Chapter Text
SPRING | YEAR 1
The old cabin creaked around me, bending and moving in the island breeze. A broken shutter gently clapped against its damaged frame, pulling me from sleep. I groaned and pulled the blanket up over my head, but it was useless. The morning sun was relentless! It pierced through the threadbare fabric and rendered any additional sleep impossible. And the birds! So many fucking birds, singing a thousand different tunes at the same time, nested in the overgrown brush on my grandparents’ old farm. I simply had to face it: I would never be able to be one of those people who slept in.
So much for a new life, I thought begrudgingly.
I stumbled out of bed and into the tiny bathroom. Only a trickle of water ran from the tap as I twisted the knob. I’d have to fix that eventually, but at least it was enough to brush my teeth with. There was so much about the old house that needed fixing. And the more I added to the list, the more guilt I felt at leaving my poor grandfather to take care of it all for so long on his own. The poor man could only do so much.
My gaze settled on the chipped wall tiles as I stood there. They would have been beautiful once with their bright, tropical colors—ocean blues and palm green, pinkish coral and golden yellow. I imagine my Grandpa installing them while Grandma stood over him, fussing about which one should go where. The thought made me smile. They were always bickering in that cute, playful sort of way. The result of far too many years together.
I brushed back my dark hair and fixed it into a high ponytail. A little bit of sunblock and I was ready to go. I’d never had much time for any other cosmetics in my old life and it didn’t seem like becoming a farmer was going to change that.
My meager kitchen, if you could even call it that, consisted of a hot plate and some fresh produce laid out along the counter—worlds away from the kitchens I used to work in back in Pokyo. But I managed to fix up a little something and then I made my way out to the porch.
Grandpa’s farm was a disaster. A pang of guilt twisted in my gut as I surveyed the mess I’d had some part in creating. I should have visited more often and helped out when he needed me. I should have answered my phone every single time he called. Maybe then he could have told me that things were becoming too much for him to handle on his own.
But working in a kitchen was chaotic. I mean, absolute madness . There was no time to eat or sleep or even shower most days. So checking my phone was…impossible. That’s just how it was.
“Well, not anymore,” I grumbled before stuffing my mouth with a slice of grilled carrot.
The sheer depth of flavor coming from that one silly little carrot made me swoon. The produce grown on Coral Island was some of the best I’d ever had in my life! And I’d tried a lot of produce in my lifetime. Oh, I couldn’t wait to get the land cleared and be able to expand the small garden. The plates I could create…
My energy renewed, I changed into a pair of overalls and got to work. I worked well into the afternoon, clearing rocks and grass from around the small vegetable patch growing just outside the cabin door. But by the time the midday sun hit, I was completely drenched with sweat and far too overheated to go on. So, I grabbed a towel and started down the narrow trail south of the property toward the beach.
That part of the island was always quiet with only my farm, the forest, and the lighthouse inhabiting it. My only company on the journey were the birds and the bugs who sang their own harmonies from their hidden perches in the trees and grass. The ground was shaded and cool against my bare feet thanks to the canopy of palms above. Ugh, this was so much nicer than cutting through town.
I’d started avoiding the walk through town as soon as people began to take notice of me. It’s harder to blend in when only so many people reside there year round. They’d watch as I passed, whispering about the newcomer. But no one ever approached. I started to feel like the witch in those old stories people tell—the one who lives deep in the woods that everyone knows about but no one ever really knows at all.
So, I simply avoided the town square as much as possible.
The beach was empty that day except for the green-haired doctor who was relaxing with a book under a cluster of palms. Yulie? Yuki? Yuri...Definitely Yuri. She barely noticed as I passed by. I laid down my towel, cooled off in the surf, and then returned to lay out in the warm sun. My body ached after the hours of hard labor. But it felt good. So much better than I could have imagined when I stepped foot onto that old boat, heading for a life far different than the hectic mess I was leaving behind.
I closed my eyes and smiled. Then the warm sun, gentle waves, and gull songs lulled me into sleep.
“Hey!”
A gentle nudge startled me awake. I blinked and stared down at the culprit. One bare foot—tanned and wide from years of walking around without shoes—was poised in the air, ready to strike again if necessary. I traced it upward, my gaze trailing along its owner’s muscular calf, their thighs each thicker than my head, their perfectly sun-kissed abs and biceps that looked like they could crush me in a bear hug if they wanted to.
But there was nothing playful in the way their owner gazed down at me. Their expression was set, almost stern. “You’re in my way.”
“Oh? Uh…sorry.” I quickly climbed to my feet and bent to retrieve my towel. “Are these spots assigned or something?”
“What?” Their face scrunched up in confusion. “No. This is just where I stand. I’m the lifeguard here.”
I glanced to my left down the beach, seeing only the woman in the chair. To the right, I found no one. “Uh huh. And…exactly whose life are you guarding?”
They crossed their arms over their chest, and my attention was immediately diverted to their chiseled shoulders. Muscles like that had always been my weakness. “School is about to let out. And this beach is the place to be when you live on such a small island.”
I forced my gaze upward to meet their eye again. “Yeah, that makes sense. Well…happy guarding.”
After taking a few awkward steps away, something pulled me back: a gut feeling I couldn’t ignore. I needed to at least get their name.
“So…is there really nowhere else one could go to… I dunno, hang out?”
They cast me a sideward glance, seemingly surprised that I was still standing there. “Do you mean for the kids, or…?”
I felt my cheeks grow hot. “Oh! No, I mean for me.”
“Well, there’s always Fishensips for food and karaoke.”
“Oh, perfect! I love food!”
The slightest smile twitched at the corner of their full lips. “I recommend Frank’s pesto pasta. It’s the best around. There’s also Raj’s Coffee Corner right out front where most islanders go in the mornings. Their coffee is really good, or so I hear.”
So, they don’t drink coffee…
“And what’s your favorite place on the island?” I asked.
They turn toward me, their expression softening just a bit. “The hot springs, without a doubt. Nothing beats a hot soak after a hard workout.”
I swallowed hard, determined to not allow myself to imagine it. “That sounds amazing. I’ve been working so hard all morning trying to clear all these stupid rocks out of the garden and…” I trailed off, worried I might begin to ramble.
“Right. You’re the new farmer.”
“I’m Riley,” I said with a smile.
“Riley,” they repeated. Their voice was deep and a little gruff. I loved the sound of my name in their mouth. “I’m Chaem.”
But they didn’t move to shake my hand or anything. They still stood there, cross-armed, as their gaze flitted between me and the ocean.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Chaem. Could I…ask your pronouns?”
“She/her is fine,” she said. Then she chuckled. “Thanks for asking. Most people just assume. I guess the tourists aren’t used to seeing strong women.”
I hugged my towel to my chest with a chuckle. “Oh, trust me. I get it. Long hair and a little mascara and most people assume I’m a woman. Not all nonbinary people are androgynous.”
“Exactly! Do you use they/them?”
“I do,” I said with a nod. “But I wouldn’t punch someone for throwing a she in there now and again.”
Chaem nodded, amused. I dug my toes into the sand and wracked my brain for something to ask just to keep her talking. But she spoke up before I could think of anything.
“Well…I’d better get to work. It only takes a split second for somebody to get into trouble in the water. But I bet the Beach Shack has people in it if you want to chat.”
I glanced toward the little hut with a frown. “Oh, that’s all right. I…don’t really know anyone yet. But maybe I’ll see you at the Fishensips sometime?”
“Sure,” she said simply. “See you.”
"Yeah. See you."
I backed away with a wave of my hand and turned on my heel to plod off through the sand. Chaem was...direct. A little gruff. But she'd been friendy, right? I couldn't have imagined it. As I passed by, Yuri lowered the corner of her book just enough to shoot me a playful smirk. She’d heard every word, I was sure of it. Heat flooded my face and I walked faster just to get the heck out of there.
The longer I walked, the more foolish I felt. By the time I reached the cabin, I was certain that I’d been blinded by muscles and that I’d ignored every sign that Chaem had little to no interest in talking to me. I was always doing that!
But after years of all work and very little play, I was starved for attention. I finally had time for socialization. I was ready for friendship. And, if I was lucky, for love. Coming to this island was supposed to be my chance at a better life. And I wasn’t creating it by keeping myself cooped up in that old cabin. I needed to put myself out there!
So, I cleaned myself up and picked out my cutest outfit. And as the sun began to set, I made my way across the bridge and into town for some dinner at Fishensips.