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Long stalks of corn stood in the distance while the humidity enveloped the cluster of farms that lay outside of Musutafu. A hint of sweetness hung in the air as a summer breeze wound its way around barns and farmhouses. Himiko the hen spun in circles around Ochako’s feet as she stared at her chicken like she was the most interesting thing in the world. Ochako had to avoid looking over the other side of the fence.
Because the last thing she wanted was to stare at her new neighbor for a little too long and scare Kendou away with out-of-control bi-panic TM .
Beady gold eyes drilled into Ochako as the hen nodded across the fence. Digging her teeth into her lower lip, Ochako frantically shook her head and cast a handful of corn onto the ground. Maybe some food would distract Himiko from meddling with Ochako’s love life.
Besides, Himiko was a chicken. She swallowed pebbles for God’s sake. She’d rip out the feathers of the other hens in the coup and squawk with glee until Ochako relented and the temperamental chicken lived inside the farmhouse. Though Ochako had to admit that Himiko’s strategy of leaving the floorboards coated in blood until she got her way was kind of smart. Definitely smarter than anyone would expect a bird with a brain the size of a lima bean to have.
Because yeah, maybe Himiko had a point about Kendou. Beneath the searing summer sub, red hair glowed like fire – the comforting controlled kind. Like flames confined to a fireplace. Biceps bulged as Kendou rolled a tire across the meadow toward a weathered tractor parked beneath an oak. Ochako heard herself noticeably gulp at the sight of Kendou’s muscles. Sure, Ochako did drive into the city for some martial arts lessons a couple times a week, making her arms the furthest thing from scrawny… but wow, Kendou’s guns sure were something else.
Blushing as bright red as a bushel of tomatoes at a farmer’s market, Ochako pulled her straw hat over her face. Staring at her reflection in a puddle of muddy water, Ochako frowned at her brown eyes and hair. So plain. Exasperated, Ochako let the last kernels of corn remaining in her palm tumble onto the ground. Yeah, her hot neighbor was definitely out of her league.
And she fixed old tractors in her freetime – goddamnit what a badass pastime. How on Earth was Ochako supposed to compete with that when she spent day in and day out scooping up chicken poop and making sure yolk from cracked eggs hadn’t leaked all over the coup’s floor?
Shuffling across the dirt, Himiko raced toward Ochako and started pecking violently at her shoes. Gasping indignantly, Ochako wondered what on earth had possessed Himiko to turn on her. The corn hadn’t been stale, right?
Ochako ran a sweaty hand through her hair and let out an aggrieved sigh. Part of her wanted to lock Himiko away in a box for a couple of hours so she could have just to have a brief moment of reprieve from Himiko racing around like she’d just downed a six-pack of coke. Still, locking up Himiko would be animal abuse – and Ochako wasn’t that kind of chicken owner.
Also, it wasn’t as if Himiko had managed to peck Ochako’s toes bloody anyhow. Thank goodness for sturdy rubber boots. And the boots had been such a steal too. She suspected that her parents would’ve been proud of her thriftiness if they were still around. Smiling to herself, she looked over her shoulder at the farmhouse with pastel blue paint peeling off its exterior. Rocking chairs that smelled faintly of juniper swayed upon the front porch. And Ochako could still picture the steam from her mother’s apple pie steaming out of the kitchen window.
The farm wasn’t much but it was hers . It was her parent’s legacy. A place full of laughter even when there had only been enough money for oil to keep the heater running for half of January when Ochako was twelve. It was the sort of small haven that had persevered through every drought. And Ochako was more than willing to carry on that torch even if it meant dealing with a hen that insisted on pressing her to ask the farmer next door out.
Jumping high enough to swipe her beak at one of Ochako’s calves, Himiko stared up at Ochako expectantly. Even though Himiko couldn’t speak, based on her eye roll Ochako could practically hear what she was thinking.
Too chicken to ask her out?
Straightening her back, Ochako took a deep breath and settled her feet into a grounded stance like she was prepared to brace herself for a fight headed her way. Listening to the sound of tractor oil in the distance, Ochako made a beeline for the shared fence while Himiko hopped up and down.
Ochako had gotten up from the floor of the martial arts studio so many times after being knocked down. But getting ridiculed by a hen? Ochako had no clue if that was the sort of defeat she could realistically recover from.
Yet as soon as Ochako was within two meters of the fence her knees locked in place. Her stomach turned with somersaults and she half-expected herself to weightlessly float away over the nausea. But her feet remained firmly settled on the grass – unable to move.
Who was she kidding? Maybe she was a chicken. After all, she was twenty-fucking-one so asking a cute girl if she would want to go pick apples or watch a movie together shouldn’t have been so impossible. But what if she had nothing in common with Kendou?
Ochako raised chickens and Kendou grew crops. Not much overlap. Sure, Kendou’s athletic stance as she lifted up a car battery signaled that she worked out. Still, maybe Kendou preferred cardio and would think that Ochako’s interest in martial arts was weird. Sighing, Ochako slouched over and tightened her hands around her overall straps. Best to avoid interacting in the first place and spare herself any sort of humiliation.
But before Ochako even had a chance to take one step back in the direction of the chicken coup, pale feathers fluttered past her. Rivaling the speed of light, Himiko raced toward the fence, leaving splinters flying around her as she burst through it. Astonished, Ochako gawked at the busted boards while Himiko clucked at the wreckage she had made. Even more surprising was that despite the state she had left the fence in, Himiko hardly had a feather out of place.
Still, the tension in Ochako’s shoulders dissipated since she could see that Himiko was alright. Goodness gracious, that hen was destined to give Ochako gray hairs someday.
A wrench clattered onto the ground as Kendou hurried over to the epicenter of the chaos. Turquoise eyes glittered like sea glass as Kendou danced past the wreckage. Ochako tried to draw her gaze away from Kendou’s chest since… it took a certain type of assets to make something as simple as a plaid shirt look that flattering.
“Everything alright here?”
Straining her lips into a smile, Ochako barely refrained from sending Himiko a death glare. How far was that crazy chicken willing to go amid her attempts at playing Cupid? And were Ochako’s wistful glances over the fence really so obvious that even a hen had noticed.
“Yeah, mostly. Sorry, my chicken ran through the fence.”
Furrowing her brows, Kendou knelt down beside Himiko and stared at her wings. “Is she alright?”
“Yes, Himiko isn’t hurt, thank goodness.” Ochako could sense all the heat rushing to her face and bowed abruptly in hopes that her neighbor wouldn’t notice. “I am incredibly sorry. I promise this will never happen again.”
“Don’t fret it.” Kendou patted Ochako on the back with just a teensy bit too much force. “Heaven knows how fickle farming and such can be. Like sometimes I’ll grow a batch of tomatoes where half of them are too dry and the rest taste awfully sour. I bet chickens are just as finicky.”
Piroquetted as she leaped over splinters, Himiko squawked mischievously. Shaking her head, Ochako gave Kendou a defeated shrug. “Himiko is definitely a very special kind of hen.”
“Can’t say I’m mad about that. After all, she brought you over here.”
“Yeah, I guess she did.”
Nodding to herself, Kendou reached up to tighten the hair tie holding her ponytail together and her arms looked even more toned in the process. Sending Ochako a knowing grin, Kendou gestured toward a tool shed on her side of the wrecked fence.
“But seriously don’t worry about the fence. Fixing stuff is kind of a hobby of mine.”
Footsteps that were simultaneously lithe and commanding sounded as Kendou’s combat boots thudded across the ground. Part of Ochako wanted to race back to her house and pretend that her heart wasn’t racing kudos to Himiko’s matchmaking shenanigans. Still, Ochako clenched her fists and took a step closer toward Kendou. Because who knew when the next time Ochako could build up the courage to talk to her would be.
“Uh, maybe we could fix the fence… together?”
Beaming brightly, Kendou’s voice dripped like honey. “Sure, hun.”
In the toolshed, Ochako could already feel the saliva pooling in her mouth at the sight of Kendou swinging a heavy toolkit over her shoulder. Without thinking, Ochako blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“You’re strong.”
Elbowing Ochako in the biceps, Kendou chuckled. “I’m guessing you’re not so bad yourself, hun. Where do you work out?”
Biting her tongue, Ochako wasn’t sure if getting into her hobbies would be a good idea. What if it made a lack of compatibility with Kendou more apparent? Then again, Ochako had a feeling that Himiko would leave literal shit on her bedsheets if she didn’t give connecting with Kendou a good honest try.
“Gunhead’s martial arts studio.”
“Awesome, I heard he’s really good. I’m mostly self-taught.” Kendou sliced through the air with a clean chop, leaving Ochako stunned. A controlled and precise movement. More than impressive for someone who had learned it from videos or books.
Firm grip on the toolkit, Kendou leaned in toward Ochako. “Do you think I have what it takes to attend classes there?”
“Definitely,” Ochako said without hesitation.
“Well, aren’t you a sweetheart?”
Back outdoors, Himiko expectantly waited on an intact fence post and shook out her feathers. As the hen held her chin high, Ochako could imagine Himiko bragging. See what you get from growing some guts? You get to hang out with a cute girl all because of my expert matchmaking skills.
Ochako wasn’t sure how Himiko would have been an expert though unless she had a track record of convincing her fellow hens to date each other. What would chickens even do on a date anyways? Peck at the same kernel of corn?
Resurfacing from her train of thought, Ochako anchored herself back to the present. The sound of nails impacting wood. The way Kendou pressed her lips together in concentration. The weight of the damaged boards Ochako carried in her arms. Silence weighed heavily but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. Instead, sitting quietly beside Kendou and gathering up wood splinters was like sitting in an empty meadow full of daisies.
It felt like home somehow.
As the last plank of the fence was set into place and Kendou shut the toolbox, dread swelled in Ochako’s stomach. She wasn’t ready for the moment to end just yet despite the possibility of Kendou attending her martial art classes.
Ochako cleared her throat.“So, you’re refurbishing that tractor, right?”
“Hell yeah, I am.”
“Could you use an extra set of hands?”
“Always,” Kendou said.
Kendou’s soft grin made Ochako’s stomach melt away into a gooey mess. And as Ochako pulled off her hat so she could get a better look at the smooth curves of Kendou’s face, she decided that maybe it was worthwhile to crawl out of her spiral of overthinking a little more often.