Alex’s clothes, leaving a trail of bloody tears down his legs. 

“Bring him this way.” Harvey’s voice was commanding and stern as he turned around and pushed into the back of the clinic. His tone did not raise Alex’s spirits. Harvey then called over his shoulder at Pierre, “Call Lewis and tell him I need Maru as soon as possible!” 

Alex followed Harvey as the doctor led him into a small room off to the right of the main hallway. 

“Put him there,” Harvey pointed at the nearest bed as he himself began to dive into various drawers and cabinets around the room. 

Alex did, placing The Farmer down as gently as possible, treating him as if he were one of his grandmother’s porcelain knickknacks.  Harvey was at the other side of the bed immediately, muttering to himself as he cut the bloodied bandages off and started to apply new ones. Alex stood silently at the bedside, morbidly unable to tear his eyes away from the process. He wanted to do something, but his hands remained useless at his side. He felt as if he should something to help, but now he didn’t know what. His hands twitched at his sides, opening and closing themselves into fists just as an excuse to do something. 

The sound of snapping fingers suddenly drew Alex’s attention away from his thoughts. Harvey was staring at him, fingers still snapping. When Alex met Harvey’s eyes, the doctor stopped and said, “I know you’re not his relative, but do you know his blood type?” 

Alex stared at Harvey, needing several seconds to process the question. He wasn’t sure if he could summon his voice yet. He quickly shook his head no. 

Harvey swore under his breath. “Okay, check his pockets. Look for his wallet or phone. He might have a medical id card. If not, we can try an emergency contact on his phone.” 

With a little hesitation, Alex nodded and stepped forward. It felt awkward to go through The Farmer’s pockets, but this was something that he needed to do to help. The front pockets turned out empty, but after sliding his hand underneath and into the back pocket, Alex produced The Farmer’s phone. Just holding it felt like a miracle. After everything the man had been subjugated to, it felt like a Yoba-send that it was still on him. There was a large crack running down the middle of the screen and Alex couldn’t recall if it were new or if the phone had always been like this. 

“Good,” Harvey didn’t look up from his task. “Now, see if you can get a hold of someone in his family. And will all due respect, please leave the room.” 

“What?” Alex felt like he’d just been sucker punched, but that punch triggered his voice again. “I’m staying here.” 

“No, you’re not.” Harvey looked up only for only a second, but it was long enough to strike fear into Alex. The normally gentle and somewhat melancholy man had slipped on the face of an ogre. His eyes burned with professional conviction. Right now, Harvey was a man who simply stated how things worked and no one could refute. “Alex you’re too attached. I need to have a level head while I’m working. I can’t have your reactions to what I do distract me if something goes wrong. Just go to the lobby and tell me when you get a hold of somebody.” 

“But I-”

“Go.” Harvey’s tone resonated through the room like a hammer against stone. He looked back down at The Farmer and resumed his work, fully expecting his order to be carried out. 

Alex stood rooted to the spot, not tearing his eyes away from The Farmer. “He’s going to be okay, right?” 

Harvey didn’t respond. The doctor continued to quickly dress The Farmer’s wound. The bandage didn’t turn crimson as fast this time, but a few spots were already seeping through. “I’ll do what I can. He’ll stand a better chance the sooner we figure out his blood type.” Then suddenly, he looked up and yelled at the door. “Caroline!” 

After a moment, Caroline appeared in the doorway. She stood halfway into the room, holding a hand to her chest, and looking rather nervous. “Yes?” 

“I know you have a fear of needles,” Harvey said, “but you’re the only person in town with O negative blood. Would you be willing to donate?” 

Caroline’s jaw clenched when Alex looked at her. She met his eyes only for a moment before they fell on The Farmer. “Of course.” 

“Thank you, now sit there.” Harvey directed her to a chair next to The Farmer’s bedside. He’d finished changing the bandages and was quickly moving to the other side of the room. He returned with a foreign medical device on wheels. When his eyes fell on Alex, who still hadn’t moved, he frowned. “Alex, I won’t repeat myself. You need to leave.” 

Caroline approached Alex, gently laying a hand on his shoulder, and giving him a small smile. “We’re watching him now.” 

Alex said nothing, casting one final look at The Farmer before Harvey got fed up. The doctor grabbed Alex by the shoulders and spun him around, pushing him towards the door. Every step he was forced to take felt like a stab in his chest. His muscles had all turned to gelatin and just walking to the door felt excruciating. While a not so gentle shove, Alex was promptly banished to the hallway. 

His body felt numb as he stood there, and his brain tried to fight off the dark thoughts spinning in his head. Whatever energy he had gotten from that hallucination in the forest had already worn off.  The utter helplessness he felt now triggered a memory. A time in which his dad had forgotten to pick him up from school, instead too focused on breaking a losing streak at the local casino. A young Alex was forced to walk the several miles home, wondering if he’d done something wrong to deserve this. He’d expected to be met with his mother’s relieved kisses and a bowl of warm soup. Instead after fumbling with the spare key, the door swung open to his mother’s crumbled body lying motionless in the hallway. After that, all he remembered was crying into the phone’s receiver to emergency dispatch and being swept up into his grandmother's arms at the hospital. 

A soft and warm snout brushed against Alex’s hand, pulling him out of his memories. He looked down, surprised to find Dusty had followed him inside. The dog gave a soft whimper as his human gave his head a gentle pat. Alex stared at the dog, briefly wondering how the animal had managed to get down the mountain so quickly. He couldn't ponder the thought though, as the movement in the room behind him reminded him that he had a job to do. The phone felt heavy in his hand, but it gave him enough strength to at least return to the lobby.

He said nothing to Pierre as he took a seat in one of the lobby chairs, Dusty settled at Alex’s feet. The older man was looking nervously between his own phone and the window. Alex tapped the screen of The Farmer’s phone and slid up. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks to Yoba that The Farmer was one of the few people on this planet who didn’t lock his phone with a passcode. He opened the contacts page, and at the very top in red letters read ‘Emergency Contact.’ When he tapped that, the phone automatically scrolled down, highlighting a single name. He didn’t give the name a second thought. Alex tapped the call button and lifted the phone to his ear as it began to ring.

The Farmer stood on the beach, letting the cool water lap around his ankles as the gentle sound of cresting waves filled his ears. The summer sun shone brightly in the sky overhead, basking him in a comforting warmth. The occasional seagull called out overhead, and he had to resist the urge to fall back into the water and disturb this tranquil moment. He felt extraordinary light, like the weight of his body didn’t exist anymore. The Farmer closed his eyes, taking in everything about the ocean as deeply as he could. He imagined how good it would feel to simply float on his back, the water rocking his body peacefully back and forth. Maybe taking a quick moment to dive into deeper water would be nice.

He took a step forward. 

“It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?” 

The Farmer opened his eyes. Standing several feet in front of him was a woman with her back to him. She held her hands behind herself and a gentle wind played with her white sundress, making it billow around her with an ethereal beauty. Her long, chestnut brown hair was pulled to one side in a loose ponytail over her shoulder. 

“Who are you?” The words found The Farmer’s lips the moment the thought filled his mind. 

“I love this beach.” The woman said, ignoring his question. Her voice was so soft and tender that it was easy for him to imagine she’d never raised it in anger. From those four words, he got the feeling that she was a soft spoken and gentle person, right down to her very core. She then chuckled, and even that was gentle sounding. “We were a couple of beach rats, here from sunrise to sunset. We’d build sandcastles, play tag, and see who could eat their ice cream the fastest before we got brain freeze. Thinking back on those days, I can’t help but wonder why I ever left in the first place.” 

A squeal of delight from behind him drew The Farmer’s attention. A few yards from the shore of the beach, there was a toddler with sandy brown hair waddling across the sand. He held a plastic shovel in one hand and a bucket in the other, currently in pursuit of a stray seagull. The bird hopped quickly down the surf, clearly unafraid of the tiny human. 

After a few moments of chasing the bird, the toddler tripped and cried out. The seagull flew off. When the boy sat up, he started to cry. Another woman materialized at the toddler’s side, appearing out of thin air, and scooped him up. She held him tightly, shushing and comforting him with tiny strokes across the back of his head as he cried. After a few moments, the woman and child faded to white and disappeared like they had been nothing more than clouds. 

The woman back in the water chuckled again, drawing The Farmer’s attention back. But she was no longer several feet out, now she stood directly to his right. Her soundless appearance would have normally started him, but instead he was too focused on her laugh. It was a laugh full of fondness, kindness, and warmth. “He’s always been a delicate one. Though most people wouldn’t be able to tell at first glance these days. He’s grown a bit of an arrogant outer shell, hasn’t he?” 

The woman turned and fully faced The Farmer. She was beautiful, but not in the way that he would describe Haley as attractive or Abby as cute. It was something in the way she carried herself, in the way that she smiled at him. The way that her wrinkled skin creased around her eyes, the very shape of her face. Every part of her radiated pure, unconditional love. It was then that The Farmer found himself crying because something deep down inside himself told him that he would never get the chance to get to know this woman. 

The woman reached out, with both of her hands, cupping his face and drying his tears with her thumbs. “It’s alright,” she said in a quiet voice, still smiling at him. “That’s just how life is. That’s why you can’t hold yourself back anymore.” 

She pulled him into a tender embrace, wrapping her arms around his back. The Farmer felt his tears renew as he wrapped his own arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. A flurry of images suddenly filled his mind. He saw a small home in Pelican Town, celebrating an acceptance into the high school gridball team with a buffet of breakfast food spread out before them. He saw a son able to freely open up to his mother when life started to become too much. He saw the awkward and nervous questions asked about life and love. The embarrassing topics all slowly, but diligently, worked through until a satisfactory answer was reached. There were slammed doors and heated arguments, tempers flared, and apologies issued after hours or even days of silent meals shared. He was seeing a family that no longer had a chance to exist. 

The woman pulled away but held The Farmer at arm’s length still, hands on his shoulders. Tears rolled down her smiling face and her bottom lip quivered. The Farmer opened his mouth, but she raised a finger to his lips, shushing him. “I know I would have loved getting to know you. But it’s not your time yet. You two still have so much to share.”

She released him, smiling, and tilting her head to one side. All around her, the air began to shimmer with twinkling lights. They multiplied with such an intensity that the light started blotting out The Farmer’s vision in a matter of seconds.

“I know you’ll take good care of him.” 

Then she was gone. Beach, ocean, everything. All swallowed by the white light and jarringly replaced with a deafening darkness. The weight of The Farmer’s body came back to him, along with every agonizing ache and stabbing pain that came with it. 

He tried to open his eyes, but it was slow and strenuous action. His eyelids felt like they’d been glued and stapled shut. Just trying to open them was so displeasing that he wondered how he’d ever managed to spend all day with them open in the first place. Sleep tugged at the corners of his consciousness like sirens, promising the serenity of unconsciousness. There was a steady beeping that filled the room. It was somewhat annoying, but ignorable for the most part. He felt warm and comfortable, like he was supposed to be resting instead of fighting off those monsters in the mines.

The mines. 

A sudden, short burst of adrenaline jumpstarted his body, giving The Farmer just enough strength to open his eyes. He last remembered being in the mines. He needed to find Abby. They needed to get out of here.  His vision was blurry, and the more he blinked the blurrier it got. The beeping in the room suddenly sped up, annoyingly matching his racing heartbeat. Was this some kind of sound-based monster that was trying to psych him out? 

The Farmer breathed heavily for several seconds, but nothing attacked him. He focused on trying to keep his eyes open as long as possible until the fuzzy shapes around him came into focus. As he grew accustomed to the darkness, he had the disorienting realization that he was no longer in the mines, but some unfamiliar room. He couldn’t tell what most of the shapes around him were, but some of them gave off dull, artificial and blurry glows.  

He was laying in a bed, and as more of his awareness came back, he realized he was in a hospital gown instead of his caving outfit. He wearily scanned the room, and as he did The Farmer slowly became aware of just how much pain he was in. His entire body felt like he’d been caught outside in a hailstorm. But the worst pain was his stomach. That felt like he’d been tied to a goalpost and had a target painted to his stomach as professional gridball players used it for practice. 

He tried to sit up, but he failed as the sharp stabbing pain intensified in his abdomen. He fell back onto the bed with a groan. It felt like someone just razzed his stomach with an old and rusted cheese grater, complete with tetanus. He decided that maybe he should just focus on breathing and keeping his eyes open. 

As he sat there, another realization dawned on him. He didn’t have just a blanket covering him, there was a jacket draped over him. Confusion filled his mind, wondering who it belonged to. He tried to reach up to grab it, but found that someone was holding his left hand. The Farmer craned his head down as much as he could. He could make out the shape of a person in the darkness. They were asleep, head resting at the foot of his bed and their hand holding his own. 

He tugged at it, and heard a soft, gentle groan from the figure. The Farmer focused on the shape, he could see the gentle rise and fall of their back as they breathed. The Farmer adjusted his grip, slowly brushing his fingertips over the hand that held his own. He squeezed it tightly, sensing familiarity in the action of holding it. The figure stirred, and in the dim light, The Farmer met another pair of eyes. The gaze was held for only an instant before they jumped up and rushed to the light switch. The searing light blinded him, and before The Farmer’s vision returned, he was greeted with tears and an overbearing hug. 

“You have no idea how relieved I am,” said his mother.

Alex sat on the floor of his grandparents' living room, his back against the couch, resisting the urge to check his phone yet again. Dusty was asleep, the dogs head in his lap, and Alex gently ran his hand down the dogs back. Petting him was the only thing that was keeping Alex sane right now. Especially since and the ticking of the old clock on his grandma’s bookshelf was making him acutely aware of how slow a single second actually was. Surely, this had to be what it was like to be tortured in hell. Only the glow of a lamp on the other side of the room offered any light, but Alex still felt the cold chill of the blizzard seeping into the house. Down the hallway in the closet before the bathroom, the sound of the washing machine was Alex’s only companion. 

After he’d come home and everything had been explained, Evelyn decided she was going to remove the blood from his clothing with an old trick she knew. Alex wanted to throw them out, but he knew his grandma was just like him. She needed to do something to feel useful in a time like this, so he let her take them; even though he knew that now whenever he looked at them—let alone wore them—all he would be able to think about would be how close The Farmer had come to dying in his arms tonight. 

Haley’s sudden and over the top snore distracted Alex from his train of thought. She and her sister were fast asleep on the couch behind him. It turned out that Haley and Emily’s blood type matched The Farmer’s, so almost immediately after Lewis’ truck had skidded into the town square with Maru, Abby, and Sebastian inside, the mayor had been sent to pull the sisters out of bed and donate blood.

Afterwards, when they'd been kicked out of the clinic, Alex asked that Haley stay with him. Emily, being the supportive and upbeat individual that she was, decided to tag along. Once the trio had arrived at his place—and calmed down Evelyn and George, shocked after seeing their grandson covered in blood—Emily had been so talkative that his grandma and grandpa were too distracted dealing with her to overload Alex with any questions. He wasn’t sure if it were intentional or just who she was, but either way, he’d been grateful that she’d decided to come with them. 

The pink fuzz of Haley’s robe tickled at the back of his neck, and another one of her snores filled the air. Alex was able to ignore the snoring. Haley’s was much tamer compared to his grandfather’s, which often sounded like a freight train. The sound was strangely comforting, but it also brought a small dose of amusement when he heard George’s snores from down the hall synchronize with and Haley’s. He needed that little amusement, after a night like tonight. Besides, even if the snoring did bother him, he wouldn’t risk waking Haley up. He’d learned his lesson years ago when she’d fallen asleep on the bus ride back home from high school. Haley was the type of person who’s ready to throw down the second she gets woken up, and she’d almost broken his jaw when he’d shook her awake that afternoon. 

Despite the trip down memory lane and everything Haley and Emily did that night before they fell asleep, Alex’s thoughts kept drifting back to the moment he’d called The Farmer’s mother. Replaying the memory in his head, he wasn’t even sure he’d properly introduced himself. In fact, he’d been so unprepared for the conversation that instead of asking for her son’s blood type he just said he needed her blood. She hung up immediately after that, forcing Alex to call back twice. When he’d finally managed to explain the situation, she didn’t believe him. She thought that he was a scam artist and told him to do better if he wanted her credit card info.

It wasn’t until Maru came out asking for a status update did they get anywhere. Maru had to give her full name and the clinic’s address before The Farmer’s mother was convinced that this wasn’t some elaborate two-bit scam and conceded the information. Maru disappeared into the depths of the clinic after that to pull patient files of the Pelican Town residents, and Alex was left standing alone in the waiting room with a sense of uselessness.

The moment Haley and Emily walked through the doors Haley launched herself at Alex. She had barely enough time to squeeze him and say that everything was going to be okay before Maru appeared and snatched her and her sister up like a hawk snatching a fish out of a river. 

Alex felt like he should have cried, waiting there in the lobby, but he merely felt numb; his energy too far spent to feel anything else. He sank into a chair, his adrenaline-soaked limbs finally giving out to exhaustion. Dusty was his only companion, and Alex was able to draw at least a small sort of comfort from petting the dog. Alex had been so tired that he barely even registered Haley and Emily's presence on either side of him. The only thing that managed to cut through the fog in his brain was when he heard Maru finally say, “You can see him now.” 

He’d stood, Haley holding his hand reassuringly on one side and Emily  on his other side with a hand on his back. The three followed Maru to the back, and Alex found himself stopped just a few steps into the room. The Farmer was asleep in the same bed Alex had left in him earlier. Several wires ran from under his hospital gown and up to a machine nearby to monitor his heartbeat. It looked both barely used and beaten up like a hand-me-down; it was clean but covered in obvious dents and scraps. Alex barely registered what Harvey was saying to the three of them. All he could focus on was The Farmer, sleeping in front of him. 

He’s okay. The thought was like a drop of water in a pond, sending ripples across his mind and growing larger and louder the further it went. Tears welled up in his eyes and he walked over to the bedside. He sunk into the chair there and took The Farmer’s hand in his own.

The gathering tears fell from his eyes, and the words left his mouth barely above a whisper. “You’re okay…”  

He wasn’t sure how much time passed of him simply holding The Farmer’s hand, but those quiet moments made the last few hours feel like nothing more than a bad dream.  

When someone finally did interrupt him, it was Maru. She let Alex wipe the tears from his eyes before telling him to go home for the night and rest. He wanted to stay, but Maru informed him that The Farmer’s parents would be here soon, and until then he could trust her and Harvey to look after him. After some gentle persuasion from Haley and Emily as well, Alex reluctantly got up. Before he left, he took off his jacket and laid it over The Farmer, wanting to leave at least a part of himself with the other man in the meantime. Thankfully, the jacket had been spared of any large bloodstains, so he hopped Harvey didn’t have any objections. 

That had been hours ago. Alex finally gave into his urge and checked his phone again, opening his messaging app and rereading his texts to Maru to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.

Alex: Can I ask a favor

Maru: Sure

Alex: Will you be staying in the same room as the farmer?

Maru: Yeah, mostly. Harvey and I will take turns watching him

Alex: Then can you text me when the farmer wakes up

Maru: Sure.

Just like that. Maru didn’t ask any questions, but Alex felt somewhere in the back of his mind that Maru had probably gotten all the pieces she’d needed tonight and put together the puzzle already. 

The clock in the living room read twelve minutes to five, and outside the storm was just barely letting up. The wind still rattled the windows, but gentler now. Haley snored deeply again, only this time it was deep enough to wake herself up. Her head shot up, and her eyes blinked open at different speeds, trying to orient herself with the room. She seemed to fixate on Alex’s head, and her hand reached out for him, gently patting down the back of his head.  

Alex tried to look back at her, but almost ended up getting her to poke his eyes out.  “What are you doing?” 

“Checking that you’re still alive,” Haley mumbled before she yawned. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out yet.” 

“I can’t sleep. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep.” 

“Hm.” Haley frowned, her bottom lip jutting out a bit. She’d given up trying to keep her eyes open and instead laid back down on the couch. She kept her arm extended though, resting it on Alex’s head and continuing to pat it in the most comforting a way that she could. “Alex, I know you’re a sweet person, but not sleeping won’t help him.” 

“I know,” Alex said, his voice quiet. “It just doesn’t feel right.” 

Haley didn’t say anything to that, leaving Alex with his thoughts again. Almost immediately, they flashed back to his dreams about the boy he’d played with when he first came to Pelican Town. There was a small twinge of pain, similar to his other headaches he'd been having tonight, but it was minimal this time. 

“Hey Haley, do you believe in fate?” 

Haley made a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a snort. “Alex, honey, normally I’d love to debate stuff like this late into the night, but it’s far too late into the night for this. It’s basically morning.” 

“I’m sorry, I know. I just, I’ve got some things in my head that I just can’t seem to shake.” 

Haley loudly sighed this time, settling a little more comfortably into the couch. “Well, from how that sounded I feel like I’m probably going to hear about it anyways.” 

“The price of being my best friend is listening to my rants at 5 a.m.” Alex gave a small smile, trying to lift his own mood.

“I suppose I can pay it.” Haley weakly gestured an arm into the air, giving a little flourish. “Rant away.” 

“It’s just…” Alex started, “I’ve been having these weird dreams. I mean, sometimes they’re nightmares. But most of the time I end up waking confused and feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. They feel like these weirdly vivid memories that I’m recalling, not dreams.” 

“Sound like something a video game says to make itself sound fake deep.” 

Alex huffed. “Yeah, it sounds stupid doesn’t it.” 

“Stupid or not, they’re clearly bothering you.”

“Well yeah, that’s because I can’t tell if they’re real. Sometimes it feels like my feelings for The Farmer are just making my brain come up with these dreams where I knew him when we were younger. Like, do you remember playing on that farm when we were younger?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I never went there until The Farmer moved in.” 

“Well, I’m pretty sure I did.” Alex rubbed his temple with one hand. It was strange that he could recall these dreams so clearly when he normally forgot most of his dreams only minutes after waking up. “And I think I was really good friends with the guy’s grandson.” 

“Wait,” Haley held up her hand, blinking sleepily. “I thought the last person to live on the farm was The Farmer’s grandpa. Are you saying you knew The Farmer before he moved here?” 

“Maybe?” Alex half frowned. “I’m pretty sure I’ve at least met his mother before. I had a dream where he and I were playing together and... he got hurt pretty bad. In my dream, she blamed me for his injury and said I’d be the reason he’d never visit again.” 

“How’d he get hurt?” 

“Kicked in the head by a cow,” Alex grimaced at the memory. The image from his dream flashed in his mind; The Farmer lying face down in the barn with blood pooling from his head. 

Haley pondered the information for a few moments. “Are you sure about that? I’m not one hundred percent sure, but I’m positive that an accident like that would be fatal. Especially if he was a kid at the time.” 

“He does have a scar on his forehead,” Alex said. “It’s pretty nasty looking.” 

“Well, I can’t really help you there. I’ve never seen him with his bangs up.” Haley yawned again. “Can I ask you something? Why does it matter?” 

Alex turned around and frowned at her, half angry and half confused. “What?” 

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” Haley waved her hand sleepily at him. “Look, all I’m saying is why does it matter if you met before? That doesn’t change how you feel about him right now, does it?” 

Alex turned his gaze back to the floor, chewing on his bottom lip. He let out a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know. It’s just hard to explain. Like…do you remember that very first day The Farmer moved in?”

“I think I remember hearing you had Dusty attack him.”

“It was an accident,” Alex retorted quickly. “At least, I told myself it was an accident. But whenever I think back to it, I feel like it wasn’t entirely an accident. Like, part of myself just kinda threw the frisbee towards him on purpose. Like, you know that dumb scene in romcoms when the love interest sees the main character for the first time and immediately does something stupid like walking into a lamppost because they’re too distracted? It felt exactly like that. Like, maybe I subconsciously threw it at him just so I could be a part of his life in some way.” 

There was a bit of shuffling on the couch, and Haley’s arms found his head again. She patted them against his head softly. “Alex, you are way too romantic for your own good. Maybe you’re right and you were fated to meet him again. Honestly, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, I think you’re just being dramatic. It almost sounds like you’re trying to rationalize having feelings for him. But then again, part of me thinks it’s cute how you think about him like that.”

Before he could respond, Alex’s phone buzzed on the end table. Far too quickly to be called anything but desperate, Alex launched himself up and immediately unlocked it. There was one new message. 

Maru: He’s awake.

“In all honesty, you should be thankful the injury wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” Harvey said over the top of his clipboard. This was the first time The Farmer had ever seen him looking like a traditional doctor. He had the stethoscope around his neck and was wearing his white coat. Although, The Farmer couldn’t help the little skips his heart made when his eyes fell over the various bloodstains dotting the coat. His blood.

“Wasn’t as bad?” The Farmer’s mother said incredulously, almost laughing out of shock. “That nurse on the phone scared me half to death! Saying stuff about how my boy needed blood donations to save his life. How can you say that’s not bad?” 

There was a small twitch in Harvey’s left eyebrow. “I say it because your son didn’t require any major surgery, which is something I wouldn’t have been able to perform here. If he had required that, I doubt an ambulance would have reached us in this blizzard and then you and I would have been having a very different conversation. If anything, the blizzard saved his life by lowering his body temperature and slowing his heartbeat which slowed the bleeding. The wound across his gut was long, but it was shallow and by some magic or miracle, it didn’t pierce his stomach or an major artery. From what I understand the situation to be, the only reason he passed out was due to shock from excessive blood loss. Once Maru had gotten to him to perform first aid, she had seen him through the worst until I was able to stitch him up here.”

The Farmer saw his mother open her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the abrupt slam of the door being thrown open. Standing there in the doorframe, taking his breath away like usual, was Alex. 

Alex’s breathing was the only sound in the room. Water from melting snow dripped down his hair and face, and he hadn’t even bothered to put on proper winter clothes. He was dressed in a pair of simple gray sweats and a white tank top. His emerald green eyes met The Farmer’s, and The Farmer’s grip tightened on the jacket in his lap. The jacket had been the one thing to ground him after waking up, a physical reminder that everything he’d experienced hadn’t just been a terrible dream and that Alex had been there with him through it all.

Tears wanted to spring from The Farmer’s eyes, and he was overcome with the urge to jump out of bed and throw his arms around Alex. He wanted nothing more than to forget everything that was happening, his mother, Harvey explaining just how close he’d come to death—none of that helped The Farmer. He’d woken up less than fifteen minutes ago and his world was still struggling to orient itself. All he wanted was to be wrapped up in Alex’s arms and basking in the warmth of his body, losing himself in the embrace. 

“Excuse me, but who the hell do you think you are, barging in like that?” The Farmer’s mother demanded, voice nearly a shrill. “This is a private room.”

Alex stiffened in the doorway, but he waited several seconds before he looked away from The Farmer. When he did, his hands dropped awkwardly to his sides and his posture reminded The Farmer of the way Alex acted back during the Flower Dance. Timid and unsure of what he should be doing, but already believing that he’d done something wrong. “Ah, I’m sorry. I just…” 

“Please excuse my friend,” Haley gasped, just as out of breath as Alex. She materialized in the doorway behind Alex. Her hand was on his shoulder to steady herself as she caught her breath. 

“We’re friends of your son!” Emily appeared next, her head popping into existence above the other two like she was in a cartoon. And unlike the other two, Emily didn’t look like she’d run through a blizzard just before dawn. If anything, her goofy smile said she’d just set off on a leisurely walk on a spring morning. “We heard that he was awake and wanted to check in on him.” 

The Farmer’s mother narrowed her eyes at the trio, one eyebrow arching up. “Yes, he is awake. Now why exactly are you all here? Couldn’t this have waited until morning?” 

Alex opened his mouth, but Haley quickly looped her arm through his and pulled him several steps into the room with the fakest customer service smile The Farmer had ever seen. And that was counting every encounter he’d ever had with Morris. “Like my sister said, we heard that The Farmer had woken up. Alex here just had to see with his own eyes. By the way, did Harvey tell you that Alex was the one who carried your son to the clinic?” 

Something was clearly going on with the trio, but The Farmer knew his own mother. Haley was about to step into a minefield with only her personality as a minesweeper. He spoke up, “Mom, it’s okay-”

“No, it most certainly is not!” His mother interrupted. “You’re recovering from a traumatic injury. We can’t just have everyone pop in willy-nilly. You’ll never get any rest! Which reminds me,” She suddenly turned on her son, hands on her hips and glare already primed. “What were you even doing in a monster-infested zone in the first place? You’re not a soldier and you don’t even have the proper training to exterminate them! You told me you came out here to be a farmer. Unless you’ve given that up on a whim just like your last job.” 

The atmosphere in the room shifted jarringly. Her words hadn’t just opened a window, they bulldozed straight through the wall and allowed the blizzard to storm throughout the clinic.  

“That’s not fair.” Alex countered instantly. All eyes fell on him. He wore a glare with an intensity that almost matched the one worn by The Farmer’s mother. Haley looked like a deer caught in headlights at his side. The Farmer could practically see her inner voice screaming at him to shut up. Alex, however, was only looking at The Farmer’s mother. “You have no idea what he’s had to endure or what he’s managed to accomplish since he moved here.”

“Exactly my point!” The Farmer’s mother took a step towards Alex to assert her dominance. “I know nothing about what he’s doing out here or who any of you are because my own son doesn’t talk to me about his life! Instead, I just happened upon some article written in my magazine about his farm last month and then a phone call last night saying he’s dying. And then when I get here, and it turns out he’s running around with you of all people.” 

Alex’s expression flinched when she jabbed an accusatory finger at him.

“Stop!” Harvey yelled, slapping his hand against his clipboard, silencing the room with the sound. “This is a place of rest and recovery; I will not stand to have this shouting match continue when he should be resting.” Harvey flicked his pen in The Farmer’s direction. “All topics, family grievances, or anything that can cause stress is off limits. I will not have his stitches come undone, so you three need to leave.” Harvey turned his pen on Alex, Haley, and Emily. “If you’re not an immediate family member, you are banned from this room. He needs rest.” 

Alex and The Farmer’s mother continued to glare at one another until Haley began pulling Alex out of the room while issuing an apology to Harvey. Alex only broke eye contact when they’d reach the door. He looked to The Farmer, and his expression softened in the moment before he disappeared. Emily gave a small little wave before The Farmer’s mother slammed the door shut in her face.

If he could have, The Farmer was ready to take on both his mother and Harvey. Alex was the only one he wanted in this room. But no matter how good spending some time asleep near Alex sounded, he doubted he’d be able to muster the strength to even lift his legs.

When they had gone, Harvey sighed and turned back to The Farmer’s mother. After getting her to agree to drop any issues she had with her son’s lack of communication, he continued to report on the Farmer’s condition. There were important parts The Farmer should have probably been listening to, such as when bandages would need to be changed, what sort of antibiotics he was going to be on, but all his energy felt as if it’d left with Alex. He let his mother answer when needed and leaned back into the bed, letting himself be swallowed up by the bedding as he began the eventual act of staring at the tiled ceiling.  

When Harvey finally finished, there was a knock at the door. It opened without waiting for an answer, and a man appeared in the doorway. He was taller than Harvey by a few inches, with a bushy black beard and lanky arms, his face perked up when he saw The Farmer awake. “Hey sport!” The man said, “I heard you got yourself into a pretty rocky situation.” 

The Farmer’s mother groaned loudly, and The Farmer let out a small snort. 

“Hey dad,” He said. “How are you?” 

The Farmer’s father stroked his beard as he walked to the bedside. “I won’t lie, we could be better. Hearing that our only son had been hospitalized doesn’t exactly do wonders for the heart. Especially when we haven’t heard from him since he moved out here.” 

A stab of guilt hit The Farmer, making him wince.

“Again, he’s fine,” Harvey said. “His injury looked much worse than it actually was. But, like I told your wife earlier, you can wait to air out any family drama only when his wound has closed. I doubt there will be any issue with his recovery as long as he gets proper rest and doesn’t strain himself.” 

“You might want to stay away from that Alex then, darling.” The Farmer’s mother offered with a small huff. “He still seems like far too much of a handful.” 

“Alex has been nothing but kind to me.” The Farmer snapped. When his mother turned her disapproving look on him, he felt as though he’d astral projected and was now looking in on the room from above. His words had come out far harsher than he’d planned, but then again, things never quiet go as planned whenever Alex was involved. 

“Do not raise your voice at me, young man.” The Farmer’s mother said very slowly. The volume of her voice grew with every word. “I am your mother, and I am simply doing what’s best.” 

“No, you’re making snap judgements like you always do!” The Farmer countered, his own voice rising. “You never wait to hear the other side of the story and you don’t even know Alex. How can you say you think it’s best for me to stay away from him? He’s the one that helped me run my farm when I almost broke my leg this summer.” 

“You almost what!?” 

“Enough!” Harvey stepped between the mother and son; hands thrown out to make himself as big as possible. “You may be family, but if you cannot have a reasonable, calm discussion I will have no choice but to throw you out for the good of my patient. I will not have his blood pressure skyrocketing and reopening his wound.” 

The Farmer had been so focused on defending Alex that it wasn’t until Harvey’s words had been spoken that he realized the machine next to him was beeping rapidly. He could feel his pulse pounding through the vein on his neck and a slight pain was growing in his abdomen. The Farmer exhaled deeply and then fell back onto the bed to stew in his own anger. His mother glared at Harvey for a few moments longer before turning around to stomp over to a chair on the opposite side of the room. She dropped into it and decided that the fake plant in the corner would be the next victim of her venomous glare. 

Once both mother and son had taken their positions and no longer appeared ready to tear out the other’s throat, Harvey inhaled deeply and then began to jot down notes onto whatever papers he had on his clipboard.  

The Farmer’s father chuckled awkwardly, trying to diffuse the tension. He leaned down so only his son could hear him, “Well if you inherited anything from your mother, it was definitely her passion.”

Thank Yoba it wasn’t her piss-attitude. The Farmer almost said the thought aloud but caught himself at the last second. He knew the comment would have been heard by his mother, and then not even Harvey would be able to stop her from putting The Farmer into the ground next to his grandfather. 

The Farmer’s father crossed the room and took the seat next to his wife. He gingerly took one of her hands into his own and continued talking to The Farmer. “Look, clearly this Alex has been a wonderful friend to you and it’s clear he’s been looking after our son. Why don’t we invite him and his parents out for dinner while we’re here and get to know them?” 

“Alex lives with his grandparents,” The Farmer snapped again. He still felt bitter, but he wasn’t sure why he felt the need to take it out on his dad now. “His mother died when he was young, and his father ran off when she did.”

“Oh...then we’ll meet his grandparents. It seems like they raised an exceptionally fine young man.” 

The scratching of Harvey’s pen was the only sound that filled the room until The Farmer’s mother sighed. “Fine. I suppose we should.” She righted her posture slightly and played with her hair. An attempt to curb her ‘passion’ and appear more reasonable. When she was done preening, she then suggested, “Why not invite that Haley girl as well? She seems like a very polite young woman. Very good looking too.”

“Haley is just a friend, mom.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to be bashful with me,” She said, flipping her hair along with her attitude. “She’s quite a looker, isn’t she?” 

“I’m gay.” 

For the second time tonight, The Farmer felt like he was viewing the room from outside of his own body. Silence filled the air, and not even the machine monitoring his heartbeat made a chirp. Harvey had frozen in the middle of whatever he’d been writing, his pen hovering mid-stroke. His expression was unreadable, but there was a small hint of panic in his eyes as they swiveled towards The Farmer’s parents. 

The Farmer’s mother broke the silence first. “What?” 

“I’m gay,” The Farmer repeated. He stared up at the ceiling, unable to bear looking at his parents and see whatever expression they wore. He inhaled as deeply and calmly as he could, and then exhaled, expelling all the panicked thoughts he could feel building inside him as he did. “Haley is just a friend.” 

“What—how can you, but, but-” The Farmer mother sputtered, words fumbling over her own tongue as she desperately attempted to turn them into a coherent train of thought. “You just can’t suddenly be gay! What about all those girls you dated in high school?” 

“Honey,” The Farmer’s father said in a warning voice. “Why don’t we just-”

“I never liked any of them.” The Farmer interrupted. “They all confessed to me and I just said yes. I just wanted to fit in.”

“Well now you’re just trying to be trendy!” His mother exclaimed, voice cracking at the end. “Being gay is just some popular thing they’re putting all over TV now. You’re just confused—"

“OUT.” Harvey’s voice was accented by the snapping of his clipboard he had slammed against the footboard of The Farmer’s bed. The broken half clattered to the floor as The Farmer and his parents all turned their eyes on the doctor. Behind Harvey’s eyes burned a raging wildfire. “You have already been given two chances, and this is the third strike. You will not be having this conversation tonight.” 

The Farmer’s mother went red in the face. She shot up, throwing off her husband's hand. “I think you should leave, Doctor. This is a private conversation between me and my son.” 

“No, you are going to leave.” Harvey marched up to her until their noses were practically touching. He glared down at her over the top of his glasses. “Your son is my patient. I have already warned you about putting him through any more stress. I will not hesitate to have you removed from this clinic by force.”

The Farmer’s father stood up quickly, placing his hands on his wife’s shoulders. “Darling, why don’t you go wait in the car. I’ll wrap things up with the good doctor here.” 

She brushed his hands off without breaking her glaring contest with Harvey. Then, directing her gaze to The Farmer, said, “We will talk about this in the morning.” 

The Farmer didn’t return her look, continuing to stare at the ceiling until he heard the footfalls of his mother and the door to the room slam shut. He breathed deeply again, only then taking the chance to look over at his other parent. His father rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking between Harvey and his son.

The Farmer’s father half-frowned at the doctor. “I’m sorry. She’s ah...just-”

“Passionate?” Harvey asked with an annoyed look.

“I was going to say adjusting.” He took a small step towards his son’s bed, trying to convey to Harvey that he was going to play nice. When Harvey allowed him to reach The Farmer’s bedside, his father put a hand on The Farmer’s shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze. “She’ll come around. I’ll make sure she does. You know how much she loves you. She just thinks she’s protecting you.” 

The Farmer gave his father a once over with a distrusting look. He was still wrestling with the fact that he had chosen now of all moments to come out to his parents. Half of his brain was relieved to have finally said it, but the other half was currently on fire and slamming itself against his skull. In the back of his mind, he’d always had a scenario that played out like this where they rejected him. Granted, it didn’t involve him being in a hospital, and never had he expected his dad to be there, ready to support him on day one. 

What happens now? Was his mom going to disown him while his dad secretly sent money and support to The Farmer? It’s not like his mom could kick him out or anything. The farm was in his name now. At worst she’d just disappear tomorrow, and he’d never talk to her again. 

But as he looked up at his father, The Farmer’s first question burned to be answered. The words were already jumping to leave his mouth. “Why are you not more surprised?” 

The Farmer’s father gave a small chuckle, a sheepish grin touching at his lips. “Do you remember when you borrowed my laptop to write an essay for high school? It was for your first assignment for 9th grade I believe.” 

The moment he heard those words, The Farmer instantly recalled everything he had done when first given full, unfiltered, and unsupervised access to the internet. His face and ears burned red and he did not want to hear his father voice what was coming next. “Dad-”

“I mean, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your mother that was in Yoogle Images searching for ‘Male Underwear Models,’ ‘Firefighter Calendar,’ and all those searches for ‘Am I Gay?’ quizzes, so I started to get the inklings that my son wasn’t going to be bringing home a permanent girlfriend any time.” 

“Oh my Yoba Dad, please stop talking.” The Farmer covered his face with his hands, dreading and cursing the fact that he didn’t know about clearing your browsing history back then. 

His dad chuckled again, deep and hearty. “I’m sorry. But I figured if you were simply curious, so I didn’t say anything. If you did ever want to tell us anything, I wanted to give you the time you needed to do so. At least, that’s what some nice people on the internet said I should try and do when I posted my own questions.” He reached up and ruffed his son’s hair. “Love you sport. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

The Farmer peeked through his fingers just in time to see his dad say something to Harvey as he stepped out the door. 

When he’d gone, Harvey released a heavy sigh before turning an angry expression at The Farmer. “You know, I really wish you’d pick your battles with a little more finesse. You’ve barely even been here for a year and I’ve probably already patched you up more times than some of the lifetime residents of Pelican Town.” 

“I’ll try not to make a habit of it,” The Farmer said. He dropped his hands from his face, feeling deflated from the emotional train wreck he’d suffered through since having woken up. “But I guess I could have picked a better time to come out.” 

Harvey gave a small cough and adjusted his glasses. “Just...promise that you’ll think about your health a little more often. I’m not saying you should have kept hiding who you were from them, but tonight probably wasn’t the best time to come out.” He paused for a moment. “You know if you ever have any questions, I am a certified medical professional. And as a bisexual man myself, I can give you advice on how to handle family members whom you don’t quite see eye-to-eye with.” 

The Farmer blinked, then looked at Harvey incredulously. If he had the energy, he was sure he’d have done a double take.

“You’d be surprised at all the attractive individuals I met in pre-med.” Harvey cleared his throat, looking a little flustered at the reveal. “I ah…told my family one year that I was taking a date home for the holidays and I surprised a few of them by bringing a man home. So, I have my own experience to offer, if you need any.” 

Harvey waved a hand quickly, dismissing himself. “But not now. Right now, you need some undisturbed rest to let your wound heal. I’ll check up on you in the morning. If you need anything, just push that button next to the bed. I’ll be just upstairs.” 

With that, Harvey quickly stepped out of the room, leaving The Farmer alone to process everything that had just happened.

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 16

“This was a very thoughtful idea Alex,” Evelyn said to her grandson as they walked towards the clinic. 

“You really didn’t need to come with though,” Alex half-mumbled. He raised the two plastic bags in his hands slightly. Truthfully he wanted to be as along with The Farmer as possible, but his grandma was strangely instant. “I can carry everything just fine.” 

“Oh, humor an old lady, won’t you?” Evelyn chuckled. “I’ve barely left the house this winter. It’s not a bad idea to get a nice dose of that crisp winter air. Besides, I think it would be nice to meet The Farmer’s mother after all this time.” 

Alex cast a sidelong glance at his grandma. Her words felt like they carried more weight to them, but Evelyn’s face was stuck in a small, innocent grin and Alex couldn’t discern anything from it. Even his grandpa had started acting strangely since Alex had mentioned The Farmer’s parents were in town. 

The two continued their short walk, the snow crunching softly under their feet as they did. Alex could still barely make out the tire treads of Lewis’ truck on the path ahead of them. The storm must have ended shortly after the mayor had finally returned home. The sun was still low in the early morning sky, unable to offer much warmth to the sleepy residents of the town. There were no signs that anyone else was up and about, leaving Alex and his grandmother alone when they reached the clinic’s front door. 

“Unless it’s an emergency we’re closed!” Harvey’s voice came through after they’d knocked several times. His tone was heavy and sharp, weighed down by lack of sleep. 

“We brought food!” Evelyn’s cheerful voice countered. 

There was silence for a few moments, and Alex swore he could hear the faintest whisper of an exasperated sigh. The door swung open to Harvey, nursing a cup of coffee in one hand. From the bags under his eyes to the unkempt hair, Alex could tell that the doctor hadn’t gotten much rest. He had a sneaking suspicion that a certain mother was the cause.

Harvey swept his hand holding the coffee inside, splashing a few drops onto the floor as he did. “Well, come on in. They’re already here, so you might as well too.” 

“Thank you,” Evelyn stepped inside before Harvey could change his mind. She quickly took one of the bags from Alex and produced a Tupperware container from it. “Here you are deary, scrambled eggs, sausage, and steamed broccoli.” 

“Thanks,” Harvey mumbled. He plopped down into one of the chairs of the waiting room and popped open the Tupperware. He picked out a few pieces of the food and began eating it with his fingers.   

Evelyn hobbled away, paying no mind to the doctor. Alex struggled to keep pace with her, surprised at her uncharacteristic speed. The last time he saw his grandma move this quickly was when she’d seen a deer attempting to eat her flowers in the backyard. The sight of a screaming old woman brandishing a broom wildly through the air probably haunted that deer to this very day. 

When Evelyn pushed open the door, Alex froze, realizing too late that he hadn’t mentally prepared himself for this moment. How would The Farmer look? Would he have to face The Farmer’s mother again? Should he expect to be slapped the moment he showed his face? But most importantly, how much of last night did The Farmer remember?

His grandmother gave him no time to steel himself. The door swung open, and the sight of The Farmer sitting up in bed dashed all of Alex’s questions from his mind. The Farmer was still in the hospital gown from last night, but he also had Alex’s letterman jacket wrapped around him. It ignited a primal warmth within him, rumbling through his chest. As Evelyn crossed over and gently pinched The Farmer’s cheek, the feeling in Alex grew. 

He was smiling. The Farmer was smiling. And that single, silly action was all that Alex’s soul needed to be at peace. Yesterday had put his heart through the emotional ringer. It had felt like a never-ending cycle of relief, fear, anxiety, and joy, all trying to vigorously pull Alex in their own directions. But now, The Farmer was awake, talking and laughing with Evelyn. His cheeks had color in them again, forgoing the ghastly white they’d been last night. He was no longer hooked up to the heartrate monitor, and if it wasn’t for a few bandaged cuts on his face, The Farmer looked just like he always had. 

“Excuse me, but who exactly are you?” The Farmer’s mother demanded. 

Her words were like a whip, and Alex’s inner peace fled like a frightened animal. She and The Farmer’s Father were sitting in chairs directly to the right of the door. Alex hadn’t even realized they were there. The Farmer’s mother looked like she’d also gotten little sleep last night. Like Harvey, she had bags under her eyes and was in the same outfit Alex had briefly seen her in last night. 

“Darling,” Her husband said in a warning tone. He stood up, crossed the room, and extended his hand to Evelyn. “Clearly she’s a friend of our son’s. It’s nice to meet you, I’m The Farmer’s father.” 

“Oh, what a gentleman.” Evelyn shook his hand, chuckling softly. “I’m Evelyn. I can see that your son must have gotten his good spirit from you. He’s been such a blessing to everyone in town. Always willing to help and he grows the most spectacular vegetables I’ve ever tasted. They’ve made my already famous soups even more famous!” 

Evelyn and The Farmer’s father chuckled while The Farmer’s mother slowly approached. She extended her hand as well. Her voice did not carry the same natural warmth as her husbands did. “I’m his mother.” 

“Yes, you are.” Evelyn did not shake the other woman's hand. Instead, she pulled out a piece of Tupperware from the plastic bag she’d stolen from Alex earlier. If Alex hadn’t known better, he could have sworn he saw the tiniest glimmer of disdain in Evelyn’s eyes as she gave The Farmer’s mother a once over. 

“Here you are,” Evelyn continued, her voice carrying its usual cheer as she placed the container in the extended hand.

The Farmer’s mother stared at the unexpected gift for a moment, caught off guard. “Ah, what is this?” 

“Oh, Alex had the most wonderful idea this morning. We made all three of you breakfast!” Evelyn waved Alex in, who was still standing in the doorway. “After everything that happened last night, a good home-cooked meal will make you feel right as rain. And besides, nothing is open until nine in this town. Even then, you’d be stuck with prepackaged food for breakfast as Gus doesn’t open the Saloon until noon.” 

When Evelyn had mentioned her grandson, The Farmer’s eyes flicked over to met Alex’s. He gave a small smile and Alex felt breathless. It was like dozens of butterflies had simultaneously been born into his lungs. He felt flustered, suddenly unsure of what to say or do.  He wanted to drop everything, pull The Farmer into his arms, and let the tears of relief flow. 

But now was hardly the right time to break down and spill everything. Then, what was he supposed to say? Was he just supposed to smile and make small talk. Was he to pretend that he hadn't realized a life without The Farmer in it, was a life he didn’t want to live?

All eyes were on him. Evelyn had stopped talking and the time that had passed since she’d finished was rapidly approaching an awkward silence. Feeling even more flustered than before, Alex quickly stepped into the room. He couldn’t continue to meet The Farmer’s eyes. He knew that if they met again, the flimsy wall he’d built up around his emotions would crumble. So instead, he started pulling out various-sized Tupperware and shoving them into the hands of the people around the room. 

“That’s bacon and sausage,” He said quickly, referring to the one in The Farmer’s mother's hand. “We also made hash browns, scrambled eggs, and pancakes. There’s a smaller container in the pancake one with syrup and this one's coffee. And…damn, I forgot the orange juice.” 

“Oh my,” The Farmer’s father exclaimed with a small laugh, balancing three of containers and a thermos in his hands. “Why this all sounds delicious. It’s like we’re eating a complete breakfast at Snacker Barrel! Are you certain we can have all this?” 

“Oh of course,” Evelyn chuckled. “Taking care of a simple breakfast is the least we can do after everything The Farmer’s done for us. My husband loves having spring leeks in his soup, but it’s so terribly hard for me to trek out into the forest to look for them. Your son’s been generous enough to bring us some whenever he goes out there himself.” 

The Farmer’s father gave a hearty laugh, and he and Evelyn continued to exchange cheerful remarks with each other. In the other half of the room, Alex, The Farmer, and his mother stood by silently, looking at the two social butterflies. There was a slight chill that ran down his back, and Alex swore it was thanks to a ghost in the room. On top of that, the sheer intimidation he felt radiating off The Farmer’s mother was unlike anything he’d ever felt before, and that included his old high school gridball coach who screamed everything he said. Even though she was fiddling with her phone, presumably sending an email or something, Alex could feel her full hostility directed at him.

“So,” Alex choked on the single word, coughing to clear his throat. He wanted to say something, but the presence of The Farmer’s mother made him feel like his own thoughts were under intense scrutiny. So, he said the most neutral thing he could think of. “I can help with the animals again. Since you’re not going to be able to take care of them for a while.” 

“We can do that,” The Farmer’s mother said. Her voice was like the cold snap of an icicle breaking free from the room and impaling Alex’s idea. “All we need to do is feed them, right? Even I could handle that.” 

“Oh, I think it might be a little more complicated than that.” The Farmer’s father immediately came to Alex’s rescue. He’d put down most of the tupperware on the bedside table while talking with Evelyn and was currently picking out the crispiest parts of the hash browns with his fingers from the container he still held. Parts of the potato clung to his beard as he talked. “Besides, he can show us where all the supplies are. That’d be easier than scavenging through the snow ourselves, don’t you think?” 

The Farmer’s mother frowned at her husband but was interrupted by her ringtone before she could respond. She looked down to send the call to voicemail before coinciding. “I suppose you’re right. It’s too cold out to be fumbling around in a barn.” 

The Farmer’s father beamed. He crossed the room and happily gave Alex’s back a good-natured slap. “Alright, my boy! Why don’t you and I head on out and you can teach me all I need to know to start living the country life, eh?” 

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want to finish eating first?” Evelyn asked. 

He waved off her comment. “Oh, if I sit around here, I’ll eat everything before my wife or son even get a chance!” He laughed heartily. “But why don’t you come with us too? You can share your secret technique for getting those hash browns coming out so perfectly.” 

The Farmer’s father extended his arm to her and Evelyn chuckled as she took it. “Oh, that’s a family secret I’ve passed onto Alex. You’ll have to convince him to give it up.” 

As the duo were making their way out of the room, Alex caught The Farmer’s father giving a quick wink in his son’s direction. “Well, you never know what the future holds.”

The Farmer watched his father leave with Alex and Evelyn, feeling ready to strangle the man. If that last, knowing look was anything to go by, his father had turned on the ‘Ally!’ switch far too hard. Yoba knew what sort of things he was going to say to Evelyn in the attempt to play wingman for his son.

Luckily, Alex hadn’t caught on to the hidden meaning behind The Farmer’s father’s words. Alex's attention was focused on him. Before he left, he placed a hand on The Farmer's shoulder. It was a strong, but hesitant grip, and The Farmer wanted to believe that Alex wanted more than this simple touch; just as he also wanted.

"I..." Alex started, his eyes cast downward. There was a tint of sadness to Alex's expression before he looked up and smiled. "I'm really glad that you're okay." 

The Farmer reached up, placing his hand over Alex's and smiling back. "A few oversized rocks can't keep me from those philosophy pancakes you owe me." 

Alex's smile grew, but he gave a slightly exasperated sigh. "How about you promise me to stay away from the mines for a while, and I'll make sure to bring those by." 

The Farmer laughed softly, "Okay, I promise." 

Alex's hand fell away, and with a promise to stop by again later today and a sad smile, Alex left to follow the parents to the farm. The smile he'd given twisted The Farmer's heart. It was a small and sad smile that said far more than words ever could. 

Now he was left alone with his mother, and The Farmer dreaded looking over to her. He'd partially forgotten she was there, and after that exchange with Alex, he could already imagine the sort of conversation they were going to be having. Especially now that his mother knew he was gay. 

When he finally looked to her, he found his mother was still preoccupied on her phone. She was furiously typing out a message, and The Farmer wondered if she'd been distracted by it, or if she'd purposefully used it to distract herself.

It rang again, but she sent it to voicemail quickly and resumed typing her previous message. The Farmer fell gently back onto his bed, staring after the door longingly. An icy silence filled the room, and The Farmer could practically see the white haze of his breath. Eventually, his mother's phone rang again, and she once again sent the call to voicemail. Only this time, instead of resuming her typing she broke the silence with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m not mad that you’re gay,” She flatly said. The Farmer turned to her, finding her eyes were cast at the far side of the room and swimming with memories. “I know what it sounded like last night, but I, that was the last thing I expected to hear, and I reacted poorly. I’m mad that you don’t talk to me like you used to. I'm mad that I don't even know who my own son is. I’m mad that...that you remind me so much of my father.”

The Farmer arched an eyebrow. “Of grandpa?” 

She nodded sadly. "You two have the same bad habit. You think that you need to do everything on your own and forget that there are people in this world who care about your wellbeing. I’ve never told you this before,” She suddenly changed the topic and cast a sad look at her son. “But I didn’t realize my mother had died until a year after it happened.”

The Farmer felt his mouth drop open. His brow knit together in confusion and he didn’t know how he should react or if he should even say anything. He’d expected she’d bring up his sexuality once they were alone, not drop some secret family drama on him.

“I’d been dating your father for a year at this point,” his mother continued. “I figured it was time to introduce him to my parents. I decided it was going to be a surprise visit and shower them with gifts as an apology for not speaking to them for nearly a year. We made the drive home and when I knocked on the door, a different family answered. I had to interrogate the neighbors until I found out what happened. Your Grandma had been in an accident, struck by a car while crossing the street. There was no funeral, only my father and the priest were at mom’s side when they lowered her into the ground. After that, he sold the house and disappeared.”

If The Farmer hadn’t known better, he could have sworn his mother was on the verge of tears as her hands tightened into fists. “Do you know how it felt to see a gravestone with my mom's name carved into it? To know that I’d missed my chance to say goodbye to her. I was angry, and I blamed everything on my dad. When my mother died, he ran away from everything, including his daughter.” Slowly, her fists unfurled, and her voice softened. “I know it was partly my fault though. I was too wrapped up in my own life, my career, my new relationship, to even call home. I Ignored phone calls and voicemails, always telling myself I’d respond later but always forgetting. I know technology wasn’t like it is now, but that’s no excuse...” 

A short silence fell over them, and The Farmer felt he needed to break it. “Mom…I'm so sorry.” 

Her head shot up and the beginning of tears were forming at the edges of her eyes. “I thought I was going to have to relive that moment with you! I thought that I was going to show up to this town and find a gravestone with my son’s name on it! I know you resented my overprotectiveness. I know I suffocated you after your accident," she grasped her hands in front of herself as the tears fell. "I know you resented me, looked for the first excuse to move out the second you turned eighteen, but I couldn't stop myself from trying to keep you at my side. I was just so terrified to lose you.  You haven’t answered any of my calls or texts for nearly a year. Then the first time I think you’re finally reaching out, it’s some stranger asking for your blood type!” 

The Farmer dropped his gaze. “I’m sorry…” 

The Farmer’s mother huffed angrily, wiping away her tears. “Sorry doesn’t-” she started, but then cut herself off. She took several deep breaths to calm herself, and every now and then The Farmer would chance a look at his mother. This was a side of her he’d never seen. Usually, she was so deep in her own work that she hardly offered him a second glance. During his childhood, she’d go through the motions of parenthood—like a kiss on the head before she left for work or a basic question about school when he got home—but she’d never taken a deeper interest in his life beyond restricting him to the house. So, seeing her like that…

The Farmer removed his bedsheets and slowly got up. Ignoring the pain that was intensifying every time his stomach so much as moved, he approached his mother and wrapped his arms around her. 

His mother stiffened, “What are you doing?” 

“I’m hugging you.” The Farmer said, his chin resting on her shoulder. He never realized how much taller he was than her. 

She sighed, then gently put her arms around him as well. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.”

“I know, but you needed it. Besides, when was the last time you hugged me?” 

There was a slight pause before she answered. “Dear Yoba, I feel like a terrible mother. Get back to bed before the doctor sees you.  I don’t want him banning me from setting foot in Pelican Town again.” 

They separated, and The Farmer leaned more heavily on his mother as she guided him back to the bed. Once he had been settled, The Farmer’s mother sat in the bedside chair, her hands in her lap. “Look,” she said, “I know I wasn’t exactly the doting mother during your childhood, but I want you to know I still love you in my own way. At the very least I want you to remember you’re allowed to rely on your father and I. You didn’t need to run all the way to Pelican Town and cut all contact.” 

“Alex has told me something similar,” The Farmer admitted. “That I can rely on him and everyone else in town. He said I need to ask for help more often.” 

The Farmer’s mother snorted. “Well at least that troublemaker has learned something you clearly haven’t yet. Maybe he’s grown since the last time I was here.” 

“What?” 

But before she could answer, her phone rang. This time, she answered it with an extremely exaggerated groan of annoyance. “Anderson, if the building is not burning down then it is not an emergency! I will call you back.” If flip phones were still in style, The Farmer could easily imagine his mother slamming the phone shut. 

The Farmer regarded her again, taking in her features more closely. She’d lost her domineering businesswoman aura that he’d remembered her always having. Now she gave off a general air of annoyance whenever her phone pinged. There were the beginnings of several wrinkles across her forehead and around her eyes. He could even spot a few noticeable grey hairs she apparently no longer had the time to touch up. 

Her eyes snapped to him then, making The Farmer jump slightly. She continued. “When you told us that you were moving out here to follow in your grandfather’s steps, do you know what I told myself?” 

“That I was insane?” 

“Yes,” She admitted, “But I also, that this time, I wouldn’t lose contact with you like I did with my father. I called, I texted, I sent you letters, but you inherited your grandfather’s selfishness when it comes to communication. The only reason I knew you were still alive was seeing that you’d at least read my text messages.”

“I wanted to start over,” The Farmer blurted out. He saw the surprise register on his mother's face. His own cheeks felt warm and he couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt like opening up to her. “You're right though. I used college as my excuse to get out of the house and away from you. I didn't have a reason for picking the school I did, beyond the fact that it was just far enough away that it would be inconvenient for you guys to visit me frequently."

His mother snorted. "It was eight hours, round trip. I always felt there was a hidden motive there."

"Well you didn't exactly promote a welcoming environment at home." The Farmer countered. "Like I said, I didn't have a reason for my school of choice. I just wanted a place to be on my own and learn about myself. So when I graduated, I was lost. I felt like I was flailing around in the dark and just grabbing at whatever I could. I only accepted that job at Joja because they scouted me, but that job made me feel so lifeless. They put pressure and guilt on me if I didn’t do the overtime that everyone else. My life became an endless cycle of sleeping and working. I never had time for anything else. That’s part I moved back out here because I remember how happy I was with grandpa. I thought that maybe if I could be out here and living the life he lived, I could be that happy again. But now...there’s so much that happened out here that I feel like a giant ball of stress just trying not to explode. Like trying to recapture that happiness was the wrong and impulsive thing to do.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to be happy,” his mother said. She reached out and placed her hand on his knee. “But no matter where you go in life, you’re always going to have things that stress you out. But the mistake that both you and your grandfather made was isolating yourselves. People aren’t meant to deal with all their problems alone. The connections you make with other people are the most important thing in life.”

The Farmer smirked, then explained himself when his mother quirked an eyebrow. “Grandpa said something like that in the same letter he left for me when he died.”

“Well, I am his daughter. I still agreed with him on a few things.” Her phone buzzed again, and she removed her hand to read the message. From the additional buzzing and the way her frown was transitioning to a scowl, The Farmer could tell that whoever this Anderson person was that was contacting her, their job was currently in danger.

As she typed out her furious replies, The Farmer looked down at his hands and started to recall memories of his grandpa. Maybe it was because of his accident when he was a child, or simply because they were memories from childhood, but The Farmer realized he couldn’t recall any negative aspects of his grandfather. It almost made him doubt what his mother had just told him. But why would she lie about something like that?

“Hey mom,” he asked, “If grandpa did something that terrible to you, how come we always visited so often?” 

His mother stopped typing. A sad sort of smile touched her face. “That was thanks to your father.” 

“Really?” 

She nodded. “After I tracked my dad down to Pelican Town and I chewed him out, I thought I was fine with never speaking to him again. He didn’t even know I was pregnant. But when your father was holding you for the first time in his arms, he told me that we should introduce you to your grandpa. I don’t know if it was the hormones or because I’d just given birth, but I agreed.” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes again. “He cried when he first held you, you know. Just broke down and begged for my forgiveness.” 

“What’d you do?” 

“Well, since we’re a family of stubborn-headed individuals who can barely articulate our feelings, I broke down and hugged him. We were on the floor in seconds, cradling you in our arms and sobbing our eyes out.” She paused to laugh a little. “Your father, the goof, was crying even harder than us.” 

The Farmer laughed. “I can see that. I’m sure I remember him crying at the end of every animated movie I made you guys take me to.” 

His mother smiled. “I’m sure I would have reconnected with my father eventually, but it’s thanks to your father that it was as soon as it was. It took some rather lengthy therapy sessions, but I came to realize that I missed him. I eventually came to accept that while I lost my mother, he’d lost his life partner when she was as healthy as can be. That kind of shock and trauma...it changes people. I can almost understand why he did what he did. I’d left him alone and basically forgotten, in order to pursue my own career.” 

Once again, she was interrupted by her phone. The Farmer could almost see the blood vessel on her forehead pulse with annoyance when she answered it. “Anderson, I told, wait....” She shot up and her voice rose to an octave that surely even Dusty could hear. “You lost what!?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed as she listened to the hurried voice. Eventually she looked to her son and covered the mouthpiece. “I’m sorry, but I need to do some damage control right now. We’ll talk more later. Just…” She paused again, looking up to the ceiling and considering her words. “You said before your life was an endless cycle, with nothing new, only work and sleep. And now your life is a ball of stress with everything that happens. Just ask yourself, what would you rather have? A life of repetition, or one filled with new experiences?” 

The Farmer’s mother left the room quickly, closing the door behind her. When she’d gone, The Farmer sunk back into the bed. Despite the cloud of misery and pain that was ever constantly hanging over him and his stomach, he had to admit, he felt lighter now.

Saber gave a warning growl, a deep rumble that grew from the back of his throat. His orange fur was fluffed and standing on end, from the tip of his tail to the back of his neck. Behind him was the freezer, and in front of him were three Junimos: Orange, Blue, and Green. 

Orange stood directly in front of Saber; its little stumpy hands held up cautiously. “Hey there Mr. Beast. How are you today?” 

Saber growled again, eyes flicking to Blue and Green, who were both inching their way in a circle around him. 

“Ha-ha, oh you’re so funny!” Orange forcibly laughed. “Yes, we know we don’t live here. We’re just here to see you!” 

“Meow?” 

“We even have a gift! Show him Green.” 

“Okay!” Green threw up its arms and the air shimmered.

Saber spun immediately towards Green. He swiped through the air above the spirit, claws fully extended. Green screamed in terror, pressing its small body into the floor. From the shimmering air, a freshly caught carp materialized. Saber, already mid-swipe, sent it flying across the kitchen floor. Silence filled the kitchen as the three Junimos and cat all stared at the fish. When a moment finally passed, the fish suddenly started to flop across the floor in panic.

“Look, it’s so fresh it’s still alive!” Orange chuckled nervously. When Saber looked back at the Junimo, Orange threw in some jazz hand gestures to assure Saber it was an extra special fish. 

Saber’s tail twitched back and forth rapidly, another growl building in his throat. 

“We mean no harm, I promise,” Orange said. “We just wanted to see you.” 

“Yes, yes! We want to be friends,” Green added in, jumping up and down next to Orange. 

Saber’s eyes flicked between the two spirits. They were up to something. The little sweat marks forming on their bodies was a clear giveaway. He just wasn’t sure what. Cautiously, Saber sat on his haunches, but his muscles were still poised to pounce at a moment's notice. “Meow.” 

“Why? Well, why not?” Orange said in a voice several octaves higher than normal. 

“We only fought with you because we were scared of you at first!” Green said. “You chased us when we came too close and we threw things at you and called you names and burned that cursed effigy we made of you…” 

“Meow?” 

Orange launched itself at the other spirit, body slamming itself over Green’s face. “GREEN DIDN’T MEAN THAT, HAHAHAH. OH, THEY’RE SUCH A RIOT! HAHAHAHAHAHAH.” 

“I got it, the memory to be severed!” 

Saber spun, eyes locking instantly on Blue who had managed to get the freezer door open without the cat noticing. Blue waved a large plastic bag filled with frozen strawberries above its head. The outside of the bag had the date written on it in black marker in with The Athlete’s penmanship.

Saber launched himself into the air.

“RUN!” Orange and Green shouted together. 

Blue’s following scream sounded like it had been ripped directly from a horror movie. The little spirit leapt from the freezer and tumbled across the hardwood floors. Without pausing, Saber bounded off the refrigerator door and sailed through the air towards the spirit. Blue began sprinting through the house, its horrified screams filling the air. Cat and spirit raced through the small area—diving beneath the table, leaping over the couch, even almost out the window—but Saber was too quick. Any time it looked like Blue was about to get away, Saber’s paw was able to just barely swat the spirit back towards the center of the room.

Orange and Green decided to help by grabbing whatever nearby objects they could find and flinging them at Saber; books, dishes, the TV remote, Saber dodged them all and ignored the sounds of shattering dinnerware behind him. His entire being was devoted to catching Blue. He wasn’t sure what they needed with the strawberries, but the cat could tell it wasn’t for anything good. 

“I’ve got it!” Green suddenly shouted, summoning a small red object into its hands, and then hurtling it towards Saber. “Cherry bomb!” 

The bomb made a loud ‘SNAP’ when it impacted, accompanied by a bright flash. Saber yowled, skidding to a halt, and rearing back out of pure instinct. The spirits all shouted something, but the flash had disoriented Saber so much that the cat couldn’t hear what had been said. Shaking his head back and forth a few times brought Saber’s vision back to him, but by the time it had, the three Junimo had vanished. 

Saber huffed, but before he could look around for clues, the overhead light came to life, and a new voice accompanied it. “Oh, what in Yoba’s name happened here?” 

Two new humans stood in the doorway, a man, and a woman, both looking somewhat like his own human. The woman had spotted Saber and gasped in alarm. “Did you do this? Oh, you naughty little cat, you’re spending the night outside!” 

As she began to approach, Saber backed away and calculated his escape plan. However, the few seconds he took proved to be his downfall, as the woman managed to scoop him and throw the cat outside before he could even react to what had happened. When Saber landed on his feet, he looked back at the human. 

“Now think about what you’ve done,” she scolded him, brandishing her finger towards the feline. “Do you have any idea what sort of damage you’ve caused? Now we have to clean this all up! And is that a live fish?!” 

Saber flinched as the door slammed shut. His ears and tail twitched in annoyance and he had to lick down tuffs of his fur that the woman had ruffled. Whatever that was all about could wait. He needed to find those spirits before they did anything. With a final lick down his side, Saber set off towards the community center. 

Chapter Text

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 17

“This has to be the most convoluted, roundabout idea that you’ve had to date.” Haley pulled her scarf a little tighter around her neck and then shoved her hands into her pockets. The morning air nipped at her legs, meaning they had to be within the coldest few days of the year. It was the timeframe in which Haley would consider doing something as ghastly as trading in her signature blue dress and tights for a pair of denim jeans. It was a measure she’d had to resort to only once in her life.

“I know, I know,” Alex slapped his hands together and bowed deeply to Haley. “I love you, and I can’t thank you enough for this.”

Haley rolled her eyes. “You’re lucky that I love you too. Only love and insanity could drag someone out of bed this early. Winter’s meant for sleeping in until noon and being lazy inside.” 

“Haley, you know I literally cannot thank you enough.”

“I know,” Haley couldn’t help but give a small smile. “Depending on how this little event of yours turns out, you’ll probably end up thanking me every day for the rest of your life.” 

Alex’s head shot up. “You think it’ll work?” 

Dear Yoba, Haley had to look away from those fatal puppy-dog eyes. Any time Alex busted them out, she couldn’t refuse him. When he showed up on her doorstep, with dark bags under his excitement-filled eyes, she knew she was going to get roped into something. He was just like an older dog, slow one moment and then bursting with energy and excited tail wagging the next.

She rolled her eyes at him. “I think you don’t need to go out of your way to make excuses to talk to him; so of course I think it’s going to work. When haven't things worked out between you two? You two were literally joined at the hip and shamelessly fliting before his accident. I just think it would be much easier if you just did it the old-fashioned way and talked about it to him.” 

Alex’s eyes dropped to the ground. “I can’t yet. At least, not until we’re alone. I need to do this because I just don’t know if I’ll be able to control what I say in front of him.” 

Haley reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “Look, as long as you’re not proposing to him, I think you’ll be forgiven for anything you might say in front of his parents. But I do have to say: that text you sent me last night was novel length. I’m surprised you even got Gus on board with this scheme.” 

“He seemed pretty excited when I asked him about it. You don’t think it was too much? Was it imposing to ask?” 

“You’re better off asking Emily,” she admitted.  “She knows him better. But honestly, you shouldn’t worry about it. Just don’t chicken out this time, okay?” 

Alex nodded, but Haley could still easily read the nervousness in his expression. He looked like he was preparing to jump out of a plane, not talk with his crush. 

Alex pulled out his phone, checking the time, then said, “Okay, we should probably get going.” 

Haley dropped her arm and gave him a playful smile. “The sooner this is over the sooner I can crawl into the embrace of my comforter.”

Alex thanked her once more before he situated himself within the bushes at the edge of The Farmer’s property. He quickly dusted over his footprints in the snow before giving Haley a thumbs up and disappearing. 

Haley rolled her eyes again. This was ridiculous, but admittedly a little charming. The amount of effort some men would go to just to talk to the person they liked was insane. But, then again, this was Alex. Alex, the boy who hardly ever put any thought into non-gridball related activities, was now shrub-deep in an elaborate 15-point plan he’d concocted in the middle of a sleepless night. Her best friend was currently dancing the fine line between romantic and stalker. And today’s idea was only the most recent in his string of excuses he’d made up just to spend more time with The Farmer. 

Haley wasn’t as blind as Alex might have thought. She’d always believed herself to be intuitive, even as a kid. She knew that there was something going on between the two men, that things had changed the night of the hurricane. She realized it back during her first casual trip to the farm this last summer. She always had the distinct feeling of being a third wheel; though, she wasn’t quite sure what kind of relationship she had been third wheeling in. Alex had both the looks and personality that just naturally drew people to him. He was like a porchlight to insects on a summer night. She could see it in The Farmer’s eyes, in the way he’d quickly avert them whenever Alex did something remotely cute or some of his oblivious flirting. Haley initially assumed that The Farmer would just be another dead fly on her ever-growing list of ‘People who had a crush on Alex.’ The Farmer would eventually get over this crush and distance himself.  That’s what everyone did. 

Only this time, it didn’t work out like that. First off, Alex began to change. It was remarkable to her, thinking back on how much had changed in the last year.  Especially more so compared to their time in high school. 

Back then, they’d both initially been absorbed into different social circles. Haley had always kept a curious eye on Alex back then, given how they'd grown up together but weren't that close.  He’d easily been pulled into the ‘popular kids’ circle, which wasn't much of a surprise. Alex fit very snuggly into many teenage girl’s daydreams of the perfect boyfriend. Haley would watch them fawn over him. They’d drop innuendos that flew right over his head, or ‘innocently’ touch him and not pay any attention to the way he’d always brush them off. She’d known a small bit of what had happened in his past because of all the gossip she’d overhead around town. He carried textbooks and pencils on the bus to school, but his other baggage included a dead mother and deadbeat dad. That explained why he’d been so reserved as a young child. 

When Alex first moved to Pelican town, he had taken to hiding behind his grandmother or grandfather and never spoke. He only communicated in nods and shakes of his head. It took time, but eventually Alex came out of his shell and acted like any other kid in town. But suddenly, he turned tail and retreated behind the safety of his grandparents' front door. In the days following, it was a regular scene for doctors to fly into town and disappear into the Mullner residence for hours on end. Therapists, Haley later learned from eavesdropping on gossip. Week after week, a new one would arrive in town, only to never return. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch, Haley found Alex outside playing ball with Dusty laughing and smiling like the last few months of isolation never happened. 

Even a young Haley knew something wasn’t right. Town gossip got her nowhere. Everyone kept saying how relieved they were that one of the therapists had finally managed to ‘cure’ him after a single visit. It would have been easy enough to accept that bullshit answer as everyone else did, but something about that boy caught her attention. It eventually developed into a need to discover the truth—her eyes and ears were always on alert for any scrap of information she could find.

When they reached high school, her other friends, being typical teenagers, assumed her constant curiosity of him meant she had a crush on him. In her second year, she was pushed towards the cheerleader tryouts. After making the team, she was naturally pulled into the same circle that encompassed Alex. They were a group of kids that centered their entire personalities around the varsity jackets and cheer uniforms they wore. Within that circle, Haley was better able to observe him.

What stuck out the most to Haley was that even after Alex rose to become star quarterback in his third year, there was a perceptible lack of commitment. Sure, on the field he had an obvious love and passion for the sport. But off the field, he didn’t appear to enjoy the limelight that came with the status. Over time, Haley realized he had never started a conversation himself; he had never sought out other people, and despite being the center of attention, he’d happily duck into the sidelines at first chance he got. It was like he was just doing what he thought others wanted him to do, simply playing the part so he could stay on the field.

She got the confirmation she needed in their fourth year of high school. It was during a rip-off of one of those house parties you'd find in movies. A bunch of kids were left in a house absent any supervision; music blasted throughout the building from several different sources, everyone held some sort of plastic drink cup, and the token ‘weird’ couple was making out in the corner. Haley hadn’t wanted to be there, but her friends had camped out at the bus stop and basically kidnapped her. The scheme her friends had hatched up became painfully evident the second she walked in. Within ten minutes, she and Alex got locked in a closet upstairs. One of the guys yelled through the door that they better enjoy their seven minutes in heaven before laughter erupted. 

Alex looked at her, both scared and confused. “Why’d they lock us in here?” 

“Because they want us to start dating.” 

“Oh…do you want to start dating?” 

That was all she needed. Alex was simply going with the flow, doing whatever those around him said to in a roundabout way of seeking validation. She decided to test just how far Alex was willing to play his part. They stood in that closet, making non-existent small talk, and then when the seven minutes were up, she agreed they should start dating. When they had announce it, the entire house cheered. 

For the next month, she played the waiting game. She was always at Alex’s side whenever she could be, but she never once initiated physical contact or conversation. She waited to see what he would do. Would he be the one to reach out and grab her hand? But that moment never came. Even when they were alone, they often sat in silence, doing their own things until another person approached. That's when Haley realized her mistake.

Her waiting game had not gone unnoticed. Alex’s teammates had started harassing him for details. Of course, as all horny teenagers were inclined to know, the particulars they were after were obvious: sex. Although Alex had been truthful by saying nothing has happened, it only resulted in backlash from his testosterone-driven friends. 

Haley needed to do damage control. Her own experience and curiosity was backfiring and hurting Alex, and that rubbed her the wrong way for some reason. So, she started embracing some of the rumors about her. It started small, telling others that she didn’t like public displays of affection. One of her friends even asked if she was “A cold-hearted bitch.” She curtly replied with a ‘Yes.’

Eventually, Haley decided it was time to end the relationship. 

She had made sure to time it perfectly. The day before a four-day weekend, she pulled Alex aside, put on the crocodile tears and broke up with him. She did the whole ‘let's stay friends’ act—but unlike most people, she genuinely meant it. Over the past month, she’d grown protective of Alex. He was always guarded, afraid to voice his opinions, but genuinely a sweet boy that didn’t deserve the shit he was dealing with. 

Naturally, news of their breakup blazed through the school like wildfire. Star quarterback and cheer captain, the dream power couple, and their sudden split. Haley made sure to keep Alex as near to her as possible so she might deter anyone with less than pure motives from trying anything. For the final step of her plan, she also spread another rumor, one that said she broke up with him because she was gay. 

It wasn’t entirely untrue. She did find other girls attractive, just as much as she found boys attractive, but in all honesty, she wasn’t entirely keen on the whole dating thing. She had discreetly slipped a note to the biggest gossip she knew during their final class of the day. Before she and Alex even got onto the bus back to Pelican Town, more than half of the student body were already shooting her looks and exchanging whispers.

From that day forward, she stopped treating Alex like a science experiment and more like an actual friend. It took about half of their final year, but Alex did eventually open up to her. In her book, that was where she counted their true friendship to begin. He still lacked initiative to seek her out as often as she would, but that was just the way he was. The few times that he did, reaffirmed their friendship that much more.

Then came graduation. Alex had this downcast look with dark bags under his eyes. It looked like he had his own personal rain cloud hovering above him. So, after he’d received his diploma without so much as a forced smile, Haley pulled him under the bleachers and demanded in the name of their friendship that he tell her what was wrong. He started sobbing immediately, collapsing into her arms, and told her it was the anniversary of his mother’s death. He truly opened up to her that day, about everything he kept hidden behind his cheerful smile. The more Haley listened, the more her resolve to protect him grew. When he unloaded everything, from his father’s abuse to his own guilt about never being able to do anything for his mother, Haley made a vow to herself under those bleachers.

From that day forward, she would do everything she could to protect him. 

Now, climbing the front steps of The Farmer’s porch, Haley knew that her vow was no longer needed. She would of course, remain Alex’s best friend; what they had could never be replaced or taken away. But now Alex was setting out on a path of his own choosing. He was no longer comfortable with playing the role that he thought others wanted him to, nor did he want to sit in a directionless yet comfortable life with his grandparents. He was making his own choices, pursuing what he wanted, simply because he wanted to. 

She wasn’t going to lie to herself, helping Alex get closer to The Farmer hurt. If things worked out between the two of them, it would naturally mean that Alex would be spending less time with her. It was a selfish sentiment, she knew that. But she had no intentions with Alex beyond his friendship. They had a mutual understanding of love and trust, and she trusted Alex to make time for their friendship in the future. Any amount of hindrance or false advice Haley might have been tempted to give him would have been a betrayal of that trust. She wanted Alex to be happy, and this was the happiest she’d seen him in years, so who was she to stand in the way of it?

Taking a deep breath of the cold air, Haley raised her fist, and knocked three times.

Harvey had released The Farmer from the clinic under strict orders of bed rest and stress-free relaxation. Naturally, sitting at the silent, cramped breakfast table with his mother and father was the exact opposite of the doctor's orders. Neither his father nor mother said a word as they ate their breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon. His father had expressed excitement about eating farm-fresh eggs for the first time in years but had quickly become absorbed in a game on his phone after serving up the food. Whatever it was, The Farmer mentally debated if he should download it too, since it made his dad oblivious to the tension that accompanied the family meal. 

The Farmer and his mother hadn’t said anything beyond a quick good morning. His mother had her phone put away for the time being. She was quietly picking away at her eggs and looking around the room. She hid it well, but he could see the judgement behind her eyes. She’d already cleaned up his house and posted a list on his fridge of things he needed to buy; most of them were basic cleaning supplies written with a thin and neat penmanship. They may have aired out the family laundry last night, but all the years of built-up hostility and other emotions had yet to dissipate. 

“So,” The Farmer’s mother suddenly said, almost making her son jump out of his seat. “How are you doing?” 

Three rapid knocks on the front door saved The Farmer from the awkward small talk. His father looked up from his game and called out, “Who is it?” 

A chipper voice called through the door, “It’s Haley!” 

The farmer's mother looked at her son with an inquisitive arch of her eyebrows. She stood and said, “Were you expecting company?” 

The Farmer shook his head while his mother crossed the room and opened the door. 

“Morning!” Haley chimed as soon as the door opened. Her voice was laced in so much artificial kindness, The Farmer was convinced that she was possessed by the spirit of Joja. He also had a horrific flashback to a company holiday party he’d made the mistake of attending once. “How is everyone this morning?” 

“Well, we’re wonderful!” The Farmer father chimed back. He was the only one present who didn’t seem to notice Haley’s uncharacteristic behavior. “Don’t stand there, come on in. How are you today?” 

Haley gave a small smile to The Farmer’s mother before side-stepping her. The other woman eyed Haley suspiciously as she closed the door. 

“I’m great, thanks for asking,” Haley looked like one of those saleswomen trapped behind a perfume counter, unable to voice her plea to escape. She walked up to the table, boldly taking the position to ignore The Farmer’s mother. From The Farmer’s point of view, it was either the bravest or dumbest thing you could do. 

“So....what are you doing?” The Farmer asked. 

“I’m here to check up on your parents.” 

“Us?” The Farmer mother furrowed an eyebrow. “We're fine, but why would you come all the way out here to check on us?” 

“Mmm, are you really fine?” Haley’s fake pout accented the look of doubt currently in her eyes. Nonchalantly, she cast a glance around the room while making her way around the table until she came to a stop by The Farmer’s side. “I know your son only has one bed here, and this house is barely big enough for one person, let alone three. If I had to guess, I’d say you slept on the couch while your husband did the chivalrous thing and slept on the floor.”

The Farmer’s father chuckled and reached a hand around to rub his own back. “Guilty as charged. Those floorboards weren’t very nice to me.” 

“Soooo, I talked it over with my boss Gus, and he said you guys could stay at the Saloon if you’d like!” 

The Farmer’s expression mirrored his mother. “Since when do you wor-”

He felt a sudden jolt in his chair. Haley had kicked one of its legs and shot The Farmer a swift and silencing glare. Before his parents could process the exchange, Haley continued.

“It’s been a while since the Saloon actually had guests. There’s a whole second floor that nobody ever uses because Pelican Town never has any tourists. Gus, Emily, and I would be delighted if you stayed with us.”

“Thank you for the offer,” The Farmer’s mother started, “But-”

“Now hold on honey,” her husband interrupted. “Let’s not be so quick to reject an offer of hospitality. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, but another night and I think I’ll have to check myself into the local clinic as well. My back is killing me, and I don’t want to subjugate you to that.” 

The Farmer’s mother looked between her husband and Haley, the defeat already apparent in her eyes. “Alright, how much will it cost us for a night?” 

“Nothing at all!” Haley clapped her hands together, tilting her head to the side and accenting her smile. “Gus says that if you’re The Farmer’s family, then you're a family of Pelican Town. Considering the circumstances that brought you to the valley, he’d be happy to provide lodging free of charge for this visit. Just promise you’ll stop down for a meal or two,” She added with a wink. 

“Ah ha ha!” The Farmer’s father slapped his knee as he laughed. “Well, ain’t this town just the picture of a welcoming community! We would be overjoyed to take you up on your offer.” 

“It looks like I came at the perfect time since you’re all done eating breakfast. Let me help you bring your bags over and we can leave The Farmer here to rest for a bit.” 

At mention of him, The Farmer snapped out of whatever trance the past few moments had put him in. Haley’s customer service act was something that no one should have to endure. He honestly thought the pain medication was making him hallucinate the whole situation. His dad and Haley had already gathered up the dirty dishes and put them into the sink. When they passed by the table again, The Farmer made a quick grab for Haley’s wrist while his father had distracted his mother. 

“Hey, what’s going on? Since when do you work at the saloon?” He whispered.

“Since this morning,” Haley whispered back, then added, “Now, don’t get too excited, okay? You’re supposed to be recovering.”

Haley gave him a quick wink and skillfully removed her wrist from his grip before The Farmer could interrogate further. In a whirlwind, his parents' luggage was repacked, and both of them were quickly ushered out of the house. The sudden calm was jarring, and The Farmer found himself sitting alone. He felt like he’d been sitting here for months, staring at the front door everyone had disappeared through. He had convince himself that staring at that door for long enough would reveal Haley’s secret motive. She had to have one. She’d whisked his parents out of here so quickly that not even his own mother had a proper chance to say goodbye. 

The Farmer blinked, not sure how long he had sat there for. Then, when he moved to stand up, he was surprised by a knock from the front door.

Saber and Red were perched on the edge of the roof of the chicken coop, looking down towards the cottage. The Photographer had disappeared into the house a few minutes ago, and every now and again, the two would see The Athlete move slightly as he fidgeted among the bushes.

Saber’s tail lolled below the eaves of the roof, swaying with the winter wind. He and Red looked like two oversized robins that had forgotten to migrate, their colors a stark contrast to the snow behind them.

“Meow.” 

“Look, just because I gave him the idea in his dream last night does not mean I’m meddling.” Red snapped. The Junimo waved its tiny hands around in the sky slowly, but with purpose. Visible only to Red, five impossibly thin threads rose into the sky: four from the house, and one from The Athlete’s hiding spot. With a very quick flick of its hand, Red motioned towards the house, and three of the threads moved away from the fourth. “I'm not making them do anything they don’t want to do already. I’m just giving them the courage to help things along.” 

In the next moment, the front door opened. The Photographer and two other humans stepped out into the snow and quickly made their way off the farm and into town. 

“Meow.” 

“I don’t see you bringing any ideas to the table.” Red countered. “Unless you’d rather see your human lose himself in the darkness of isolation again. The others are only one ingredient away from being able to cast The Witch's curse.” 

Saber’s tail flicked irritably below himself, and the cat resisted his natural instincts to just push Red off the roof like he’d done with so many of The Farmer’s coffee mugs before. The cat let out an irritated huff, his breath coming out as a white haze. 

Red did another quick flurry of its arms, and suddenly The Athlete popped out of the bushes. He gave a quick, cautionary glance down the path leading to town before making his way to the farmhouse. He climbed the stairs, the softened crunch of snow under his boots reaching Saber’s ears. Red raised its right arm, and so did The Athlete. 

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP!

Saber hissed and Red yelped as three small rocks zipped through the air: one hit Saber in the side while the other two pelted Red. The Junimo cried out, knocked from its perch and plummeted towards the ground. 

Sabers eyes went immediately to the tree line, knowing the spirit would be fine. Immediately he spotted a small creature hidden among the shadows of the snow-capped trees. It’s green skin and beady red eyes stood out in the darkness, and it wore a silver metal hat. It held a slingshot in one hand, and when Saber’s eyes spotted it, a toothy grin sprouted across its face. The creature turned and fled deeper into the woods away from the farmstead. 

“Saber?” 

Saber looked towards the house, finding his human standing out on the porch, hugging himself against the cold. The Athlete had pressed himself against the side of the house, out of The Farmer’s view. His face was as red as wildfire, and he had his hands over his mouth to cover up his heavy breathing.

“I’ve been worried sick about you.” The Farmer called from the porch. “Mom said you ran out last night and never came back. Get in here and I’ll make you breakfast.” He returned to the cottage, but left the door open just a crack for Saber. 

The cat gave one final glance at the tree line before gracefully leaping off the roof and landing in the snow. With a quick flick of his tail, he swept some of the powder across Red’s still dazed body before heading into the house. Saber paused at the open door and looked in the direction of The Athlete’s hiding spot. After a moment, The Athlete stuck his head around the corner, jumping slightly at the sight of Saber. Silently, he motioned for the cat to go inside. 

Saber regarded the other human doubtfully, tail drifting slowly back and forth.

“Saber?” The sound of The Farmer’s voice made The Athlete disappear again. The Farmer came back outside, looking at his cat with a raised eyebrow. His gaze followed Saber’s to the edge of the porch. “What is it?” 

Saber sat on his haunches, blinking up at his human. 

The Farmer regarded his cat for a few moments longer, wondering why now of all times Saber wasn’t leaping at the chance for another meal, before walking to the edge of his porch. He looked around the corner, finding no one. Then he looked down and saw the footprints. 

The Farmer groaned loudly before returning to Saber and picking up his cat. “Looks like you’re going to have to go on lookout duty, boy. I think Morris has been camping out in my perennials again.”

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 19

“For Yoba’s sake just text him.” 

“It’s not that simple, Haley.” 

“Yes, it is, you’re just a coward.” 

Alex glared at his best friend from over the top of his phone. They were lounging on the couches in Haley’s living room while a winter storm raged outside. The howling wind made the hairs on the back of Alex’s neck stand up. This storm wasn’t as bad as the one that came over the town when Abby and The Farmer had gotten hurt, but the wind sounded just the same. 

Haley was in her rare, dressed-down clothing of gray sweatpants and one of Emily’s old graphic tees emblazoned with ‘Princess Power’ on the front. It was probably the least fashionable piece she owned, and Alex knew she’d kill him if he ever so much as breathed a word of its existence to anyone in town. She was busying herself with a book, indifferent to Alex’s plight. 

Alex sighed heavily and dropped his phone onto the coffee table. He pulled a throw pillow to his chest and turned into the couch. 

Haley turned the page in her book. “You could have been cuddling with The Farmer instead of my parents' old throw pillows if you’d just text him.” 

“I’m scared.” 

Haley finally looked up from her book to address all this sulking. She held back a sigh, marking her page and setting the book aside in favor of picking his brain. “Of what exactly?” 

Alex took a few moments before answering, gathering the courage to speak his mind. “Change.” 

Haley had to bite back her sarcastic retort, because it was obvious. The man who still lived with his grandparents, jobless, and clinging to his high school gridball career was afraid of change? It’s not like she’d seen this coming years ago. “What exactly is so scary about change?” 

“I like what I have with The Farmer,” Alex said, still talking into the couch. “I want to keep this going for a while longer…” 

“Okay, then what exactly was the point of me running interference the other day?”

“I just...I thought I was ready.”

“Alex, nothing can stay the same forever. That’s how time works. And if you keep avoiding it, soon what you have with The Farmer will change into what you had with him. When’s the last time you actually spent time alone with him?” 

Alex didn’t respond. His thoughts instead drifted through his memories, thinking back to summer. Back then, when the midday sun became too hot, he’d spend a few hours relaxing in the shade of the porch with The Farmer. They talked, but looking back, Alex realized The Farmer had done most of talking. There was something about The Farmer that he liked, something that made him just want to be in his presence. Occasionally there was a small, oscillating fan that they’d set up outside to keep them cool. Alex would explain some of the finer points of Gridball, or recount memories of past matches while The Farmer would bounce both farm and home improvement ideas off Alex. 

There were a few times that summer when Alex had caught The Farmer lost in thought, staring off into the distance. At least, that’s what Alex had always told himself when he’d caught The Farmer’s eye by chance. But now, with his own feelings acting as rose-colored glasses, Alex started to think—no, to hope—that maybe The Farmer had been staring at him instead. Was it just his own wishful thinking, that every time he caught The Farmer’s eyes, the other man looked away with a twinge of embarrassment and coloring his cheeks? 

He thought back to the night of Spirits Eve and how they’d spent the night together in the cabin. He remembered the exhilarating warmth he found when he let himself become wrapped up with The Farmer on the couch. That was the moment in their relationship he felt like he was still chasing. It was something he held precious in his heart, but it was like he had to chase it. As if he were running after a light at the end of a never-ending tunnel. He’d been the one to suggest they spend more time hanging out, but in reality, when had they done that? How was he supposed to move forward? How was he able to recreate that moment? Nothing came to mind, and the helplessness made him feel pathetic.

“Alex? Honey, are you doing okay?” 

Alex turned onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “Haley, do you think he likes me?” 

“You’re going to have to ask him yourself to figure out that question.” 

“No, I’m asking you if you think he likes me.” Alex tried to not let the bitterness seep into his voice. “I don’t want to hear the same, neutral, and ‘safe’ answers you always give me. I want to know your honest, truthful opinion.” 

Haley said nothing for a few moments, before she stood and made her way into the kitchen. Alex only slightly regretted his words, but he wanted to hear the truth from her. Silence hung palpably in the air as she gathered mugs and put a kettle on the stovetop. Tension filled the space as the water heated. Finally, Haley spoke. “Yes, I think he does like you.”

Alex felt heat charge through him, like a horse galloping through his veins. It swept him up, like a wildfire fueled by his racing heartbeat. He felt lightheaded and forced himself to sit up. He was so busy processing this new information that he almost missed what Haley said next. 

“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. It’s the same look you give him when you think he’s not looking. And, if you really want to know what I think, I think you’re both fucking idiots. He’s probably just as dumb and clueless as you are in the romance department.” 

Silence fell again, and Alex clutched the pillow tighter, unsure how he should react. This anxiety-ridden, blood-pounding rush of fire through him made his hands shake in both terror and excitement. Alex stared ahead at nothing as he thought about it. Eventually enough, the fire started dying, slowly replaced with an uneasiness of forming questions. The most pressing one slipped from his tongue. “What do I do now?”

“Well, if you insist on waiting for the ‘perfect moment,’ I honestly don’t believe those exist.” Haley replied. “But if you’re looking for an excuse, I’d say the gift exchange during the winter star feast would be it.” 

“But I got Pierre as my secret gift.” 

“Alex. Literally no one will stop you if you want to also give The Farmer a gift.” 

Alex thought for a few moments, just a bit longer to form the bouncing words in his head into sentences. “I’m just…” He sighed, “I’m scared of how I’ll react, Haley. The last time I was alone with The Farmer, he was bleeding out in my arms. I thought he’d died. You have no idea how badly I wanted to just break down and throw my arms around him when I saw him in the clinic. I wanted to spill everything to him. About how much he means to me...” 

“Then what stopped you?” 

Alex pulled his legs up onto the couch, hugging them to his chest. “I don’t know how he’d react. And…if he does reject me, I’d want it to be more private. I didn’t want to put him in an awkward position.” 

“Awkward positions are a part of life, Alex. We can’t change ourselves if we don’t face the uncomfortable stuff.” 

A heavy breath escaped Alex, exhaustion and frustration replacing it. Neither spoke, and soon the kettle broke the stillness with a piercing whistle. Alex observed Haley as she placed one of the mugs on the coffee table in front of him. She looked tired but offered him a small smile.  

“So,” Haley said. “Do you have an idea of what to get him?” 

Alex uncurled himself and shook his head before reaching for the mug. He recalled the thought he'd had back during Sprits Eve. He'd been so elated that when he'd gotten hope, he'd completely forgotten to text Haley. Now though, it sat prominently in his mind. “I have an idea, but I might need some help. Can I ask what you’re getting Emily?” 

“A special shelf to hold her crystals. But, if you really want to make his first winter star festival special, I know what kind of gift you should give him.” 

“What?” 

She lifted her own mug to the small grin on her face. “Show up at his house with a bow on your head and a note saying you’re his boy toy for the day.”

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 21

“So, everyone knows the plan?” Orange said to the others. 

Green, Blue, and The Witch’s Henchman huddled in the darkness of Cindersap Forest. The sun had set an hour ago, and the last reaches of its light were sinking under the horizon. They all nodded. 

Orange looked to the other three, then fought back an exaggerated sniffle. “I... I just want you to know how proud I am of you all. We’ve worked hard these past few weeks, and our goal is just over the crest. All we need now are those lucky shorts!”

“I’m surprised it took us this long,” Green commented. “The Mayor used to leave them everywhere.” 

The Henchman snickered to himself. "Humans’ relations are funny. I saws them in the mountains before, wild like animals. Nows The Rancher won’t even looks at him.” 

“That’s why we need to step in!” Orange shouted. “The Guildmaster has been thwarting our plans for far too long. Now everyone, get to your positions. The operation starts in o-seven-fifty-delta!” 

“I don’t think that’s how time works…” Blue muttered to themselves before the group dispersed. 

Orange quickly climbed up a pine tree at the edge of the ranch and perched itself on a branch overlooking the path that led from Pelican Town to the forest. From its vantage point, Orange could see the faint glows of Blue and Green in other trees nearby, and the henchman hidden behind some bushes closer to town. 

Their timing was perfect. In the very next moment, The Guildmaster stepped into the forest, a bouquet of flowers in his hands as he approached the ranch. He appeared to be muttering to himself, his lips moving quickly and his face going through multiple expressions as if having a lively conversation with a ghost. Orange threw its hands up and there was a small, ‘Pop!’ that filled the air. 

The henchmen leapt from his hiding spot and planted himself directly in The Guildmaster’s path. The Guildmaster froze as the goblin cackled wildly, throwing his hands and face up to the night sky. 

“YOU!” The flowers dropped from The Guildmaster’s hands. He drew the dagger from the scabbard in his belt and brandished it at the goblin. “That cackle, I’d recognize that cackle anywhere! You’re the one who took my eye! Prepare yourself, I will have my revenge! Come at me, fiend!”

The goblin snorted before turning its backside on the man and smacking its own butt several times. 

The Guildmaster’s face burned scarlet with rage before a scream erupted from his mouth as he leapt at the goblin. It dodged the first attack easily with a snicker. It dropped to the ground, then swept The Guildmaster’s legs out from under him. The goblin raised a hand to its head, forming an ‘L’ with his gnarled green fingers, and blew a raspberry before fleeing into the forest. Another frustrated scream came from The Guildmaster as he scrambled to his feet and gave chase. 

As soon as they faded into the darkness of the forest, Blue and Green dove into the pathway and quickly hid all evidence; the bouquet was picked up by Green and disappeared into thin air, and Blue zipped back and forth across the snow, removing any evidence of the scuffle. Just as the last footprint was covered, another human appeared at the end of the pathway. Orange threw its arms up, and another ‘Pop!’ filled the air. The two Junimos below quickly jumped out of sight. 

Within the next minute, The Mayor’s form became distinguishable as he tentatively approached the ranch. He held a single sheet of paper tightly with both hands. His eyes flickered over the words written there every few steps before looking back up to the ranch. As he passed below Orange’s hiding spot, the Junimo followed. It jumped from tree to tree as noiselessly as possible, disturbing not even the tiniest of snowflakes. 

Once The Mayor reached the front door, Orange had also found itself at the peak of the roof, overlooking the human. Blue and Green’s faint glow illuminated the bushes they hid in nearby. The Mayor looked up and down from the paper in his hand to the front door of the house. 

“Come on…” Orange said quietly. “Just knock…” 

The Mayor’s hand hovered over the door, and doubt crossed his face as if he considered waiting for the snow to melt before he knocked. As he traveled through several journeys of doubt and confidence, Orange quickly lost patience. It had worked too hard learning the human language and faking that letter in The Mayor’s hand. It wasn’t going to let some human spinelessness ruin its plan. The Junimo signaled its allies.

Green and Blue launched themselves at The Mayor. His head made a very satisfying ‘Thump!’ against the wood door when they collided. The Junimos immediately retreated to the cover of the nearby underbrush. 

The Mayor scrambled to his feet like a dog struggling to find his grip on tiled floor. His head whipped around wildly, searching for his attackers. But then, the outside light over the door came on, and the man froze in place. In the next moment, the door opened. 

“Lewis, what are you doing here?” The Rancher asked. She was wrapped up in a fuzzy, pine green robe and had her hair loose rather than in her usual side braid. 

The Mayor quickly turned to face her, but his mouth went suddenly agape at her appearance. His face quickly filled with color, and words failed him. 

The Rancher sighed, crossing her arms. “I’m expecting someone. If you’re here to say something, just say it.” 

Her words snapped The Mayor back, and he stood at attention with his hands at his side. He bent forward in a very rigid bow to her, his hat falling into the snow as he did. “I’m sorry!” He yelled, his voice carrying out over the snowy landscape. 

The Rancher’s expression changed from annoyance to surprise. Her shoulders relaxed slightly as she regarded him. 

“You were right,” he continued. “I’ve made so many mistakes, and you’ve had to pay the price for it. I was selfish, asking to hide our relationship. I thought that I was protecting you from the other townsfolk by asking you to keep quiet, but I was scared. I feared what the others might say about me. I’m having a romantic relationship with someone I was supposed to only have a business relationship with.” 

The Mayor straightened himself up to look at The Rancher, who jumped slightly at his sudden movement. The Mayor’s bottom lip quivered as he spoke. “Losing you has been harder on me than anything else I’ve had to face in my life. I don’t expect you to ever want to take me back, but at the very least I needed to apologize to you. Goodnight.” 

Suddenly, The Mayor about-faced and started marching away from the ranch. 

The Rancher blinked several times, processing the events that had just transpired. When The Mayor was about ten paces away, she suddenly ran after him, snatching his fallen hat in the process. “Lewis, wait!” 

The Mayor froze, not turning to The Rancher as she approached. She slowed as she reached him, clutching his hat to her chest. For a while, they said nothing to each other and only stood there, breathing in the night air. The Mayor eventually turned to face her, his eyes swimming in the water that threatened to break into tears down his checks. “Y-Yes?” 

The Rancher clutched his hat more tightly as she looked into his eyes. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk?”

“Are you sure we should be doing this? I feel dirty.” Green whispered to its fellow Junimos. Orange and Blue sat next to it on the windowsill to The Rancher’s bedroom. 

“We need to wait for the opportune moment,” Orange hissed back. “We need those purple shorts to save The Farmer.” 

“Besides, how much longer can they ‘talk’ for?” Blue raised its arms up to imitate the usage of air quotes, despite not having fingers. “It’s already been three hours.” 

There was a noise above them, and the three spirits froze to slowly look up. The noise drew closer, footsteps, and in the next moment, The Witch’s Henchman peeked his head over the rooftop with a grin plastered on his face. “What’s yous up to?” 

“SHHHHHH!” Orange hissed. “We need to wait for the humans to fall asleep to steal The Mayor’s lucky shorts.” 

“Ohhhhh, can I help? I’m great at stealing, see?” The goblin leapt off the roof, landing next to the Junimos. He was carrying a white bag over his shoulder and dropped it on the ground to reveal a small pile of human clothing. 

Blue leaned forward, tilting its head to the side. “Those look awfully familiar.” 

“That’s cus I stoles them from The Guildmaster. My prizes!” The henchman cackled. “Last time I won I took his eye, this time I took his clothes!” He burst into another fit of giggling, louder than before. 

Before any of the spirits could shush him, a light in the house suddenly came to life. It poured into the backyard from the window next to The Ranchers bedroom. Then, they could hear soft knocking and a young voice call out, “Aunt Marnie, I’m scared.” 

The three spirits and the goblin evacuated from the window, diving behind a feed trough just as that window swung open. The Mayor was scrambling to get out of the house as fast as possible. He succeeded in his task quickly but ended up tripping over the windowsill and falling face first into the snow. His shiny, pale, and unclothed ass gleamed in the moonlight. 

“LEWIS.” The Rancher appeared in the window frame hissing, “What, in Yoba’s name are you doing?” 

The Mayor righted himself, shivering in the cold as he gave a small shrug and sheepish smile. “Old habits?” 

The Rancher was about to say something before the door opened and the light turned on. The Mayor ducked out of view as The Rancher turned to face the newcomer. 

“Aunt Marnie, I’m scared.” The Girl’s voice echoed through the open window. 

“Oh, sweet little Jas. Why are you scared?” The Rancher left the window, walking over and kneeling before The Girl. 

“I-I heard something on the roof, and someone was laughing. I think it was a monster.” Her voice trembled with fear and sounded like she was on the verge of tears. 

“There, there, Jas.” The Rancher said. “Monsters will never come this far down the mountains. We’re safe in the house.” 

“B-but what if they want to come to the house?” 

“Hmm, well then I know just the trick.” The Rancher stood up and started gathering things around her room. “All you have to do is gather up useless trash like this and then go to your window.” 

The Rancher approached the window, and The Mayor looked up at her as she did. Seething contempt burned in her eyes, and she held The Mayor’s clothes in her arms. She unceremoniously dropped the clothes on top of him and covered the saddened look on his pitiful face. “Then, you drop the worthless trash out of the window and tell the monster to never come back.” 

The window slammed shut, and Orange leapt up. “Get the underwear!” It hissed. 

“YOU!” Suddenly, behind them, came another voice. The goblin leapt out of the way just as a two-by-four crashed into the snow where he had just been sitting. The three Junimos vanished as quickly as possible while the goblin continued to dance out of the way of further strikes. The Guildmaster had returned, only he was buck-naked—just like The Mayor. 

The noise drew the other man’s attention, and The Guildmaster and The Mayor locked eyes just as the goblin cartwheeled out of view. The two men pointed accusing fingers at each other. “What are you doing here!?” They screamed in unison.

A beam of light suddenly illuminated both, revealing a third man with purple hair and wearing a blue Joja hoodie. He held a bat and a flashlight in his hands and wore a look of utter confusion on his face. 

The naked men exchanged a glance before both fleeing in opposite directions and disappearing into the forest. The man with the flashlight blinked slowly. He scanned the area once with his implement before letting his bat fall into the snow and held his head. “Did...was that a hallucination?” 

He dropped his hand and then swept it around the yard once more. He paused when it illuminated a group of three bioluminescent squirrels carrying a pair of purple underwear into the trees. He watched where the creatures disappeared before turning off his flashlight with another sigh. “Shane man, you have got to stop drinking so late.”

Year 1

Season Winter

Date: 22

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” The Farmer's mother asked her son. She held one hand to his cheek and another to his forehead to check his temperature. They stood at the edge of the farm with both The Farmer’s father and Abby. It was a clear winter day, the setting sun casting a golden yellow across the sky. 

“I’m fine mom,” He pushed her hands away with just a small degree of annoyance. “Harvey already said I’d make a full recovery.” 

“That doesn’t mean you’ve recovered completely. You still need to take it easy.” 

“Don’t worry, he’s got me to look after him,” Abby smiled. “Sebastian, Sam, and I have already formed a schedule to make sure he won’t ever be left alone until he does.” 

The Farmer’s mother turned to Abby, a look of clearly held-back disdain in her eyes. “If I recall, you’re the one that almost got him-” 

“No,” The Farmer cut off his mother. “We’ve talked about this mom, it was no one's fault. Abby and I have already promised both you and her parents that we won’t go into the mines anytime soon.” 

“If your mother had it her way, she would have made sure you never set foot in the mines again.” The Farmer’s father chuckled, earning himself a distasteful look from his wife. 

She sighed before looking back at her son. “I know you’ll go back to the mine eventually. You’ve always been crafty and loved making things yourself. I just worry about you sweetie.” She reached out again to brush some of the hair out of his face. 

The Farmer gave a small smile, grabbing her hand with his own. He removed it from his face, but held it for a moment longer. He gave it a soft squeeze. “I know mom. I promise I’ll be safer in the future.” 

She gave a small frown. “I’d be happier if you called me more. I don’t like going so long without hearing from you.” 

“I promise I’ll call you more too.” The Farmer smiled, then hugged her. After a few more minutes of talking and reassurances to call, The Farmer’s parents climbed into their black minivan and drove away. 

Abby and The Farmer stood in the cold, watching as the vehicle disappeared down the dirt road, eventually turning towards the highway. “Soooooo,” Abby said. “How are you really feeling?” 

The Farmer groaned loudly, surprising her. “Abby, I came out to them.” 

Abby’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You did what?”

“I told them I was gay Abby!” The Farmer groaned again, louder. “As if my family didn’t have enough drama going on, I had to go and drop that bombshell on them.” 

“Well, hey, isn’t that great!?” Abby threw her arms around The Farmer and pulled him in for a hug. “You don’t have to hide it from them anymore. No more of the ‘When are you going to bring a nice girl home?’ questions. When did this happen?” 

The Farmer pushed her off himself, grunting about his injury. “Sometime between Alex showing up in the middle of the night and my mom insisting that she wasn’t trying to control my life.” 

Abby snorted. “Sounds like your mom and my dad got their parenting tips from the same place. But enough bagging on our parents. Let’s get inside already, I'm freezing.” 

The two retreated to the cabin and greeted with a dozing Saber on the couch. Abby immediately dropped her backpack by the door and pounced on him, showering the cat with attention and belly rubs. As Saber begrudgingly accepted the affection, The Farmer found himself staring at Abby’s bandaged hands.

“How are they?” He asked.

“Hm?” Abby followed his gaze to her hands. “Oh. They’re better. I almost have feeling in my fingertips again.” She wiggled them at him, as if to demonstrate. 

“So...do you have any idea what that was?” 

Abby dropped her hands and gave him a half frown. “I have theories, but nothing I can prove. How about you? How’s your stomach? I can’t imagine almost bleeding to death feels very nice.” 

The Farmer’s hand subconsciously drifted to where the wound had been. Harvey said it was a miracle that he’d been able to recover so quickly. He already had an appointment to take the stitches out before the week was over.

“To be honest, I don’t remember that much,” he admitted and made his way to the couch. He sat down, and a chill came over him as he recalled how cold and tired he’d felt. How ready he’d been to just give up and sleep. “My memory cuts off right after we were attacked and starts again when I woke up to my mom in the clinic. But I do get flashes sometimes where I remember being warm towards the end. Sometimes I think I even heard Alex’s voice.” 

“Have you spoken to him yet?” 

The Farmer glanced at Abby, seeing the cautious look she gave him as she settled herself onto the couch. A sigh slipped out before he responded. “No. I’ve...kinda been avoiding him. On purpose,” He added with an ashamed look.

Abby’s hand flew to her chest, a scandalized look appearing on her face. “Excuse me? Almost dying in the arms of a loved one is like, top 10 saddest anime moments material. You should be using this as your chance to get closer to him.” 

The Farmer was silent, hands folded in his lap. “You should have seen the way he looked at me Abby when he visited the next day. I... I’m not sure how to describe it. When he looked at me, it was like he was on the verge of tears. Like he’d had his heart broken. And...I cause him that pain. It was my actions that hurt him. That realization was so much worse than being cut open by some golem.” 

Saber was suddenly nudging himself into The Farmer’s lap, pushing his nose underneath The Farmer’s hands. He let the cat slip underneath them and started rubbing the back of his head. The large orange lump started purring. 

Just then, The Farmer’s phone buzzed from his pocket. He fished it out and read the notification. His heart skipped a beat.

Alex: how you doing?

“That was from Alex, wasn’t it?” 

The Farmer’s head snapped up to glare at Abby, expecting to be met with a mischievous grin. Instead, there was genuine concern behind her eyes. “How?” 

Abby offered a small smile. “You get this certain, lovelorn gaze in your eyes whenever you’re reading a text from him. It’s kinda obvious.” 

The Farmer pushed down the embarrassment that colored his cheeks and turned his attention back to his phone.

Farm Life: I’m good

Farm Life: My parents just left 

Alex: oh are you alone right now?

Alex: want me to keep you company?

“Say yes.” Abby’s voice whispered. The Farmer jumped slightly, jerking his phone away and glaring at Abby.  “I can leave if you two want some alone.” 

The Farmer’s scowl slowly turned into frown as he processed the suggestion. He looked down to his phone instead of responding and typed out a response. 

Farm Life: I’m actually going to bed now, but Abby’s here to keep an eye on me

He wasn’t sure if it was minutes or seconds before he got a reply.

Alex: sleep well

The Farmer pocketed his phone and sighed. “Not yet. I’m not ready for a broken heart.” 

Abby frowned at her friend, scooting closer so that their shoulders touched and gave him a tiny nudge. “How do you know he’s going to break it? I may not be an expert, but if Alex was that torn up about you getting torn up, I think that an offer to keep you company is a pretty clear sign that he likes you.” 

The Farmer gave Abby a disappointed look for the joke. She shrugged and smiled at him. 

The Farmer dropped his head to the back of the couch and stared at the ceiling. “I’m just not ready to face him. Whatever his feelings might be.” 

Abby hummed, then stood up and walked to her discarded backpack. She spoke while she dug through it. “You know, sometimes after a fight with my parents, I’ll spend days locked in my room just to avoid talking to them. But do you know what that did to me?” 

“It made all your problems miraculously disappear because you avoided them?” 

Abby snorted. Then returned to him with two notebooks she’d retrieved from the bag. “No, you pessimistic smartass. I built up the whole argument by going over it again and again in my head.  Eventually I would convince myself that my problem was world changing and my dad would throw me out of the house. When I confronted the issue and apologized, the problem disappeared in minutes, and all was forgiven. Even if I wasn’t the one at fault.” 

The Farmer glared at you. “Who are you and what have you done with my idiot friend?” 

Abby slapped one of the notebooks onto his head. “Come on, let me be the cool one that spouts useful advice for once.” 

The Farmer took the notebook from her. “I would, if you hadn’t stolen that line from Fruits Container.”

“I-I didn’t! It was a one-hundred percent Abigail original.” 

The Farmer smirked. “Sure Abby,” then flipped through the notebook. It was brand new with all the pages blank and crisp. The smell of new paper filled his nose, reminiscent of a freshly opened novel at the start of the school year. “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“Distract yourself. The best thing to do, so that you don’t overwhelm yourself, is entertainment.” Abby walked over and took a seat at his kitchen table, a large grin on her face. She opened her own notebook and twirled a pen in her hand. “We're going to play Solorian Chronicles. You have an hour to make your character sheet before Sam and Sebby show up.”

“He’s going to be just fine.” The Farmer’s father said, breaking the silence. They drove along the dark highway with only the occasional flash of passing streetlamps illuminating the car. His wife was currently engaging in the act of staring out the window; a boring task, as their current scenery was nothing but empty fields stretching far into the blackness of the night. Not even the soft glow of a distant town could provide any variety to the landscape.

She sighed heavily. “I worry about him.” 

“I know you do.” The Farmer’s father reached over and took one of her hands in his own. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of him, but still pulled her hand to his lips to peck it gently. “You’re fiercely protective and you pump out your love at one hundred and ten percent. That’s what makes you wonderful.” 

She exhaled sharply, a noise that was almost a sarcastic snort. “I don’t think our son appreciates that about me.” 

“He does. I just think he’s just trying to figure out how he’s supposed to show his own love right now. I hear it’s different for gay folk. He’s probably been too afraid of telling us to actually figure out what he’s comfortable with.” 

“I suppose,” she offered. Before long, a quiet settled in. It was a comfortable one, the very same you learn to accept as normal between two people who have spent so much of their lives together. She took her hand back and was ready to resume staring into the night. But there was a nagging question that The Farmer’s mother had to ask. “Don’t you think our son is a little too fond of that Alex?”

Her husband chuckled softly. “You saw it too?” 

“Saw it?” She gave a huff of offense. “My own son was ready to bite my head off whenever I so much as mentioned his name.” 

“Don’t it remind you of someone you know?” The Farmer’s father glanced at her with a half-smile and raised eyebrow. “Say, someone who refused to let their son return to the place that almost killed him?” 

She ignored her husband's look, sighing heavily. “I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping him away from someone as reckless as that boy.” 

“Alex isn’t the same child he was all those years ago,” he reminded her. “You barely got to know him. He must be something special if he’s been able to captivate our son twice.” 

The Farmer’s mother sighed once more. “If he is truly anything like me, I’d guess we’re going to have a son-in-law within the next year.” 

Her husband laughed. “I’ve always wanted someone in the family that shares my passion for sports.”

“Alrighty lads, are you ready?” Orange asked. 

“Ready boss!” Blue and Green shouted in unison. 

The three spirits had huddled together behind the community center. The full moon cast its pale light over the snow, and the spirits sat in the faint shadow of the roof. Orange waved its hand above itself, and a piece of parchment appeared in mid-air. The spirit caught it and made a sound like it was clearing its non-existent throat. “Checklist time! Hair from the one to be forgotten?” 

“Check!” Green threw its hands up, and a plastic bag with a single, chestnut brown hair in it. Scribbled on the black in poorly written black marker, were the words ‘Athlete.’ 

“A scale from the coldest fish to numb the pain?” 

“Check!” Blue summoned another bag with a large, blue-silver scale inside of it.

“The shared memory to be severed?” 

“Double check!” Green and Blue both threw up their hands, summoning a small plastic container filled with frozen strawberries. 

“And finally!” Orange threw up one hand, summoning Lewis’ purple and yellow underwear. “The shame of a weak and frail man!” 

Green and Blue both cheered and threw their items into the snow. Orange threw the lucky shorts into the pile and tossed the paper behind itself. Green and Blue started to congratulate each other, launching into tearful speeches about how painful this last month had been. Orange was ready to join in, having written its own speech weeks ago, but the flicker of a shadow caught its gaze. Just at the edge of the roof shadow on the ground, a small lump had appeared. Orange watched it curiously, then said “That’s a fat looking bird.” 

The shadow of the ‘bird’ then sprouted a tail. That was when Orange realized it’s mistake. 

Orange looked up just in time to see the shadowy outline of The Beast, silhouetted by the moon, before the feline leapt from the roof. Orange dove for the pile of items, but The Beast was faster. The cat pounced onto Blue’s body, pushing the Junimo into the snow, and sank his teeth into the waistband of the lucky shorts. He bounded several feet away before turning back to the three spirits. His yellow eyes glittered with smug satisfaction. 

Suddenly, another shadow crossed Orange’s face. The Junimo looked up to see Red, who’d launched itself off the roof as well. The spirit soared through the air, landing gracefully on The Beast’s back. Red raised both of its arms up in triumph, then blew a raspberry at its fellow spirits. The two then turned away and fled into the underbrush of the forest. 

“AFTER THEM!” Orange squealed. The spirit didn’t bother to help Green dislodge Blue from its snowy prison, choosing instead to charge after the cat and rogue Junimo. But then a newcomer’s voice stopped it. 

“What, in the name of Yoba, are you all doing?” 

Orange stopped in its tracks like a child that had been caught after breaking the front window with a baseball. Slowly, it turned around. Sitting in the windowsill directly above the pile of their materials, was White. 

Chapter Text

Year 1

Season: Winter

Date: 24

Red wasn’t sure how many days had passed since it had banished itself to this remote corner of the mountain. The Junimo stared out at the night sky, overlooking the small town below. Red believed it had picked a good spot to hide away. Behind the railroad tracks and about halfway up the mountain trails the peak, there was an animal trail that lead to the opening of a small, abandoned cave. The rock on either side of the cavern entrance was too steep to climb, meaning that all attacks would become frontal assaults. The slope leading up to the cavern entrance was devoid of any cover, no trees, bushes, or large boulders for the enemy to hide behind for at least fifty yards.

Maybe it had been weeks, possibly even years. Were The Hero and his fated one safe? Had Red’s sacrifice of self-banishment with The Mayor’s lucky shorts proven useful?

“Ha, I suppose that’s the thing.” Red put a hand to its face, laughing as it spoke to itself. “Those that make the heroic sacrifice don’t get to see the happy ending, do they? Am I right?” Red turned to the three snow sculptures it had built in the image Orange, Blue, and Green.

Snow Orange was silent.

“Dear Yoba, I’m going insane.” Red deflated and cast a longing gaze in the direction of the Community Center. It could just barely make out the dilapidated shingles of the building nestled in the bottom of the valley. Red missed them, its family, but just thinking about what Orange and the others were trying to accomplish behind Red’s back filled the Junimo with anger.

Red scoffed to itself, turning its back to the valley. “I don’t need them. I’m sure if The Hero has just a little more time, everything will sort itself out.”

“Red, is that you?”

The little Junimo screamed in terror, bouncing madly towards the cavern entrance to hide behind Snow Orange. “Stay back, I know Junimo Fu!”

“Red, it is you! Thank goodness!”

Red peeked out from its cover, recognizing the voice and melting away its initial terror. Coming up over the crest of the hill was White. The elder spirit waddled through the snow toward, leaving a small bath behind itself. It was waving up at Red, swinging its twig of a walking stick in a greeting.

“White!” Red waddled over, meeting the elder Junimo at the lip of the cavern’s mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” White exclaimed, taking exaggerated and labors breaths. “I could ask the same of you! You’ve been missing for almost three whole days. Everyone has been worried sick about the lot of you.”

“Three days?” Red mused. “Could have sworn it was longer than that. Wait, what do you mean about the lot of us?”

“Are they not with you?” White looked beyond Red at the snow sculptures of Orange, Green and Blue. “I heard you were kidnapped by The Beast! We feared the worst had happened.”

“No, I’m alone, but White you have to listen to me.” Red clasped both sides of White’s face. “What Orange and the others are trying to do-“

“ATTACK!!!”

The cry ripped across the sky, interrupting Red and sending birds flying from the nearby trees. Red jumped in front of White, both of its tiny little fists raised as it squared up against whatever was coming. “Stay behind me!” Red shouted.

“What’s happening?” White’s voice coming out in a panicked pitch.

Before Red could explain, a hoard of woodland creatures burst forth from the forests edge at the bottom of the hill. Squirrel, rabbits, and even deer charged up the slope neck-in-neck with each other like trained cavalry horses. Leading the charge, were Blue and Green, riding on the back of an obese grizzly bear. They were hanging a jar of honey on a stick and string in front of the bears face, pointing the stick uphill as the bear desperately chased it.

“So it’s come to this!” Red’s voice boomed across the snow. “But it’s already over, for I have the high ground!”

Red leap from the mouth of the cave and landed in the snow, both arms shooting into the powder. A moment later, Red hoisted two thick ropes out from hiding and pulled hard. Rows of metal contraptions, with windmill like arms made from spoons, sprang up from the snow. Red reached down and ripped another cord out of the snow. The gears within the contraptions whirled to life, and the windmills spun with ferocity, scooping snow off the ground and flinging them at the oncoming wildlife.

Several deer took direct hits, tripping over themselves and crashing into their nearby comrades. The squirrels that started taking evasive actions had confused themselves and were now running in circles to avoid the onslaught of snowballs. Meanwhile, the rabbits were already gone, having fled the moment the snowball machines sprung up. Now, only Blue and Green’s bear remained. Their war cries echoed across the mountain as their mount charged up the hillside.

As Red reached into the snow once more, to pull out its trump card, when a shadow fell over Red’s face. The Junimo looked up, just in time to see a set of razor-sharp talons. It dodged aside at the last moment, and arrogant laughter filled the air. Red saw the outline of a hawk flying away, but plummeting through the air, was an all too familiarly shaped cube.

“SURPRISE ATTACK!” Orange screamed as it dropped out of the sky.

Orange however, announced itself far too early.  Red was able to take a single step backwards to safely watch Orange’s impact against the ground.  Orange, stunned, did not move, so Red took advantage of that fact and waddled up to the spirit.  Green and Blue were still at least thirty yards away, so Red gave Orange a gentle push down the slope. The spirit rolled head over heels, slowly picking up snow as it did until a giant snowball quickly built up around its body. Green and Blue’s war cry became a scream of terror as Orange’s snowball collided with the bear. Junimos and Bear exploded in a cloud of white snow, flying comically across the air. 

Red ran back up to the cave where it had left White. The elder spirit was speechless, watching the trio of Junimo as they tried to regain their bearings. “What in Yoba’s name is happening?”

“There’s no time to explain.” Red said, glancing back down the slope. The bear was on its paws again, but it was now mourning the broken jar and spilled honey that was seeping into the snow. Orange, Blue, and Green were inching away, but Green stepped on a twig, drawing the bear’s attention.

Red threw up its hands and summoned The Mayor’s lucky shorts, ignoring the screaming trio and angry bear’s roars. Red threw the shorts at White. “Please White, you have to take these and go as far away as possible.”

White caught the shorts by the end of its walking stick, giving a curious look between them and Red. “Why do you have these?”

Red groaned, knowing that White wouldn’t walk away without an explanation. After a quick glance down to confirm that the bear was still attacking the others, Red explained. “It’s the last ingredient that they need in order to complete the spell. They’re trying to wipe away The Athletes memories of The Hero, so that The Hero will focus solely on getting the things we need. I’m trying to stop them. If you take them and manage to sneak away, they’ll waste their time trying to get to me.”

“I see,” White said. “Why do you think that this is the correct course of action?”

Red felt a chill run down its back. If it had hair on the back of its neck, or a neck for that matter, they would be standing up right now. Red spun towards White. The elder spirit looked as calm as can be, waving its stick in the air and making the shorts disappear. “Elder…what was your magic again?”

White said nothing as it held Red’s gaze.

“Gotcha!” Three pairs of arms grabbed Red, pinning the spirit to the ground before Red could even react. Blue and Green had appeared on either side of it, and Orange sat triumphantly on Red’s back, laughing loudly. The sounds of the bear suddenly cut off, and Red was suddenly able to recall White’s magic: illusions.

“W-What’s going on?” Red demanded.

White hobbled over to Red, stopping before the Junimo. It jammed its walking stick strongly into the ground, striking a mini power pose. “I’ll tell you what’s going on. Orange and the others informed me of their plan, and I agree with them. Over the course of the entire year, The Hero has only completed one of the lists we’ve given him. He’s devoted far too much time to The Athlete, and nothing has even come of that.”

 “He’s fine!” Red protested, struggling to break free from the hold of the other spirits.  “If we revert The Athlete’s memories, it’s just going to cause The Hero pain! We need to-”

White slammed its stick into the snow, knocking the white fluff into the air. “We’ve listened to you for long enough! Every time the sunrises, each and every Junimo can feels its strength fading. How long before we start to fade away?”

“You’re making a mistake!” Red yelled.

“We will do what we need.” White said sternly. “Humans have always put themselves first, why can’t the Junimo do the same? Reaching out first and waiting for goodwill is not a luxury we can afford. Not when survival is on the line. We can always assist him with finding a partner, after our safety is assured.”

Red was about to respond, but the words froze when it saw that White’s hand became semi-transparent for a few seconds. The walking stick that it clutched fell to the snow. Orange and the others were also silent, adverting their gaze as White stared at its hand. A few moments later, White’s hand solidified.

“Bring Red,” The elder spirit said, reaching down and picking up the stick. “We need to make ensure there’s no interference in the coming days.”

Year 1

Season: Winter

Date: 25

"What's he doing?" Emily asked.

"He's pacing," Haley said without looking up from her phone.

“I am not pacing,” Alex snapped, and then stopped his pacing. He was in the middle of burning a rut into the brickwork that made up the town square. Walking around the area had served as his only distraction from the fact that his guts felt like they’d been run through a blender’s puree function. Now that Haley had pointed it out though, the pacing would only make him feel even more self-conscious.

Both Pelican Town and its residents were dolled up for the holiday. A giant evergreen tree was erected at the northern end of the square. It had been decorated in an unrestrained and gratuitous combination of handmade and store-bought ornaments, procured over the years from the townsfolk. Lewis had started the tradition decades ago, insisting that everybody in town contribute one decoration every year. Lewis would then keep the decorations, ask for another round of donations the next year, and then put them all on the tree. When it came time for Alex to donate his first ornament, the tree had already crossed the line from festive to gaudy. Now, all these years later, you could hardly see the actual tree under all the colorful plastic. Add in the fact that the whole thing was decked out in miles worth of string lights and tinsel, Alex was sure that Pelican Town’s tree could be seen from space.

The snow around the square had been shoveled away, and the large fold-up tables were pulled from Lewis’ storage shed and covered in red and green tablecloths. Heat lamps were set up around the perimeter, and most of the villagers gathered around them, cheerfully exchanging greetings and stories from the year with one another. Lewis had even set up a contraption called a record player and was using it to play festive wintertime music throughout the square. High above, there were strands of lights that stretched out across the plaza and covered everyone in a cheerful and multi-colored glow.

Since he could no longer pace, he sat next to Haley and forced his hands into his pockets. He glared at the gift on the table in front of him, wrapped in bright blue and white paper. ‘Why does giving a gift have to be so damn hard?’ Alex thought to himself.

In all honestly, he was simply frustrated with how flustered he felt. Alex felt the farthest thing from festive when he woke up that morning. He’d spent far too long in front of the bathroom mirror this morning, double and triple checking his appearance every five seconds. He spent at least fifteen minutes just debating the direction of which to comb his hair. He’d also forgone his signature letterman jacket for his slightly nicer tan and brown leather jacket. He normally wore it when his grandma brought him along to anything that was meant to be semi-formal.

Alex sighed heavily and then dropped his head to the table. Haley said nothing, but did reach out and give him a quick pat on the back before returning her attention to whatever she was reading on her phone. 

After staying like that for a few minutes, a familiar commotion reached Alex’s ears, and he rolled his head to the side to look at the group seated a few tables down. Abby and Sam were roaring with laughter at something Sebastian had said, who was looking very smug with himself.

That was when Alex’s mind began the unfortunate course of action known as overthinking. He knew The Farmer was close with the trio, and that caused a small seed of jealousy to sprout in his mind. He knew The Farmer and Abby trained together and made excursions into the mines, but he wasn’t sure what the man’s relationship with Sam and Sebastian was. His friendship with them seemed to pop out of nowhere. He recalled being surprised after finding the trio and The Farmer drunk after a night out at the Saloon. Since then, The Farmer appeared to be as close with them as Alex was with Haley.

He sat up, looking straight ahead. “Do you think The Farmer is into pretty-boy emos?”

Haley paused her scrolling, put the phone down, and turned to Alex with the biggest look of confusion on her face. Eyebrows raised to incredulous new heights and mouth hanging open, she asked, “Excuse me?”

Alex put his elbows on the table and locked his fingers together. He looked like one of those cartoon villains, missing only a pair of highly reflective glasses and white gloves. His glare was so sharp it could be lethal. “Sebastian is an emo, right? He’s handsome, and he’s got that angsty aloof thing going for him. Do you think I’ve got a chance against that?”

Haley took a moment to stare at Alex before she closed her eyes, leaned back into her chair, and pinched the bridge of her nose. She inhaled deeply, muttered a prayer to Yoba under her breath, and then placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Alex, sweetheart. I need you to come back to reality with us and check yourself. Jealousy is not a good color on you.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Emily chimed in from her chair across the table from her sister. She’d been busying herself by decorating a mini snowman she’d built on the table, adorning it with twigs. “All this is nothing more than a few bumps on the road of your life.”

Alex sighed, once ahead dropping head to the table. He folded his hands over the back of his head. “Is it a good sign that this is the least cryptic thing she’s said to me all month?” He muttered.

“Why don’t you just go talk to them?” Emily offered.

“He’s a man,” Haley snorted. “Men don’t talk about their feelings.”

Alex ignored them both. Instead, he wished for the holiday-themed tablecloth to gain sentience and put him out of his misery. The star sewn into the fabic however, offered no such sympathy, and Alex was forced to admit that Haley was probably right. Again.

He should just go up and talk to them. They spent time with The Farmer these days, and it looked so natural to them. Lately, all Alex had done was stare at his messaging app without typing anything out. If he spent time with the trio, then it was logical to assume that he could spend more time with The Farmer. He was tempted, but he was also held back by the fact that the only common ground they shared was The Farmer. His conversation with Abby a few weeks hadn’t been that successful, only serving to reinforce the fact that without The Farmer, they wouldn’t have an excuse to even talk to each other. Without any else to connect over, he feared that any conversation between them would lead to his eventual and accidental confession. If their reputation was anything to go by, he knew that not a single one of them could be trusted to keep a secret.

“Oh, there he is,” Emily said happily.

Alex shot up, instantly spotting The Farmer at the far side of the plaza. He stepped out from underneath the garland arches that framed the path, and the air itself twinkled around him. He’d forgone his usual, dirt-stained plaid shirt and jeans outfit for a pair of khakis and a thick, wooly red sweater covered in white snowflakes. He must have felt Alex’s gaze, because he turned to him and smiled when their eyes met.

Alex’s heart stopped, and he could only form a single thought. ‘I am so fucked.’

“Your hair’s a mess.” The Farmer’s mother said. Her high-pitched and nagging voice got to Alex before he saw her. She stepped into view next to her son, hastily combing his hair to the side with her fingers. Her husband stepped into the plaza next to their son. All three wore matching sweaters, but in different colors.

Alex felt his heart sink as he slid back into the chair. If they were here too, then that meant getting a moment alone with The Farmer was going to be harder than he initially thought.

“Don’t,” Haley said.  Her voice came out in a warning tone.

“Don’t what?”

“You have that look on your face that says you’re overthinking things again. Just stick to your original plan. Do not come up with some last minute and elaborate plan. You are simply going to give him his gift and ask if you can talk to him privately later.”

Alex put his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

At the other side of the plaza, Alex watched as The Farmer and his parents were greeted by Lewis and quickly herded towards the tree. Watching The Farmer became therapeutic, and Alex’s previous jitters started to slip away. The Farmer, dressed up and standing before the tree, looked like a drawing out of a children’s holiday picture book. He looked radiant, with his cheeks red and rosy. His hair, despite his mother’s fussing, was adorably messy, and Alex’s mind started daydreaming about what it might be like to wake up and discover what The Farmer’s bed head looked like. What would it be like to watch The Farmer slowly pull himself from sleep?

As if somehow reading his mind, The Farmer looked over to him again. He smiled, and Alex lost his breath. He felt his face flush and prayed that The Farmer wasn’t suddenly a mind reader. Alex was pretty sure the other man had never mentioned that being an esper was a tool on the homesteaders' belt. He forced himself to smile back as normal as possible. Then The Farmer started to approach their table, and panic once against seized Alex’s insides.

He stood up too quickly, knocking his chair backwards. He scrambled to set it back upright before turning to face The Farmer. In the ten or so seconds that it took The Farmer to reach Alex, Alex had shifted through dozens of differing stances in a desperate attempt to look normal.

Thankfully, Haley also stood up and jabbed him in the back with her elbow. “Just be yourself,” she hissed. Then, louder so that The Farmer could hear, said to her sister, “Emily, let’s go get some punch.”

Emily, who was very intently beaming at The Farmer approaching Alex, pouted at her sister. “But Haley, we’re about to witness-”

“Me, getting cranky because I’m thirsty.” Haley grabbed her sister’s arm and yanked her up and out of her chair.

Alex made eye contact with Haley as she pulled her sister away and mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to her. She rolled her eyes in response and turned her attention away just as Emily flashed Alex a subdued double thumbs-up.

Alex was thankful that at least Haley could read his moods and knew what he wanted. It would make everything easier if he didn’t have to worry about being self-conscious in front of anyone else now. It was funny, no matter how stupid he felt in front of The Farmer, Alex simultaneously felt at ease.

The Farmer paused just at the edge of Alex’s personal space, beaming at him with a genuine smile. “Hey.”

That was all he said. One word and Alex felt his worries melt away. It took all of Alex’s willpower not to just grab the other man and become a pile of relaxed mush in his arms.

“H-hey.” Alex stuttered, cursing himself and hating that he was still nervous. “You look good. I mean, you know, considering everything that’s happened.”

“You’ve got that right,” The Farmer’s mother huffed.

Alex’s attention snapped to her. He hadn’t even noticed her approaching behind her son. She cast a slightly disapproving glance at The Farmer, then turned it onto Alex so he could say hello to his anxiety again. There were daggers in her eyes at first, sharp enough that Alex almost flinched away out of fear of being cut. However, they only remained for a moment before her gaze softened and she sighed. “This troublemaker just finished telling us about a particular incident of you two getting caught outside in that hurricane a few months back. I believe that my thanks are long overdue. Not just for finding him but helping on his farm afterwards.”

“Oh yeah, it was no trouble at all!” Alex said quickly. “I actually enjoyed it. I love spending time with your son, I mean-!” Alex felt his face flush and quickly exchanged a look with The Farmer, but he didn’t look long enough to read The Farmer’s reaction. Alex’s tongue  felt swollen in his mouth and he forced himself to laugh loudly to avoid stammering over his words. “I mean, I loved working on out the farm! It was fun and I worked out all sorts of muscles I didn’t even know I had.”

Alex continued to laugh loudly, feeling a part of his soul dying as The Farmer’s mother gave him a quick once over. He suddenly felt like a product undergoing quality control, where The Farmer’s mother held his fate in her hands. He was moments away getting that passing grade, or thrown into the discard pile.

“Come now dear, let’s get a move on.” The Farmer’s father hooked his arm through his wife’s and steered her away. “There are lots of people in Pelican Town we still must give a proper greeting to! Plus, we still have to give George and Evelyn their thank-you gift for cooking us breakfast last time we visited.”

The Farmer’s mother opened her mouth to protest for a moment, but there was a pause in her expression. She looked back to observe The Farmer and Alex for a few seconds, then closed her mouth and turned away, allowing her husband to lead them out.

“Sorry,” The Farmer said, rubbing the back of his head with an apologetic look. “Part of my catching up with my parents has been me just kind of confessing to everything I’ve kept hidden from them this last year. My mom feels the need to be extra overprotective to compensate.”

“That’s okay.” Alex said, looking back to The Farmer.  He felt himself relax again and took the moment to muster his courage. “I’m kind of glad that we get a moment alone. I actually have a gift to give you.”

“Gift?” The Farmer asked. “But we’re not supposed to exchange gifts until Lewis says so.”

Alex picked up the package from the table behind himself and presented it to The Farmer. “That’s only for the secret gift exchange. I ah…,” Alex had to advert his gaze. He felt himself losing his own train of thought the longer he looked into the other man’s eyes. He forced himself to swallow the frog in his throat and continued. “I, ah, this isn’t for that. I just got you a gift because, well, I wanted to.”

The Farmer looked at Alex for a moment too long, and Alex prayed that a public gift exchange wasn’t too forward. When The Farmer reached out and tentatively took the box from Alex, their fingers brushed against each other. Alex felt the electricity shoot through him and he prayed that he wasn’t imagining the blush on The Farmer’s face.

“Th-Thanks’, Alex.” The Farmer sounded breathless, looking down to intently take in the colorfully wrapped package. “Oh, I didn’t get you anything! I’m sorry, I wasn’t ex-”

“It’s okay!” Alex put his hands up to stop The Farmer.  “You don’t have to get me anything. This festival is about being thankful and I…I’m really thankful that we know each other. I felt that maybe I should get you something to commemorate it, you know? You can open it, now, if you want.”

The Farmer didn’t say anything, but nodded. He put the box gently on the table and started pulling apart the wrapping paper. Alex stood behind him slightly, his palms suddenly clammy. As he watched The Farmer open his gift, Alex fought to still his over-excited heart. Every second that passed was a second spent doubting himself. Was it too much or was it not enough? The question swirled around in his head for what felt like years. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that Alex didn’t realize that The Farmer had already finished with the unwrapping.

Silence hung in the air as The Farmer took in his gift. Alex took a tentative step forward, trying to gauge any semblance of a reaction on his face. He glanced down at the gift first, worrying now that it was too much. He had gotten The Farmer a collage of connected picture frames. It wasn’t anything too crazy. Each frame was offset slightly from its adjacent partner, and they were arranged in the general shape of a large rectangle.

Alex took another step forward, finally catching a glimpse of The Farmer’s face. The other man wore a look of genuine surprise, but whether it was a good surprise or not, Alex couldn’t tell. He glanced down at the pictures as well, recalling where he’d gotten them from. The picture at the very top right corner was one taken by Penny, of the first donation The Farmer had ever given to Gunther. Below that was a selfie of Abby in the Saloon. She and Sebastian smiled at the camera while The Farmer and Sam were wrapped up in a game of pool in the background. Next to that was a picture of Marnie and The Farmer on either side of the first cow he’d ever bought from her.

While many of the photos were ones that Alex had tracked down, he couldn’t help the twinge of embarrassment he felt looking over some of the centermost pictures of the collage. Most of them were of himself and The Farmer. Haley had taken many of them last summer. There was one where the two of them lounged under an umbrella at the beach, and another one was of the two of them sitting on the front porch of The Farmer’s cabin. The collage was filled with all sorts of memories of The Farmer’s first year in Pelican Town. The centermost frame however, was empty.

“That’s for your grandfather’s picture,” Alex felt the words suddenly jump off his tongue. He suddenly felt overtaken by his nerves now that the gift was in The Farmer’s hands. A cold chill had washed over him, as he realized he’d basically just handed over proof that he’d stalked The Farmer’s life for the past year all over town. “I ah, I found his picture after the Spirits Eve festival, when I was changing clothes. I thought it might be nice to have a frame for it, to preserve it. And, well, I thought why not throw in all these other great pictures while I was-“

Alex cut himself off for, at that moment, he saw the tears running down The Farmer’s face. Panic bubbled up inside Alex, knocking out his logic and reason. “Shit, shit, I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is, it’s a terrible gift, isn’t it?”

Alex reached out, but when his fingers were inches from the frame, The Farmer threw himself at Alex. The man froze, hands awkwardly held midair as he processed what was happening.

The Farmer had thrown his arms around him. The man gripped Alex’s waist tightly, burying his face deeply into the fabric of Alex’s jacket.

“I love it.” The Farmer said. His muffled voice choked by his tears. “Oh Yoba, I love it so much. Thank you, Alex.”

Alex couldn’t tell if his heart was beating dangerously fast or had stopped altogether.  The Farmer’s warmth had begun to seep into Alex, and he felt close to tears himself. He returned the hug, carefully wrapping his arms around the other man. Alex selfishly leaned into The Farmer as much as he could, burying his face in The Farmer’s hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, fighting back his own tears. He prayed to Yoba that The Farmer would never leave his embrace. This. This was all he wanted.

Memories then flooded his brain, like an engorged river breaking free of its banks.  It raced through him, becoming a muddy mess as it swept up childhood memories, his dreams, and everything from this last year. He tried to hold it back, hold it in, but The Farmer just tore him down, simply by being here. Alex realized with sobering clarity that he had been avoiding this moment, denying himself from The Farmer for this exact reason. He wanted to spill everything then and there. He wanted to tell The Farmer everything, because that’s what the damn man did to him. He made Alex feel both unsteady, yet safe. He could tell The Farmer anything, and that revelation ravaged his sanity with tornadic force, because it meant he didn’t know what he was going to say.

“I was so scared I lost you.” The words left Alex’s mouth in a choked sob, barely above a whisper. “This last year has meant so much to me because of you. When I found you in the mines I…I was so scared that you…”

He trailed off, unable to speak that horrible possibility into existence.

The Farmer said nothing, but Alex felt the other man tighten the embrace. Nothing more was said. Alex felt drained, like a stopped sink whose plug had just been pulled. He felt like such an idiot. Today was supposed to be a day where people stuffed themselves, exchanged gifts and enjoyed each other’s company. Haley was right. He was a coward. If only he’d not chickened out last week and actually spoke to The Farmer, maybe then he wouldn’t be ruining the holiday and they would have been able to enjoy themselves today.

Then, The Farmer spoke. “I’m sorry too Alex,” he said softly. “I-”

The loud banging of mallet on cowbell filled the air, cutting The Farmer off.  The Farmer pulled away, much to Alex’s dismay, and they both saw Lewis sounding it. He stood at the other end of the plaza, bell and mallet high overhead as he played away, drawing everyone’s attention. With a mortifying realization, Alex noticed that The Farmer’s mother had been watching them. When Alex met her gaze, she quickly turned her attention to Lewis before he could read her expression. How much had she seen? His pulse quickened at the thought.

“Hey Alex,” The Farmer’s voice brought his attention back, and Alex realized he was still awkwardly holding the other man’s shoulders. Alex dropped his hands quickly, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. The Farmer’s face was also flushed crimson, and Alex dared to hope that as a good sign.  They didn’t meet eyes though, which put Alex’s stomach through some slight turbulence. 

“My parents will be around until tomorrow afternoon.” The Farmer continued. “They want to spend some time with me and get the chance to meet everyone else in town properly. But…” He paused, finally looking up to meet Alex’s eyes. This time, the rest of the world faded to silence, and Alex knew his heart had stopped. “Could we meet up and talk tomorrow?”

Alex’s brain blue screened.  Countless possibilities populated it, popping up endlessly as if a virus had infected him. He felt as if duct tape and rubber bands had been holding him together for weeks, and now that fragile system was snapping and unraveling. Despite that, he still felt lighter than he had in weeks.

Alex managed a nod, and barely registered that The Farmer said he’d text Alex when he was free later. Alex watched him rejoin his parents who were currently introducing themselves to Robin and Demetrius. As his brain rebooted itself, Alex’s eyes didn’t leave The Farmer. He watched the other man and gave a slight sigh as a smile tugged at his lips. Why had he been so worried in the first place? This was The Farmer after all.

“So,” Haley appeared at his side, her sister noticeably absent. “How did it go?”

“I think…I think it went well.” Alex didn’t look away from The Farmer. The other man must have felt Alex’s gaze on him, because he suddenly turned back. When their eyes met, they both smiled.

Alex felt Haley’s eyes on him and turned to find her wearing a small smirk. “What?”

“Nothing.” Haley said. “Now come on; let's go find out who our secret gift givers were.”

“You’re all making a mistake!” Red’s cries filled the air as the Junimo violently shook the metal bars of its cage. “Please, you have to listen to me!”

The little spirits' cries fell upon deaf ears. Every Junimo from the valley had gathered, even ones that Red hadn’t seen in years. After White’s betrayal, Red was thrown into one of those small boxes that humans used to catch rodents without killing them. Orange and the others had apparently stolen it from JojaMart and then strapped the cage to the back of a tamed raccoon. The raccoon marched in step with the Junimo through the swamp, headed for the Witch’s Hut.

The Junimos voices filled the air within an incomprehensible chant; each spirit simply recited whatever they thought was appropriate. Red could hear a small chorus of Junimos singing ‘Cotton Eye Moe’ all at different tempos. Another Junimo nearby was just screaming ‘Ooga-Chaka, Ooga-Ooga’ repeatedly and at the top of their lungs. Clearly, a two-page memo had been sent around and only the first sentence had been read. 

The colorful, singing conga line of Junimos stretched as far as Red could see, almost comically so. Just within its immediate vicinity Red saw Turquoise and Aquamarine. They appeared to have set aside their decade-long feud for this event. Gray and Grey were also here, having stopped fighting over Blood Orange. All three spirits held hands as they walked like they were in a polyamorous relationship. Scarlet and Violet even showed up, despite previous claiming they wouldn’t return from overseas for at least another month.

“You’ll thank us later when we don’t disappear.” Orange said, jumping onto the raccoon’s back from wherever it had been hiding among the crowd. “I’m doing this for all of us.”

Red rushed to the back of its cage, getting as close to Orange as it could. “No, you don’t understand. We don’t understand! I can’t believe I’m saying this, but The Wizard was right.”

Some of the nearby Junimo broke off from their chanting with horrified gasps and screaming.

“No, listen!” Red continued, turning to face the crowd that surrounded it. “We don’t know enough about human relationships to meddle with them. If we mess with this one, it’s going set us back so far that we all risk disappearing!”

“WHAT IS WITH ALL THIS RACKET!?” A shrill voice erupted over the chanting, followed by the distinct sound of a door having been kicked open.

Red looked up and realized that the front of the Junimo conga line had reached the hut. They circled the home, quickly covering any and all bits of earth that hadn’t sunken into the swamp. Red’s raccoon was still a good twenty yards from the front door.

The Witch stood in her open doorway. The door itself had been broken off its hinges. A few of the unfortunate Junimo who’d been too close were still struggling to pull themselves free. The Witch was wearing a moth-eaten, raggedy, purple nightgown that once said ‘I’m a Magical Bitch’ in white lettering. However, the lettering on the word ‘Magical’ was faded to the point of being illegible.

The Witch took a step onto her broken down door, her gnarled hands clenched tightly together into fists. The cries of a few unlucky spirits still trapped under the door could be heard as she marched further onto it. She planted her feet near its top, with wide and angry eyes scanning the gathered spirits. “What are you doing in my swamp!?”

The Junimos, being the calm and collected sort of spirits that they were, chose the sensible course of action. Terror-filled screaming erupted, and the mass of bodies swarmed across the swamp in a panic-fueled madness.

Red was bounced around the cage as the raccoon fled up the nearest tree to escape the freighted spirits.

“Dammit all!” The Witch yelled over the chaos. “I thought when I divorced that cheating oaf that I’d be done with your kind! Begone!” She snapped her finger, and suddenly several small explosions went off. Junimo were thrown into the air, adding to the chaos.

The Witch cursed loudly, snapping her fingers some more. Jets of fire and then water shot out of the ground, one of the Junimo was supersized, and some of the nearby trees ripped up their roots and started to do the Can-Can. “Curse this plot convenience magic he came up with! Why is it the only thing that works on you vermin?”

She snapped her fingers again, and this time a very large but familiar looking, obese brown bear appeared in the air above The Witch. In very cartoonish fashion, the bear had enough time to blink twice, look down and up, before plummeting back to earth. The Witch screamed, covering her head and snapping her fingers again. The Bear disappeared and reappeared in front of the hut. This time he wore a tiny black bowler hat and was in the process of juggling bowling pins while riding a unicycle.

“Yoba be damned!” The Witch cursed again. “This stupid ‘Plot Convenience’ magic has always been a headache. Just give me what I want already!” She snapped her fingers repeatedly. This time winged and green serpents filled the air. Two shadowy men appeared mid-brawl, grappling and punching; one wore a suit with a red bowtie and the other wore glasses with a shirt that said, ‘Wednesdays are me time.’ Straw behemoths shaped like various farm animals appeared. The behemoths immediately started screaming, filled with the terror of existence.

Then, with the next snap of her fingers, the current inhabitants of the swamp rearranged themselves. The two brawling men now stood hand-in-hand before a shadow that resembled The Mayor. The bear, the witch, and several of the flying serpents flanked them. All were comically stuffed into formal wear either too large or too small for them. The ensemble stood below a banner that read “Stardew Valley Fair!” written in what one could only hope was red paint.

Shadow Mayor threw his hands up, “I now pronounce you, Enemies-to-Lovers!”

The shadow in the red bowtie tipped his partner, and the two shared a deep and passionate kiss. Cheers erupted from all in Junimos as they pelted the couple with rice. The straw behemoths opened their mouths and fireworks shot into the sky.

The Witch clapped alongside them for a moment. Then she blinked and the realization dawned on her face. “Enough!” she screamed, throwing down the bouquet of dead roses she held and snapping her fingers again.

This time, in a giant puff of smoke, the wedding vanished. The Witch coughed loudly, waving one hand through the air to dispel the smoke. The door to her hut had been repaired and almost all the Junimo had disappeared. To Red’s dismay, it was still trapped in the cage upon the raccoon’s back. The raccoon itself sat on its haunches behind White, Orange, Blue, and Green. They were lined up before The Witch, who looked at them with disgust.

“Finally,” The Witch sneered, and waved her hand through the air. “Now, we can finally get on to business.” Junimo and raccoon all rose into the air, having been trapped in a giant green bubble. The Witch marched over to them and her left eye twitched as she leaned in. “So, which one of you is going to tell me what’s going on?”

“You dastardly fiend!” Green shouted. “What have you done with our brethren?”

The Witch huffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t worry. Your kind is immune to my magic. I can’t kill you and believe me I’ve tried.”

“You’ve what?” Orange asked.

“Look, all I did was ‘poof’ the rest of you annoying insects somewhere else in the valley. It’s the best I could do. According to my ex, you all have something called, ‘Plot Armor.’” The Witch made air quotes, and mockingly said the words in The Wizard’s voice. She waved her hand again, and Red’s cage detached from the back of the raccoon. The small animal suddenly flew out of the bubble and into The Witch’s hand. The raccoon froze with fear, not moving an inch as The Witch turned one beady eye on it. “Now, seeing as you all brought me breakfast, I suppose I can at least hear you out.”

“Oh, mighty witch,” White yelled, throwing it hands up and bowing to her, “We have brought the ingredients you have asked for.” Orange, Blue, and Green mimicked his actions.

“I asked for what now?”

White threw up a hand, and The Mayor’s lucky shorts, a strand of hair, strawberries, and a silver fish scale all appeared in the bubble with them. “Please, erase the memories of The Hero from The Athlete.”

The Witch narrowed her eyes, the gears turning in her head as she processed what the Junimo said. She scratched herself, and then suddenly snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, I did say I would do that, didn’t I? Well fine, come in, come in.” She turned back into her hut, and with a wave of her hand, the green bubble and all trapped within followed.

Once inside, The Witch gave another wave of her hand, and several objects began floating about the room. The raccoon joined several other woodland creatures that were locked up in metal cages near what Red assumed was the kitchen but could only be described as a natural disaster. The ingredients White produced split off from the Junimo. They hovered towards to a giant black cauldron in the middle of the room that hung from black iron chains attached to the ceiling. The window nearby was thrown open and firewood flew into the hut and arranged itself below the cauldron. Once arranged into a large pile, the wood spontaneously combusted into a roaring green flame.

Red’s cage settled itself upon a cobweb-infested windowsill, and then magically expanded itself. The door swung open, but before Red could escape, White, Orange, Blue, and Green were thrown unceremoniously inside with the door slamming shut behind them.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Blue yelled.

“I’m being held upon false charges!” Green shouted, throwing itself against the cage’s bars. “I plead the Fifth!”

“Shut it!” The Witch snapped. “You want me to do this spell, then I’ve got to do it with absolutely no distractions. Unless you’d rather blow us all to kingdom come.”

Blue and Green froze, silently slinking away from the edge of the cage.

The Witch grumbled under her breath, and then waved her hand once more. An old tube television appeared in front of her, black and white static filling it’s screen. She banged the side of it several times before an image of a man and a woman standing in Pelican Town’s town square finally populated.

They bore a striking resemblance to The Hero. The Woman leaned towards The Man and whispered, “Did that man just gift our son rocks?”

The Witch struck the box once more, and this time, The Hero and The Blacksmith appeared. The Hero was peering down into the cardboard box with a forced smile. “Gee, thanks so much for the geodes, Clint,” he said. “I guess I’ll come by later to pay you to open them up.”

“Ah, you’re welcome.” The Blacksmith beamed, rubbing the back of his head bashfully and blushing. “It took me a long time to think up a good gift for you. It’s like a surprise, within a surprise, get it? Not even I know what you got!”

The Witch snorted as she watched. “Well, this relationship is sinking faster than my ex when I threw him off that cruise ship on our honeymoon. I can see why you want me to erase their memories.”

“No, no, not that one!” White called out. “The Athlete. We need The Athlete to forget about The Hero so he will leave The Hero alone.”

“No, we don’t need him to forget about anyone!” Red protested.

The Witch waved her hand, and both White and Red found they lost the ability to speak. She hit the rectangle again, and The Athlete suddenly came into view. “Oh right, this one. I remember now, he was far too muscular for my taste. My men need a bit of stuffing, so they taste better when I have them for dinner.”

She cackled loudly at her own joke, her high-pitched squeals echoing across the swamp.

Orange, Blue, and Green all joined with quiet, forced laughter.

When she was done, she wiped a tear from her eye and tossed it into the cauldron. It sizzled on the iron. Instead of evaporating, it foamed up. Soon, a bubbling green liquid began to fill the vessel. Within seconds, the liquid had reached the brim and roared to a boil.

The Witch raised both her hands high into the air, straightening her back and puffing her chest forward. The four ingredients hovered before her, barely a foot above the cauldron. She closed her eyes and started to mumble under her breath a string of words that were incomprehensible to the Junimo. A soft rumbling began to disturb the air, like a distant thunder was now approaching. The Witch’s mumbling grew louder and small objects around the hut—empty jars, take-out boxes, and a pile of shojo manga—all floated into the air. Orange yelped as it and the other spirits in the cage started to levitate.

The Witch’s eyes snapped open; eyes glowing white as she began to shriek the unfamiliar words. A whirlwind ripped through the hut, sending more objects and even some of The Witch’s furniture into the air. The Junimo screamed and hugged one another as their cage was thrown into the chaos, feud forgotten.

Arms raised straight to the heavens, The Witch’s booming voice filled the air, and then she dropped her hands to her side. Everything was thrown back into place as if nothing had happened, and The Witch’s eyes returned to normal with a crack of her neck. “Okay, it’s done.”

“Wait, already?” Orange asked.

“NOOOOOOOO!” Red screamed, breaking down into sobs as it reached for the cauldron through the bars of the cage. “How could you? They were so close to getting together!”

“What gives? You didn’t even use the stuff we brought,” Green gestured up at the ingredients still floating above The Witch.

“It’s done for now.” The Witch clarified. “What, you think magic happens in an instant? The pot needs to simmer overnight, and then we throw in the ingredients.” She yawned and stretched before turning away from the pot and walking toward her bedroom door. “If any one of you tries to wake me up before then, I will purée you in my blender. Plot armor be damned.”

“So,” Abby dropped herself into the chair next to The Farmer. “Are you going to tell me what that thing with Alex was about, or am I going to have to blackmail you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The Farmer was unable to help the quick glance he made towards Alex. The man was on the other side of the plaza near the tree with both his grandparents and The Farmer’s parents. George and The Farmer’s father appeared to be having a very engaging and humorous discussion, as their occasional laughter carried well over the whole village. Evelyn and The Farmer’s mother appeared to be locked in a staring contest as their husbands chatted away. Both woman watched each other with a cool but polite expression, their husbands oblivious to whatever storm was brewing.

“Bro, something happened, and I gotta know.” Abby insisted. “I’ve got money riding on it.”

“You did not just bro me.”

“I totally just did. Now, no matter what actually happened, I need you to tell Sam and Seb that you two just confessed your undying love for one another but are playing it cool for now. There’s 100 gold in it for you if you play along.”

“Hey, no bribes!” Sam called out as he rushed over. Sebastian trailed behind and both men held packages in bright wrapping paper. “But, if you wanna say you guys are just friends and deny everything, I’ll split my winnings with you, 40-60.”

The Farmer rolled his eyes but allowed himself a small smile. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I told you they kissed,” Sebastian said, taking the seat across from Abby. “I win, so pay up.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.” Abby shot back.

“Don’t you guys have better things to do than gossip about my love life?” The Farmer said. He tried to project annoyance but couldn’t. The trio just naturally amused him with their banter, even if they were gossiping about his love life right in front of him. “This is the Feast of the Winter Star. We should be talking about what we’re grateful for and enjoying the food.”

“You should have plenty to talk about then,” Sam nodded to the pile of gifts that sat in front of The Farmer on the table.

“Yeah,” Abby chimed in, wearing a smirk. “Looks like Alex isn’t the only one harboring secret feelings for you.”

Alex, in fact, wasn’t the only one in town that had decided to get The Farmer a gift. There were gifts from Penny and Pam, Robin’s Family, Haley and Emily, and even Pierre. The latter didn’t count though, as he simply gave everyone in town an overly decorated letter that said it was good for 5% off a one-time purchase at his store. Pam’s was, in all honesty, a gift really meant for herself—a book along with a greeting card. It was titled ‘Making Your Own Ale, from Seed to Barrel.’ and the card tucked within the book’s leaflet said, “I call dibs on your first successful fermentation!”

“Farmer, I must confess,” Sebastian placed his gift on the table, then one hand over his heart. His voice was deadpan. “I can’t hold it in anymore. I just have to tell you about my true feelings that I have harbored.”

“No, I must confess first!” Sam slammed his gift on the table as his voice rose. “I know Sebastian has that irresistible emo charm, but I refuse to let him steal you away from me!”

“Aw, you think I’m irresistible?”

“I don’t.” The Farmer interjected, and then reached out and took both of their gifts while the men were distracted. “Thank you for your lovely gifts, but I'm afraid you’ll both be receiving a rejection.”

“Oh well,” Sebastian shrugged a smile on his face. “I, at least, have Sam to fall back on.”

“And at least they got me something.” The Farmer remarked, shooting a look at Abby and then smiling at the sudden face of over-the-top and far-too-dramatic offense she made.

“Is the gift of my friendship not enough?”

“That’s almost worse than your dad’s gift.”

“Hey, low blows like that are illegal.”

The Farmer laughed, but then turned to Sam and Sebastian. “Thank you, guys, seriously. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Oh, we know,” Sebastian said, “That why I’m giving you homework instead of a gift. Based on how easily you died when we played Solarian Chronicles last week, I feel like it was my duty as Path Master to gift you the official rulebook.”

“My gift is actually more of my mom’s gift in all honesty.” Sam admitted. “She really appreciates how you always fulfill her requests on the help wanted board, so she wanted to get you something. I told her you mentioned you wanted to get into preserving foods a while back, so she bought you a beginner canning set. But I picked out the wrapping paper.”

“Well, thank you again.” The Farmer added the gifts to his pile, and a sudden somber wave washed over him. He stared at the small pile and spoke. “I didn’t realize there were so many people in town that I’d gotten this close within just a year. I think this is the most gifts I’ve ever received since I was ten.”

“Come on, this is the least we can do.” Sebastian said.

“Yeah!” Sam agreed. “You’ve given my mom so much fresh produce that she says she’s spoiled. Plus, you always grow our favorites.”

“Please, I bet he keeps a list of what we all like back at the house,” Abby said to The Farmer. “You’ve always got your nose buried in those notebooks of yours, jotting down anything and everything like one of those know-it-alls in anime. That’s why you keep giving us stuff out of the blue. Eventually, the guilt will build up and everyone in town will have to give something back in return.”

“You can prove nothing.” The Farmer, reached under the table, and produced three small gift bags. “On a totally unrelated note, I have gifts for each of you.”

“I told you he keeps notes,” Abby hissed to her friends as they received the bags.

“It’s nothing special.” The Farmer said, trying to play it off. “My dad was so excited at having farm fresh eggs and milk that he went a little crazy make custard the other night. My fridge is literally overflowing with them, and there’s no way for me to eat it all before they go bad.”

“Well thank your Mr. Farmer’s dad!” Sam cheered.  

While the trio opened their bags, The Farmer moved his attention to Alex. That’s when he realized that Alex had been staring at him, and when their eyes met, Alex smiled. The Farmer felt his stomach summersault happily, and he smiled back. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Alex’s attention was demanded by something George had said.

The Farmer continued watching Alex, finding comfort in his image. This morning, before he and his parents had all left for the plaza, anxiety had worked its way into his head. He’d been avoiding Alex subconsciously, and the realization hit him much like that bat he wished he could hit Morris with.

Things had felt weird between them, ever since the mine incident. It was as if Haley had decided to shave her head, but then no one would acknowledge it. He and Alex stood on a tightrope, but neither was willing to point out the fraying strands. The Farmer was scared that if he brought it up and they started to talk, the rope might snap entirely. Now, watching the way that Alex easily interacted with his father, The Farmer felt as if a weight had been lifted.

“You say nothing is going on, yet he can’t keep his eyes off of you.” Abby taunted. “Can you at least let me know when the wedding is?”

The Farmer dropped his smile, then calmly plucked Abby’s gift out of her lap. “That’s it, friendship privileges revoked.” Before Abby could react, he slid the gift across the table. “Sam, you get Abby’s present this year.”

“Score!” Sam snatched it off the table and stuck his tongue out at Abby. “And you’ll have to fight me if you want it back,” he teased.

“Gladly!”

The Farmer and Sebastian excused themselves from the table as Abby launched herself across it and tackled Sam to the ground. The Farmer couldn’t keep the smile from his face, and his cheeks were starting to hurt from it. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time that this had happened. Just a year ago, trapped at his desk job for Joja, he’d been so overworked and emotionally drained that he believed that he’d never smile again. Now, he had friends, a place of his own in a beautiful town, and he was actually spending the holidays with his family.

He found himself naturally looking back to Alex, a sort of warming calmness filling him up from his stomach. Whatever it was he had with Alex, The Farmer felt a confidence in his gut that it wouldn’t sour. His anxiety still voiced doubts in his mind, but they were much quieter now.

“I’m gonna go join my parents,” The Farmer said to Sebastian.

As The Farmer turned to step away, Sebastian added, “Not that I expect anything bad to happen, but you know you’ve always got us to lean on too, right?”

The Farmer paused, and then smiled back at the man. “I do.”

Year 1

Season: Winter

Date: 26

The Witch yawned, stretching as she rose from her bed. She wasn’t normally a morning person, but she felt more than well rested. A smile had emerged on her face as she realized that, in fact, she felt perfectly rested. The temperature of the hut last night had been optimally chilly. The bed had been just the right amount of lumpiness. Her pet spiders had even constructed a beautiful cobweb among the rafter’s that read ‘Today will be terrible.’

“I haven’t felt this well rested since I divorced my husband.” The Witch mused as she swung out of bed. She didn’t know why, but today felt like it was going to be a delightfully horrid day. Maybe she’d even fly into town and curse a few of the townsfolk while their backs were turned.

“Yes, that’s what I’ll do,” she chuckled. The Witch gave a small wave of her hand, and her nightgown flew off, replaced by a midnight black robe and pointy hat that had pulled themselves out from under her bed. “Should I curse The Blacksmith? No…no he’s no fun anymore. Whenever I curse his tools to break in the middle of his work, he just starts crying. It’s not as amusing after the sixth time.” She snapped her fingers, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “I know, The Shopkeeper! He has such a delightful vocabulary. Maybe I’ll shift around his merchandise again. Cast a spell that causes his products to become invisible to everyone but him. Oh, yes! I can just see him now, screaming at his own customers through his frustrations. Then I’ll get some revenge against that one while I’m at it. Two doves with one spell, Ms. Witch you have outdone yourself!”

The Witch cackled, enjoying the genius that was her own company. “Now, it’s time for the most important meal of the day,” she sang to herself as she made her way to the main room. “And I have just the most delicious-looking raccoon I got from those—”

She pushed the door open and paused. The Cauldron was at a full boil, and five little Junimo, still trapped in their cage, turned to her.

The Witch slapped her hand over her face and groaned. “I almost forgotten about you pests.”

“Sleeping in until two in the afternoon isn’t a healthy coping mechanism.” White said.

“It’s also not normal to talk to yourself like that.” Blue added. “When we’re done with all this, can set up a profile for you on Mystics Only! If you want, that is.”

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?” Green shrieked, ignoring Blue and White. “It’s been months! We thought you’d forgotten about us.”

Witch ignored the spirits, walking over to open one of the rotting wood cabinets in her disaster zone of a kitchen. She rummaged through it, pulling out an old-fashioned clock. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only been 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 3 seconds.” She tossed the clock aside, which shattered into pieces when it collided with the floor. “We’re still on time to cast your silly little spell.”

“The fate of our entire species rests upon this silly little spell!” Orange cried out in protest. “You should give us the respect we deserve. I did your dirty work for you and got the ingredients.”

“Technically we did the work…” Green muttered to itself.

The Witch pulled out a jar of eyeballs, preserved in green liquid. She popped the top off with her thumb, and the spirits watched in horror as she took a long drink. She drained its contents before belching loudly. The Witch tossed the jar aside, which also shattered on the floor, and waved her hands in the air to summon the retro TV again.

“Don’t you worry your stupid little faces.” The Witch said. She banged the sides of the TV a few times, as the screen once again flickered through several scenes featuring the Villagers of Pelican Town. The Witch continued to smack the TV, changing channels, until it switched to a split-screen mode. On the left side was an image of The Athlete, sitting at a weight machine and staring at a hole on the opposite wall, lost in thought. On the right side, The Hero was standing under the branches of the pine tree just outside the spa, looking down at his phone appearing to be just as deep in thought as The Athlete.

“It was these two, right?” The Witch gestured a thumb at the TV screen. “Yeesh, just look at their faces. They look like they’re in trouble.”

“Exactly why we’ve come to you for your help!” Orange said.

Suddenly, the pieces of the broken clock snapped themselves back together and rang a shrilly alarm. It bounced about the floor like an overly excited puppy. The Witch scowled before kicking it into a pile of broomsticks where it fell silent.

“Alright, the cauldron has simmered for 24 hours.” The Witch declared. She rummaged through another cupboard, producing an armful of vials. All were unique in size, shape, and content. She marched over to the cauldron, and unceremoniously dumped them, glass vials and all, into the pot. The liquid reacted instantly and violently, turning as black as the cauldron. As the liquid foamed over, dripping down the iron pot, it connected with the angry fire below. A column of flames shot up to the ceiling, licking the roof of the hut in a bright orange light.

Then, as quickly as the fire shot upwards, it retreated. The flames contained themselves and not a thing within the hut had been hurt by the fire. The Witch stretched her fingers out before herself, each bone in her gnarled finger cracking as she did. “All right, let's start with the memory erasure!”

The Farmer’s back fell against the spa, where he remained for only a moment before pacing back over to the nearby pine tree. His hands were shoved into his pockets, fingers playing with the fabric. That continued for less than a minute before he walked back to the spa, leaned against the building, and pulled out his phone to open his messaging app for the twenty-seventh time in the last five minutes.  He reread his conversation with Alex, despite knowing it would only add fuel to the anxiety within him.

FARM LIFE: hey Alex, you up?

ALEX: it’s nearly 1 in the afternoon

ALEX: of course i’m up lol

FARM LIFE: not all of us can have the perfect sleep schedule mr. fitness junkie

FARM LIFE: i had the joys of entertaining my parents last night

ALEX: and that’s a bad thing?

FARM LIFE: did you not see the amount of alcohol Lewis gave my dad?

FARM LIFE: when my dad’s drunk he likes to give unsolicited advice like he’s accepting an award

FARM LIFE: he wouldn’t go to bed until three in the morning

FARM LIFE: he wanted to share with me some of “Life’s true lessons”

ALEX: i’m sorry that your dad loves you

ALEX: it sounds like an absolute tragedy

FARM LIFE: if you want him you can have him

FARM LIFE: he’s too cringy for me

ALEX: score! No take backs!

ALEX: your dad it a total upgrade compared to my dad

FARM LIFE: no offense, but from what you told me

FAMM LIFE: your dad didn’t set that bar very high

FARM LIFE: anyways, are you free?

FARM LIFE: i was hoping we could talk a little?

ALEX: yha!

ALEX: Eyah!

ALEX: y

FARM LIFE: you good?

ALEX: yes

ALEX: and yeah, i’m free

ALEX: i’m actually finishing up a workout at the spa

ALEX: i’ve also had something I’ve wanted to talk to you about

ALEX: could you meet me outside?

FARM LIFE: yeah, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

ALEX: :)

The Farmer had stared at that fucking emoji for far too long in an attempt to discern its secrets. Two fucking characters was all it was, and yet to The Farmer, those two characters felt like they held the answers to every single secret of the universe. What did Alex want to talk about? Should he let Alex go first? What if it was something important? Maybe it was something that would give him a clearer answer to what The Farmer was going to confess.

The Farmer closed his phone and pocketed it with a sigh. How many times had he told himself that there was going to be no more ‘What if?’ questions? He was going to get an answer today. No matter what that answer was, it was going to push him forward.

“You okay?”

The Farmer’s head snapped up. Alex was standing right next to him, a look of worry in his eyes. He had been so distracted by his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard Alex leave the spa and approach. The Farmer realized that he’d been staring since their eyes met, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt his heart beat this fast. Dear Yoba, was he actually ready to do this?

“I’m fine,” The Farmer turned his face away, trying his best to not stutter. “I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

Alex gave a very soft chuckle that managed to turn The Farmer’s insides to jelly. “I can tell. You didn’t even realize that it’d started snowing.” He reached out and brushed some of the fresh snowfall from The Farmer’s hair.

The Farmer flinched at the touch, turning to Alex with crimson cheeks. The two locked eyes again, and for a moment, the world held its breath as neither said a word. In this quiet moment, they were the only ones in existence. The Farmer wanted it to last forever, this split second of a moment where he wasn’t worried about Alex’s feelings towards him. He wanted to throw himself at Alex, untested boundaries be damned, and be wrapped up in the other man’s embrace.

It felt as if there were mere inches between them. Had they gotten closer to each other, pushed by the unseen?  He wanted more, to experience anything, everything, and nothing with Alex. The Farmer felt himself lean in.

Alex suddenly looked ashamed, broke eye contact, and dropped his hand. “You, ah, look kind of cold. Let’s go inside and talk.”

Without waiting for an answer, Alex turned back to the Spa.

“Wait!” The Farmer’s hand shot out, grabbing Alex’s own hand. The jelly that The Farmer’s insides had become now felt like a million needles, whipped into a chaotic maelstrom of emotion. Alex started to turn back to him, but The Farmer looked down before he could completely see the other man’s face. Instead, his eyes focused on his hand.

A hand which Alex had not let go of.

It was almost too much, something this small and insignificant felt like it had the power to tear down the confidence he’d built up. Yet it was reaffirming. The Farmer had been prepared for Alex to yank his hand away, to hear that familiar question of ‘What are you doing?’ from Alex’s lips. Instead, Alex did nothing, said nothing as The Farmer dragged his thumb across Alex’s skin. His hand was warm, despite the winter air, and it made The Farmer want to cry.

 He thought he was prepared to see that familiar expression, that mix of confusion and disgust, sully Alex’s face. To see confirmation or denial of it, he knew it would be too much. His flimsy confidence would shatter, no matter what he saw.

“No.” The Farmer’s own voice sounded foreign, and his tongue suddenly too large for his mouth. It was all he could do to keep his hand from trembling. “There’s something I need to say, Alex. Right now.”

Red inched its way toward the back of the cage as the other Junimos spoke with The Witch. It needed a way out of here, but Red just couldn’t see how. It had already tried breaking the cage’s bars last night as The Witch slept. They felt even stronger now that they’d been magically tampered with. Red knew it needed to do something, but as The Witch began to chant, it all felt hopeless.

“I beseech the dark ones and your mercy.” She said, “I humbly ask as thy servant.”

With a flourish of her hands, the images of The Hero and The Athlete popped from the TV like photographs and floated above the cauldron. The TV disappeared with a ‘Snap!’ and the images dropped into the cauldron, turning the liquid from black to a deep and verdant green.

Desperation took hold, and Red threw itself against the front of the cage. The Junimo’s wooden prison wobbled on its perch, but it did not fall. The other spirits were knocked against each other, dazing them.

“Free us these men from the shackles we call memory.” The Witch continued. Another flourish of her hands, and the baggie containing The Athlete’s hair dropped into the cauldron. The cauldron’s liquid to a neon green.

Red threw itself against the cage’s bars again, throwing as much force as it could muster into the charge. The cage shook, but Red was no closer to getting out. “Stop it!” Red cried out.

“Restrain Red!” White ordered, recovering from the initial shock. Blue and Green both immediately jumped to their feet with a ‘Yes, sir!’ and appeared at Red’s side. They grabbed Red’s arms, holding the Junimo back.

“I offer unto you,” The Witch continued to chant, her voice echoing. “The shared memory upon which to burn away all connection.” Another flourish, and the bagged strawberries dropped into the cauldron.

The liquid shifted again, this time to what could only be described as a radiant or radioactive green. Bubbles began to rise from the cauldron and they started to fill the room. Trapped within the bubbles were images of The Hero and Athlete as children. They laughed and chased each other through fields of growing crops, played tag with the other children at the playground, and ate ice cream in the shade. The cauldron produced more and more bubbles, and each one filled with a different memory.

Then, all at once, each and every bubble popped.

Red watched the events unfold, feeling the strength to fight back fade from its limbs. Helplessness overtook it. Even if it hadn’t been restrained by Blue and Green, there was absolutely nothing Red could do.

“I gift these men a scale of the cold titan of the forest, to numb their pain.” The Witch repeated her motions, and the scale of the Glacierfish was added, turning the sludge into a blinding white light.

Red could no longer look upon its own failure. While the other spirits gasped in excitement, Red stared up at the ceiling. If Junimos were capable of crying, now would have been the most appropriate moment. There was only one more ingredient left, and not even the shadow that moved swiftly through the rafters of the hut could stop her.

If Red had eyelids, it would have blinked and done a double take. A shadow stalked its way across the openings in the ceiling, silently moving until it had positioned itself behind The Witch. Yellow eyes glared down at the back of her head and an orange-furred tail subtly dropped into view.

“And finally, to ensure the mistake is not repeated, we offer the shame of a weak and frail maaa-, ah, ACHOO!” The Witch violently sneezed, her hands jerking out of the air as she did. She rubbed her nose and looked around. “Is there a cat in here?”

Without her concentration, the magic film surrounding The Mayor’s lucky shorts vanished. The purple fabric floated towards the cauldron.

The Beast leapt from the rafters and into view. The cat first landed on the back of The Witch’s head, knocking her hat into the cauldron, and ripped the shorts out of the air just a moment before they touched the liquid.

“Hell yeah!” Red screamed while it’s fellow Junimo’s all screamed in agony.

The Beast’s eyes met Red’s, a certain smugness behind those yellow slits as the cat flew. The Beast moved swiftly, jumping off various surfaces of the hut until he reached the cage, and deftly swiped a paw at the cage’s lock.

“Not so fast!” The Witch yelled, swinging her hands about wildly.

A white light enveloped The Beast, and just before it’s claws could knock away the lock, the cat flew back towards The Witch. She snatched the cat by the gruff of his neck with one hand and ripped the shorts out of his mouth with her other hand. Without wasting a moment, she dunked the shorts into the cauldron.

“Ha! Did ya really think you could outsmart me?” She sneered at The Beast, and then sneezed. “I’ve eaten greater beasts then you for breakfast!”

The Beast hissed at her face.

The Witch hissed back, and opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when rainbow light suddenly filled the hut. Cat and witch both slowly turned to the cauldron, which was bubbling over even worse than before. A whistling sound like a train whistle filled the air.

“HIT THE DECK!” The Witch screamed.

“I need to say it now, before I lose the nerve to.” The Farmer squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will away the coming tears. He didn’t know why he felt like crying. He hadn’t even said anything, yet just thinking about possible outcomes made him feel like he was being crushed under the bed of a Joja Truck. He desperately hoped for the best but prayed to Yoba that he had fully prepared himself for the worst. He felt like a skydiver who’d pulled the cord for the backup parachute without even testing the first one. He couldn’t tell if his heart had given out or if it simply beat too fast for him to feel it. Everything would change after this conversation, one way or another.

“I’ve been avoiding you, Alex.” He blurted out. “I... I’ve been scared to talk to you ever since the incident in the mines.”

The Farmer heard Alex take a step closer, his shoes crunching in the snow. Still, he did not let go of his hand. “What do you mean?” Alex’s voice was low and gentle.

“I just…I’m scared.” The Farmer admitted. “I’m scared of what’s going to slip out when I’m around you. When I moved here a year ago, I felt broken and directionless…trapped in a life I had no control over. I just wanted to get away from it all. I came here looking for solitude, some time to hide myself away from the world and heal. I’d lost the will and drive to look for anything else. But…then I met you.”

The Farmer’s tears started to break free, cold against his cheek as the first one fell. When he inhaled, he almost choked on the air. He opened his eyes but could not bring himself to look any higher than Alex’s chest. “I don’t think you realize just how amazing you are, and how much it means to me that you’ve been my friend this last year. You have no idea how grateful I am for that. Grateful that you’re the one to pull me along on every one of your whims, for choosing to spend time with me. When I’m with you, it’s like I’m flying. You just have so much kindness, understanding, and patience that I…I want to stay by your side.”

Tears started to fall from The Farmer’s eyes. He dared not look up. The other man hadn’t said a word yet, but neither had he moved away. The Farmer felt like a jumbled mess, just saying anything and everything that popped into his head. It was so easy to talk to Alex, but summoning the strength for this confession was like trying to move a mountain.  

“But…when I’m with you, I also have these selfish and horrible thoughts.” The Farmer continued.  “Thoughts like…like I want to be the only one that has your attention. I want to be the reason you smile, and the only one that makes you laugh. And when we’re apart, I can’t eat, I can’t think, I-I can’t even breath sometimes. I feel like I don’t even sleep anymore because of this feeling that’s taken over my heart.”

The dam gave way, and The Farmer’s tears began to fall unhindered. They stained his chilled skin, and they were only the start. This was it. He couldn't stop it, even if he wanted to. Alex remained silent as The Farmer babbled on, only twisting his insides even more. He had to keep going, even if it meant the worst comes to pass.

“I’ve been trying so hard to not tell you. I-I’m scared that once I say it, you’re going to drop me, and I’ll plummet right back to earth and end up even more broken than when I first came here. But this feeling has eaten away at me so much that I’m at the point where my heart can’t take the stress anymore. Not saying it hurts me so much more than any fear or wild speculation that keeps me up at night. I used to spend my nights staring at the ceiling and feeling like my life was amounting to nothing. But now my nights are sleepless, because I, Alex I-”

The air caught in his throat, and The Farmer wanted to scream. Now, why now of all times was he choking on his own voice?  A tempest of emotions ran rampant through his brain—panic and desperation, fear and hope—he barely had enough willpower to keep standing. The only thing that kept him going, was the fact that Alex was still there, holding his hand. The Farmer squeezed it tightly, finding the strength to finally meet Alex’s eyes.

When at long last, their eyes met, The Farmer found tears in Alex’s emerald eyes. It was only for a moment, because in the next second, Alex pulled him in, and was kissing him.

The Farmer crumbled. Emotionally and physically, he collapsed, melting into Alex’s embrace as the other man wrapped his arms around him. His lips were soft, but Alex kissed him with a fervor that bordered on painful. He felt like he’d snapped and was stuck in a desperate hallucination, but one he’d willingly remain in.

The Farmer snaked his hands into Alex’s hair, knocking his beanie to the ground as they deepened the kiss. If this was a hallucination, then he intended to milk it for all it was worth. The earth shook and the explosion of fireworks rang overhead. No kiss had ever felt like this before, and he never wanted it to stop. He felt Alex’s own tears against his cheeks as the man desperately kissed deeper, mixing with his own. They wouldn’t stop. Every second that they stayed like this was an affirmation that The Farmer’s fears were unjustified, that he was not only safe, but wanted. Alex’s kisses were filled with a longing that surprised The Farmer. He pushed more and more with every kiss, drawing the two of them as close as physically possible.

Eventually The Farmer had to push Alex away to breathe. He wanted to keep his eyes closed, wanted to feel those lips against his own, but now was when his voice decided to return. “Yoba damnit Alex,” he said with a choked laugh, “I was trying to confess to you. Why are you crying?”

Alex gave a similar laugh, touching their foreheads together, his voice choking on his own tears. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it…” Their noses brushed against each other, as the white haze of their breath filled the air. There was hardly an inch between them.

“I’m sorry.” Alex repeated, softly. There was a reverence to his voice now. As if the world would shatter if he spoke too loudly. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first. It’s just that…Once I realized what you were saying I couldn’t help myself. I…I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long now. I was just…scared you didn’t feel the same way.”

The Farmer felt himself flush deeply at the confession. Heat coursed through his body so violently that surely the snow around them had melted. There was a welcoming rush of joy that accompanied it, making his stomach flip. He buried his face into Alex’s shoulder and tightened his grip on the other man. “You’re lying.”

Alex nuzzled his face into The Farmer’s head, one of his hands coming up to run through The Farmer’s hair. “I can’t lie to you,” he said softly.  “I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted to kiss you since the moment we met. I may not have realized it at first…but I’ve always been drawn to you. From the moment I threw Dusty’s frisbee a little too far, in fact.”

Alex’s hand moved to The Farmer’s cheek and coaxed the other man’s head upward, so they were seeing each other’s eyes again. Alex’s emeralds were puffy and red but filled with an ecstatic warmth as they gazed at one another. His thumb ran softly up and down The Farmer’s cheek, wiping away the tears that still clung on. Alex’s touch was comforting but electrifying. It was a strange sensation, one that The Farmer never wanted to get accustomed to.

“Can I kiss you again?” Alex asked.

The question quickened The Farmer’s heartbeat. His pulse raced madly as he processed the question. This meant that the first kiss was most definitely not a dream, and that Alex had, in fact, meant to kiss him the first time. Instead of answering him, The Farmer pushed forward and initiated the second.

He felt Alex tense for a moment, but then he smiled into the kiss and once again wrapped his arms tightly around The Farmer. The Farmer in turn took great joy in reaching his arms around Alex’s waist and pulling them close together. It was better than any daydream or evening fantasy he’d come up with, because this was real. Alex was here and now, holding and kissing him.

When they broke apart this time, Alex was smiling from ear-to-ear with that trademark, shit-eating grin of his

“What is it?” The Farmer asked.

“I just can’t believe that you’re my boyfriend.”

The Farmer’s heart launched itself into his throat and he made a sound like a spit take. Whatever expression was on his face in that split second brought doubt into Alex’s eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong!” The Farmer quickly stammered, trying to reassure Alex. “I mean, I just, we’ve only kissed twice. Not that there’s anything wrong with that! And it’s definitely not that I don’t want to be your, your b-boyfriend. I just didn't think I’d ever hear you say that, at least…not before you took me on a few dates.”

Alex’s grin widened, and The Farmer felt himself shaking from the boldness of his statement. “Well, then you’re just going to get used to it. Because I’m going to take you on a ton of dates because I’m your boyfriend!”

Suddenly, Alex swept The Farmer off his feet, spinning the two of them around and pulling The Farmer into his arms. The Farmer yelped, clinging to Alex tighter as Alex cheered and laughed. “Boyfriend, boyfriend, you’re my boyfriend!”

“Alex, stop it!” The Farmer laughed, not at all meaning what he said.

Alex continued to spin them a few seconds more until he lost his footing on a patch of ice hidden under the snow. The two yelled as they fell, thankfully finding a soft landing in the nearby snowbank. After landing, the two exchanged another look before bursting into laughter again.

The Farmer steeled his courage then, and repositioned himself on top of Alex’s chest, brushing some melting snow out of the other man’s forehead. Alex tensed beneath him, but still wrapped his arms around The Farmer’s waist. Both men could feel the snowmelt against their skin, having snuck between the folds of their clothing when they fell, but neither cared. Hell, they could have been tumbling across the floor of the chicken coop, and even that wouldn’t have been able to dampen the mood.

“You know Alex,” The Farmer said playfully, “you’d better be careful. You’re dropping me in snowbanks now? It seems like whenever we’re together, I have a pretty good chance of ending up at Harvey’s. What are you going to do if I end up hurt again?”

“I don’t know,” Alex pulled The Farmer’s face closer to his own. “Maybe I secretly liked it when you get hurt and had to rely on me for help around the farm.”

The Farmer arched an eyebrow and gave Alex a little smirk. “If I wasn’t wearing rose-tinted glasses right now, I’d say you’re starting to raise some major red flags.”

Alex smirked back. “I kid. I promise to do my best to keep you out of harm's way whenever we spend time together.”

“Good, because we’re going to be spending a lot of time together in the near future.”

Their lips found one another again, and The Farmer reveled in the warmth that Alex’s body radiated. Surrounded by the frozen snow below and chilled air above them, there was nowhere else he’d rather be. Their kiss was tender and far more relaxed than before. Simply enjoying the mere sensation of lip against lip, they were lost in their own little world.

The Farmer would have been content remaining like that for hours, but the crunching of footsteps on snow abruptly broke their silent world. The two came apart, both turning to find Linus awkwardly walking towards them. The man had emerged from the top of the mountain path with a sheepish expression. He flinched when they saw him and gave an apologetic half-smile and a tiny wave.

The Farmer felt the shock of embarrassment like a bucket of cold water. Honestly, the last thing he expected he’d be doing today was making out with Alex in the snow with Linus as witness.

The Farmer quickly pulled himself off Alex and to his feet, offering a helping hand to the other man. Alex took it, looking just as embarrassed as The Farmer felt and dodging Linus' eyes.

“Ah, I’m sorry, boys.” Linus said as he passed. He continued to wear his half-smile, giving little apologetic bows with every step. “So sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt. But I really need to warm up these old bones, you know?” He chuckled awkwardly.

“Sure,” The Farmer and Alex said simultaneously, flashing each other a small look.

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be in here for a while.” Linus pushed through the spa’s front door. “Oh, and ah, congratulations.”

The old man disappeared into the building, and when the door closed completely, The Farmer burst out laughing. Alex looked at him, with both joy and confusion on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh Yoba, where do I start?” The Farmer stepped into Alex and hugged him, burying his face in the man’s shoulder. Joy welled up inside him as Alex returned the embrace, his warmth seeping into The Farmer’s body. “Just, everything! I think I’m just relieved to know you feel the same way.”

“What, you mean you didn’t notice all of my attempted flirting with you?”

“You’ve been flirting with me?” The Farmer teased.

“Have been for half a year, but thanks for noticing.” Alex chuckled, pressing his face into The Farmer’s hair. He stayed like that for a moment, and then The Farmer could feel the other man tense up slightly. “I was scared,” Alex admitted. “This is the first time I’ve ever felt so drawn to someone like this. I literally couldn’t stop thinking about you, what you were doing, what you might say. I spent so much time imagining what this’d be like and…and I didn’t want to be rejected.”

The Farmer pulled back slightly and moved a hand to cusp Alex’s face. “Why in Yoba’s name would anyone reject someone as amazing as you?”

Alex closed his eyes, leaning into The Farmer’s touch. “I don’t know,” he sighed, but then his eyes snapped open. “Shit, I have to tell my grandparents, don’t I?”

“Only when you want to,” The Farmer quickly said, trying to use his words soothe away the worried wrinkles that appeared in Alex’s expression. “Until then, we can keep it between us if you want to. Well, and Linus. But I know Linus can keep a secret.”

Alex sighed again, taking The Farmer’s hand off his face and interlocking their fingers. “I guess I was scared of being different. Aren’t you? I don’t think there’s anyone else in town that’s like us.”

The Farmer snorted, unable to help the laughter that escaped him, bringing confusion to Alex’s face again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Just, remind me to bring you out to the Saloon with Abby and the others on our second date.”

“Second date?” The corners of Alex’s mouth curled into a smile. “What happened to our first date?”

“I don’t know.” The Farmer touched their foreheads together again. Both of them closed their eyes and their noses brushed together. Alex’s scent filled his nostrils, and the only sound that reached his ears was the soft breathing of the other man. “What I do know is that whatever we decide to do, I want to spend it only with you, and nobody else. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Well then, I can’t wait to hear what you have planned for us.” Alex kissed him again, and The Farmer happily returned it. The problems hanging over his head and the uncertainty of the future seemed lightyears away. The farm, his Joja debt, and everyone in Pelican Town would have to wait. Right now, he wanted to devote himself fully, body and soul, to kissing the man that held him. The man that, The Farmer hoped with every fiber of his being, would be bringing him many more, joyful and sleepless nights.

At first, Red could only hear a high-pitched ringing. As it lessened, it was replaced with a continuous popping, like someone had set off a never-ending firecracker. It disoriented the spirit, making it hard to tell what way was up, down, or backwards. The rainbow smoke that filled the hut didn’t help, quickly transitioning and billowing through different colors.

Eventually, the hacking of The Witch could be made out, along with some foul and equally colorful swearing on her part. Without warning the smoke cleared from her home. It shot out of the open windows faster than a fox through the front door of a chicken coop, clearing the air almost instantly.

Red looked around, taking in the carnage. The cauldron had detonated into dozens of pieces of fist-sized shrapnel, peppering the walls in sharp jet-black metal. Cabinets were shredded and jars were shattered, their contents leaking down the walls and mixing together on the floor. As they mingled, odors far fouler than the swamp gas overwhelmed Red’s senses. A few of the intact jars with live samples bounced around the floor. Every so often, one would shoot out the window, followed by what sounded like fireworks.

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?” The Witch’s voice screeched, surely several octaves higher than human ears could register. Her green skin was now a tie-dyed rainbow, her hat was MIA while her hair stood on ends like she’d been electrocuted, and cat-like whiskers now protruded from the tip of her nose.

“Well, that looks like a new skylight,” Orange said, looking up at the hole in the ceiling. It was nearly half the size of the house.

“It will do wonders for your new complexion!” Green chimed in, throwing off a bit of the broken cabinet that had Blue pinned down.

“NO!” The Witch swung her hand through the air, whisking all five of the little spirits into the air with a scream and pulling them violently towards her. “The spell backfired! What happened? I thought you said they wanted to forget each other!”

Before any of the Junimo could answer, hysterical laughter filled the air. The Witch froze, and her whiskers twitched, and her eyes went wide, filled with furry. Without a word, she charged through her front door, snapping her fingers and dragging the spirits behind her. Outside, she found her ex-husband, The Wizard, clutching his gut on her front lawn, bent over from laughing.

He looked up when the door slammed open, and an ear-to-ear, honest-to-Yoba, truly delighted smile appeared on his face. He erupted into laughter even more thunderous than before. He tried to stop several times, but every time he looked up, The Wizard’s laughter only grew. Eventually, he managed to calm himself to say, “Y-you, look so fucking stupid!”

The Witch—who’d been glaring at him with a growing, furious silence—screamed. It was primal and animalistic, as raw as the world before it had been created. She waved her fists through the air, windmilling them in his direction. Objects began rising from the swamp; fallen trees, small boulders, dead fish, and the poor raccoon that thought it had escaped her breakfast nook. All streaked towards The Wizard.

The Wizard, who now had tears running down his face and was starting to wheeze from lack of air, waved one hand through the air dismissively. The projectiles of the swamp harmlessly bounced off the protective air bubble he summoned. 

“WHAT IS SO FUNNY?” The Witch screamed, using her magic to rip her front door off its hinges and heave it at The Wizard.

The Wizard threw one hand up to catch the door midair, wiping the tears from his eyes with his other hand. “It’s just so damn cathartic,” The Wizard said. He waved his hand aside, and the door flew off into the murky water. “It’s so refreshing to see someone else have to deal with the fallout from those troublemakers! The last time they messed with my house it was just filled with annoying, talking plants that couldn’t rhyme. But you, they practically made you homeless!”

“I’ll make you homeless, you damn pig!” The Witch threatened, pointing a finger at him. “Just you wait until my magic takes hold of this valley, and you’ll see! First those two boys, then the rest of the town!”

The Wizard erupted into laughter again, deflating The Witch’s confidence. Her accusatory arm went slightly limp as he laughed.

“Wait, wait, wait,” The Wizard said. “Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. You thought, you actually thought-!” He erupted in even louder laughter and snapped his fingers. The old tube TV flew out of The Witch’s hut and hovered next to him. It spun in the air quickly, magically repairing itself, and flickered to life. On screen, The Hero and The Athlete were wrapped up in each other's arms, making out passionately.

“Did you forget? Your magic only works on people that want to forget about each other! You actually thought that after twenty chapters and five years of bullshit writers block and procrastination, that there was a chance these two wouldn’t end up together!?” The Wizard fell backward, continuing to roar with laughter. “Don’t you know what this means? We’re free! I’m free! I'm finally free!”

He snapped his fingers once more, and poofed out of existence with a cloud of smoke. The TV dropped into the swamp, screen shattering as it impacted with the ground. The Witch and the Junimos were left to listen to the echoes of laughter.

As Red glanced over at The Witch, it had the realization that White and the others were cowering behind its body.

Orange chucked from its heroic hiding spot, “All’s well that ends well?”

The Witch’s head swiveled abruptly in the spirits’ direction. Red didn’t know how long she held her glare, just that if it didn’t have what she called ‘plot armor,’ Red and the others would most certainly be dead.

She snapped her fingers, and in an instant, Red and the others loaded into a fully drawn, giant trebuchet. They were unable to move as the Witch leaned in, her new whiskers ticking Red’s face.

“Never. Come. Back.”

She snapped her fingers, and the five little Junimo were sent flying into the darkness of the swamp. They screamed as one, terrified voices filling the air until they eventually collided with the trunk of a rotting and leafless oak tree. They remained plastered to the tree in a rather cartoonish manner before tumbling into a pile on the ground.

“Why won’t the world stop spinning?” Green moaned.

“So this is how it ends,” Blue said. “In overwhelming nausea?”

Red shook itself out, pulling itself free from the pile of spirits. Proudly, it hopped a few steps away before spinning to face the other four spirits. Red put its hands on its side and tried to imitate what the humans called a power pose. “Well?”

Orange shook itself too as it pulled itself up. “Well, what?”

“Well, don’t you all think you owe someone an apology?”

“We should apologize…” Blue thought for a moment. “To The Witch?”

“No!” Red snapped. “To me! I told you everything was going to work itself out, but you didn’t listen!”

The other four spirits mumbled amongst themselves until White coughed to clear its throat. It stepped forward, a hint of regret in its face. “Yes, well I suppose apologies are in order. I was too hasty in wanting to see results. I’m sorry, Red.” White’s body gave a small nod to Red and then promptly turned to Orange, Blue, and Green to smack them over the head with its walking stick. “Well come on, let's hear it!”

“Ow!” Orange rubbed the spot White had smacked it. “You don’t have to hit so hard.”

White raised its stick high into the air.

“We’re sorry!” Blue and Green said in unison. They threw themselves face first into the dirt before Red. They waved their arms up and down frantically in a failed attempt to make it look like they were bowing.

Red reached out and patted both on the back of the head. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry too.” Orange mumbled quickly.

Red looked over to its friend. “Yeah, well you’re an idiot, so I guess I’ll forgive you too.”

The two shared a moment of comfortable silence, but only a moment because White decided to hit Orange a few more times with its stick.

“Ow, ow, ow! What the heck was that for?” Orange yelled as it bounced over to Red to hide behind the spirit.

“That’s for being an idiot!” White huffed. “You’re lucky this whole thing only blew up in our faces. What if it blew up in The Hero’s face?”

“Well, it didn’t.” Orange mumbled.

“So how do we get out of here anyways?” Blue spoke up.

“Yeah, we’re kinda lost after that slingshot thing.” Green agreed.

“Meow.”

Every Junimo, except Red, jumped at the sound of The Beast. The Beast pushed its way through some undergrowth and into the spirits little clearing. He paused, taking in the terrified Junimos for a moment as his yellow eyes swept across them. The Beast’s cold glare fell on Red, and his whiskers twitched.

“Meow.”

Red perked up. “Really? Oh, thank you!” The little spirit jumped over to the animal before hopping onto his back, drawing soft and terrified gasps from the other spirits.

“Red, what are you doing?” Orange hissed.

“You’re not supposed to move!” Green said.

“The Beast’s vision is based on movement!” Blue agreed.

The Beast's head snapped to Blue, and the spirit screamed, ducking behind Green for cover.

“Meow!”

“He wants you to stop calling him The Beast.” Red translated.

“Wait,” White said, cautiously hopping over. “You can understand The Beast?”

“More or less,” Red said. “No come on, he’s going to show us the way out.”

The Beast walked across the clearing, with the other four Junimo giving him a wide berth before falling in line behind him.

“Well, what would he like him to call us?” White inquired.

Red turned around to face the other, looking smug. “He wants to be called The Hero.”

Alex pulled away from the kiss first. There were stars twinkling in his eyes as he grinned ear to ear. “Is it always supposed to feel like this?”

The Farmer was also smiling, so much so that his cheeks hurt. “What?”

Alex laughed, putting his forehead to The Farmers again. His eyes were trained downward for a moment, before flicking back up to meet The Farmer’s. A bashful expression crossed his face as his bottom lip jutted out slightly.

It had to be illegal to be that cute.

“It’s just…” Alex started, “When we kissed, I swear, on my life, that the ground was shaking, and I could hear fireworks and explosions in the back of my head.”

A chuckle bubbled up in The Farmer’s throat, quickly becoming a full laugh. “Damn Alex,” he said. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic. That’s literally how they describe a first kiss to feel like in romance novels.”

“No, I’m serious!” He insisted. “Like, yeah every time we’ve kissed so far, I feel like fireworks are going off in my stomach, but that first time when I kissed you just felt so much more…special!” Alex paused, his blush deepening. He brought his free hand up to grab the back of his neck and he looked aside. His other hand, that was still holding The Farmer’s, gripped slightly tighter. “Is it weird that I’m talking so much about us kissing?”

The Farmer smiled, tightening his own grip, “No. Not at all.”

“Great,” Some tension went out of Alex’s shoulders as he sighed in relief. “Because to be fully and embarrassingly honest with you. Just like I said before, I’ve thought about kissing you like, a lot. And now that it’s finally happened, all this embarrassing shit’s probably just gonna just spill out. Like I honestly feel like I have no filter right now. I’m just…” He trailed off, his smile softening as he stared at The Farmer. “I’m just so happy right now.”

The Farmer felt his cheeks deepen in color and heartbeat take off like a rocket at Alex’s confession. “So am I,” he mumbled, stepping closer to Alex so that he could put his forehead against Alex’s chest. He felt Alex’s arms wrap tightly around him, and the other man nuzzled into his head again. It was quickly becoming a habit of Alex’s that The Farmer hoped the other man would never grow out of.

As they stood there, The Farmer almost couldn’t believe that this was reality. He was too scared to pinch himself to find out this was a dream. It was almost funny how Alex held him, compared to the first kiss. His body shifted slightly every few seconds with cautious apprehension. Only now it wasn’t out of fear of rejection, but now a test of how far and how comfortable they were with each other.

The Farmer placed his own hands around Alex’s sides, feeling electricity rush through himself. His thumbs brushed against the waistline of Alex’s jeans, skin against skin. Alex’s body stiffened, and The Farmer raised his head to meet him eye-to-eye. If Alex had any protest to his actions, he didn’t say it. Alex’s face was flushed with a crimson that The Farmer had never seen before. It excited him, and he wanted to see more. He inched slowly closer, eyelids closing and his lips parting as Alex did the same.

“Meow.”

Both men jumped slightly, eyes snapping open at the meow. Their heads turned towards the small wooden train station on the other side of the tracks. The Farmer felt his face shift to utter bewilderment as his eyes locked onto Saber, sitting at the edge of the platform. His orange tail hung over the edge of the platform, swinging side to side as he watched The Farmer and Alex. He watched, slack-jawed and basically awestruck as Saber, his fat lazy cat, just sat there, staring at them.

Saber meowed again loudly before leaping off the platform and trotting through the snow towards the two humans.

The Farmer watched the cat, bewildered as to why Saber was even up here. More confusing was the fact that Saber didn’t come directly to him. Instead, the cat trotted over to Alex and started affectionately rubbing against the man’s legs. Saber meowed and purred loudly, constantly looking up at Alex before each noisy and attention-seeking meow.

Alex and The Farmer exchanged a look before Alex stepped away slightly to pick up the cat. He cradled Saber in his arms and scratched the animal's head. Saber snuggled into Alex’s hand and chest almost aggressively, purring as he did.

“Unbelievable,” The Farmer said, exasperated and glaring at the furry creature in Alex’s arms. “I’ve had a boyfriend for all of ten minutes and my fucking cat pops out of nowhere, ready to scent you and claim you has his own.”

Alex laughed, and his nose wrinkled up, but did not stop petting Saber. “Well count yourself lucky. I think Saber is in desperate need of a bath. He smells like he’s been rolling around in soot.”

Before The Farmer could respond, a multicolored streak of light flashed in the corner of his eye. He turned in its direction, seeing nothing at first. Then, at the edge of the tree line, he spotted the slightly luminescent glow of a Junimo’s cubed body. Red gave The Farmer a sheepish wave from its hiding spot before disappearing into the woods.

The Farmer stared at the spot Red had disappeared before scanning the rest of the woods. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the spirits, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that they had been up to something that involved his cat.

That’s when he spotted it in the sky above the tree line behind the station. There were thin, spider-like wisps of clouds that drifted slowly through the sky at far too low of an altitude. Almost as if they weren’t clouds but instead the leftover remains of…

“Fireworks?” The Farmer muttered.

“What was that?” Alex asked, looking over his shoulder to follow The Farmer’s gaze.

The Farmer continued to stare at the white wisps before looking back down to his cat. Saber meowed innocently, but The Farmer couldn’t help but wonder if his cat had always looked so freaking smug with himself.

When he met Alex’ puzzled expression, The Farmer pressed both his hands together, inhaled deeply, and said, “Have you ever heard of annoying little spirits called Junimos?”

Chapter Text

Year 1

Season: Winter

Date: 28

“What? That can't seriously be it, can it?” Blue exclaimed, flipping through the pages of the book quickly, then examining the front and back cover. “I mean, come on, there’s so many loose threads that didn’t get tied up!” 

“Plus they didn’t even, um, what do humans call it?” Green said, turning to the other spirits. A large mass of Junimos covered the floor, piled on top of each other and struggling for space in the tower's library. 

“Bumping uglies!” The mass of spirits proclaimed in unison. 

“Yeah that!” Blue snapped the book closed and chucked it off of the bookcase that it and Green were perched on. It flew into the mass of Junimons on the floor, drawing a few screams as they fled for cover. 

“Well what did you expect?” Orange hopped onto the shelf next to Green and Blue, looking up at the books lined up there. “It didn’t even have the NSFW tag. If you want bumping uglies, that’s what you need.”

“You mean like this one?” Blue pointed to a smallish book at the end of the shelf. The title of the book was followed by the number ‘18’  that sat under a red prohibition circle. Blue hobbled over to it and slapped the spine of the book. A moment later, the book flew off of the shelf and magically settled itself at the foot of the bookcase, opening to the last few pages. The Junimo quickly swarmed the book and clamored over one another to make their own comments about it.  

“What, can humans really do that?” 

“That size has to be an exaggeration!” 

“Why does it sound like they’re in pain? I thought they were supposed to enjoy this?” 

A door suddenly slammed open from elsewhere in the room. The Junimo all turned towards the staircase, and a moment later The Wizard, wearing a dinosaur onesie, marched down it. The sight of the spirits made his eyebrow twitch with annoyance, and he snapped. Lighting started to crackle from his fingertips, and Junimos screamed. They fled through whatever crevice or window that was available to them, like woodland rodents whenever a twig snapped. Very soon, The Tower was once again empty.

Except of course, for Orange, Green, and Blue, who no longer feared the magical man. They continued to pursue the bookshelves indifferently.  

The Wizard sighed deeply as the lighting fizzled out harmlessly. He massaged his temple with exaggerated annoyance. “What the hell are you doing in my house?” He demanded, sounding more tired than angry. 

“What does it look like?” Orange said, turning it’s back on The Wizard and examining the bookshelf. “We’re bored and are looking for another story.” 

“No, not you three.” The Wizard gestured vaguely around the room. “I mean what the hell is all this? The last time I checked, the second floor was storage for all my magical ingredients, not some sort of magical library. I know you guys have a thing for interior decorating, but this is taking it too far.” 

“It was like this when we got here.” Green said, hopping over to another shelf. “Oh, Double Life sounds interesting.” 

“It’s outdated and incomplete. The author is never going to finish it.” The Wizard said. Then, suddenly, he knit his brows together in concern. “Wait, how do I know that?” He looked down at his choice of outfit. “And what the hell am I wearing?” 

“We weren’t going to say anything,” Orange said.

“No, I mean are we even doing?” He started walking around the room, examining the shelves as he did. “This story is supposed to be over and we’re all supposed to move on with our-” The Wizard stopped short as the title of a certain book caught his eye. A horrified dread slowly crept onto his face. He reached out tentatively, hands shaking as he gently picked up the book. He held the book in both of his trembling hands, tears falling from his eyes. 

“No!” He screamed, flinging the book violently across the room. The sound of fluttering pages filled the room as it flew, and right before colliding with the wall, it simply stopped. The Wizard stared at the book, horror-struck, dumbfounded, and mouth agape as the book righted itself and snapped shut, pages still in pristine condition. Then, it began floating back toward The Wizard. 

“No!” The Wizard screamed again, conjuring a fireball in his hand and lobbing it at the book. The fire exploded with the book, but when the magic dissipated, the book remained untouched. .

“No, No, No!” The Wizard continued to conjure and throw fire, but each one was just as ineffective as the first one. The Wizard took a step backwards, and then another, trying to keep as much space between him and the floating atrocity. Soon though, he felt his back pressed up against the cold stone of his tower. His hope of having a peaceful and quiet life now that The Farmer’s love story was resolved started to shrivel up inside him.  

He turned and ran, scrambling down the staircase and almost tripping over his own feet in the process. It was his last desperate attempt to get out of this Yoba-forsaken story, refusing to acknowledge the small voice in the back of his head saying it was futile. He reached the front door of his tower and threw it open, but stopped short. A woman stood there, her hand raised as if she had just been about to knock. She was wrapped up in a thick jacket and scarf. Her hood was thrown up and obscured her face. She stepped backwards in surprise when the door was thrown up. 

The Wizard froze. Every fiber of his being wanted to desperately run away from here, to shove her aside and launch into the darkness of the night sky and fly away. He didn’t care where he went, he just wanted out. However, deep in his soul he knew the truth. He knew that wherever he went, he would never be able to escape the nightmare that the hell-sent book had in store for him.

The woman before him brought her hand to her chest and then said, “Magnus, you might not remember me…” She paused, and then pulled back her hood and scarf, revealing her shoulder length green hair, tied back in twin pigtails. “But I remember you. I think we need to-.” 

The Wizard suddenly snapped his fingers, and the woman vanished. 

“Holy shit he killed her!” Orange’s voice screamed from behind him. 

The Wizard sighed deeply, closing the door and turning to face the Junimos. Orange, Blue, and Green had gathered at the top of the staircase, looking more than slightly terrified. The Wizard stuffed his hands into the pockets of his onesie, finally reigning himself to his new fate. Annoyance was etched deeply upon his face as he started the slow and agonizing march back up the stairs. The spirits jumped out of his way, but he didn’t have the energy to care about them, or anything for that matter. He stopped at the top of the stairs, scowling at the book that waited for him. 

“I didn’t kill her,” The Wizard said, reaching out and taking the book in his hand. “She’s back at home, sleeping in bed, and will wake up tomorrow morning thinking that she was dreaming. I just didn’t want to deal with her right now. I imagine I’ll be seeing her soon enough though.”

 “So then…what’s the deal with the book?” Orange hopped up onto The Wizard’s shoulder, peering down at the book as he opened it. 

“It’s not really a book,” he said. He leafed through the pages, skimming over the words. “It’s more of a jumble of ideas, cut content, and hastily written prompts that have yet to be fleshed out and connected. But something tells me it won’t stay that way for long.” 

“Well what’s it called?” Green asked, bouncing over with Blue. 

The Wizard closed the book and turned it over to read the cover. “Sleepless Nights: After the First Year.”

Before I get into the nitty gritty details about my feelings, YES THERE IS A PLANNED SEQUEL TO THIS FIC. 

If you’ve read all the way until the end, please know you have all my love and thanks for sticking with me all this time. Especially after the later chapters started to reach 30+ pages instead of the earlier 12-14 pages.  Now I can finally run to the rooftops and scream at the top of my voice, “HOLY SHIT IT’S DONE!” 

I honestly can’t believe it took me five years to finish this. This fic means a lot to me for a number of reasons. First off, it’s the first actual multi-chapter fic that my ADHD ass has ever finished. I love reading and writing, but for my entire life it has been just a struggle to sit down and stick to one project until completion. I carry the same curse that many, if not all content creators do, of having too many damn stories, ideas, prompts, characters, and worlds trapped in my head. Each and every one inspires me, and they’re all rolling around my head and constantly fighting with one another to get transcribed to page. Plus, I’m always rereading and rewriting my own stuff that I find the need to slap myself and say “It’s done, leave it alone and move on!” 

A large reason why it took so long to finish this story isn’t because of writer's block, in fact it's quite the opposite. I was working on other projects. Most of it is original content that I dream to have officially published one day, but I’ve got plenty of other mostly completed fanfics collecting dust on my computer’s hard drive that I also want to share. Most are from other fandoms, a few are some more stories I’ve written of Alex and The Farmer. But I’ve had this self-imposed rule on myself to not publish anything else until this fic was finished. This story meant a lot to me, and I didn’t want it to fall by the wayside. 

The whole reason I started writing this in the first place was actually to deal with a rejection. I’d spent three years of my life dancing around my feelings for this guy I was friends with. I was actually scared of getting too close to him, as bizarre as that may sound (shy kid nation rise up!). By the time I got up the courage to actually tell him how I felt and ask if we could be more than friends, he rejected me. I remember being absolutely devastated and shutting myself down. It literally felt like my life was over. I spent so long assuming he felt the same way, and it frustrated the hell out of me when he said no. I was frustrated because I didn’t want it to affect our friendship or for us to become those people that just never talk to each other now that my feelings were out in the open, but eventually it happened. I distanced myself because every time I saw him I had to tell myself that those years I’d spent daydreaming about our hypothetical relationship was never going to happen. 

I spent hours looking back and asking myself questions that kept me awake and wallowing in my own depressed thoughts until the sun rose. Around the same time though, I picked up Stardew Valley on a whim. Eventually, I turned it on and tried to use it as a way to distract myself. You can probably guess what happened after that. I played the game literally non-stop with a near-unhealthy obsession, losing myself in Pelican Town and my little virtual farm. My days were soon spent playing the game, and my nights spent outlining this fic until eventually I published the first chapter. 

It was therapeutic to be honest. I was able to type out all my own feelings and work through them via the characters. Plus I got to talk with all of you, see your reactions to my story, it helped me move on and look forward to other things in life, no longer focusing on my rejection. Plus if I never had any of this, never been rejected, I wouldn’t have met the love of my life, who commissioned the comic back in chapter 9. He’s been so wonderful, caring, patient, and just everything I ever needed in a partner. He beta reads all these chapters before they go out, and this fic’s completion is momentous to the both of us. 

Which brings me to the sequel! After the First Year had been planned long before I published chapter 1 of Sleepless Nights. I always had plots, ideas, shenanigans, and the like planned for The Farmer and Alex as an actual couple. I also have a couple of semi-small plot ideas that would involve everyone in town (Does anyone else recall the unfinished sub-plot with Morris and the Community Center, Vincent's near drowning, or any other other other threads I've left unfinished?). Sleepless Nights just kinda evolved into a romance about how Alex and The Farmer got together. The Junimos were actually a half-baked idea I threw in at the beginning and developed them kinda halfway through. I did go back in and eventually centralize everything to White, Red, Orange, Blue and Green. With those two plots going on, everything else I had planned was either cut or pushed aside so I figured that the end of the getting together arc was a good place to soft cap and end of the story for now. 

That being said, I don’t know how frequently I’ll be able to update it. No matter how much I love it and want to make a living off of it, writing is still just a hobby I do in my free time. I’m unfortunately no longer a college student, so my daily amount of free time is not as great as it used to be. After the First Year isn’t nearly as fleshed out as Sleepless Nights was when I started publishing Sleepless nights. There’s an overall metaplot, but there’s so much more fluff and self-indulgent fun I want to shove in there, that I don’t know how long it will be. If you noticed that I included Year 1 in the dates, it’s because I planned for events all the way through year 5 in my initial brainstorm. Sleepless Nights was actually based on my very first playthrough of the game, so a lot of my ideas for the story came from that. Linus literally walked into the map the second after I gave the bouquet to Alex, and it was so freaking funny to me that I had to include it somehow in this fic. 

I also relate to Concerned Ape when he said that he just keeps coming back to Stardew Valley. I own this game on three separate platforms, and have probably sunk literal months of my life into playing this game. It's been modded to hell and back, but every time the game comes out with an update, I'll start a new farm on vanilla and find myself romancing Alex once again (unless my boyfriend beats me to it in multiplayer lol).  I’ll keep updating this story no matter how much time passes, because I hold all of Pelican Valley near and dear to my heart. In the meantime I hope ya’ll will forgive me for stringing you along for a few more years, and if I publish some other things in the meantime. 

I hope to see you all on the other side when I publish the first chapter of After the First Year!