Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“...To my sons, Nahyuta Sahdmadhi and Apollo Justice, I bequeath the farm in Stardew Valley. There may come a time when life is beating you down, when the whole world is trying to snuff out your fiery spirits, and you’re in dire need of a change. If that day comes, the farm will be waiting for you. I know you have your hearts set on the law, but don’t knock ‘til you try it! There’s more to life than red tape and bureaucracy. The farm gave me purpose at a time I had none, and I know it could do the same for you – but of course, I hope you never need it. 

Keep fighting, my sons! The blood of a dragon burns within you, and I know whatever you do, wherever you end up, you’ll make your old man proud.” 

SPRING

The property was in an even worse state than Apollo was expecting. The mayor had warned him it was a fixer-upper, but it was another seeing it for himself. 

The grass was overgrown, the ground was littered with large rocks and fallen logs, the barn and coop had fallen into disrepair, and the greenhouse’s glass walls had shattered into tiny pieces – and that’s just what he could see from the entryway. Large trees had sprouted up through the overgrowth and blocked his view of the south border, thus making the property look more like a forest than an old farm. Only the farmhouse seemed habitable, and Apollo suspected it was because someone fixed it up when they heard he was moving in. 

“It's not as bad as it looks, pal!” Mr. Gumshoe said as he clapped him on the shoulder. “There's a lot of fertile land beneath all that debris, so I'm sure with a little hard work and elbow grease, you'll have this place up and running in no time!” 

Apollo watched a crow fly out of the hole in the barn roof. “Right.” 

He had only been here for ten minutes, and he was already regretting his decision to leave his old life behind. He was tempted to hop on the bus and head right back to Zuzu City, but his pride kept him rooted in place. He would never be able to look Nahyuta in the eye again if he gave up this soon. 

“It’s been a long time since someone lived here. It’s been abandoned my entire tenure as mayor,” Mr. Edgeworth mused. “It’ll be nice to see it up and running again.”

“Awww, you getting sentimental on us, sir?” Mr. Gumshoe flashed him a grin, to which Mr. Edgeworth rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I merely think some thriving agriculture will help stimulate the local economy – something that should be of concern to you, given your trade.” 

“Oh that reminds me!” Mr. Gumshoe turned back to Apollo. “If you need help fixing up those buildings – or hell, putting up new ones – then I’m your man! Just drop by my workshop anytime. If you head north from the community centre, you can’t miss it.” 

“And if you need help with anything else, my home is on the southside of town, right above the entrance to the beach,” Mr. Edgeworth added. “We’ve put together a small welcome basket for you that I hope will help you settle in. Otherwise, if you have any questions or need help getting situated, you only need to ask.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth, Mr. Gumshoe.” Apollo nodded at each of them in turn. 

Mr. Edgeworth looked over the farm, a wistful expression on his face. “The local community was very kind to me at a time when I thought I did not deserve it. I hope it brings you a similar peace.” 

Apollo’s stomach sank, and he pressed his lips together. Neither of them asked why he had come here, and he had no plans on telling them. He did have to wonder how much they had assumed about his motivations though, if Mr. Edgeworth was making little comments like that. 

Admittedly, he was looking for peace, and was so desperate for it that he was willing to move to a farm in the middle of nowhere in the hopes of finding it, but whether or not that was something he could find here remained to be seen. Maybe Nahyuta was right and upending his life like this was a hasty, emotionally-driven mistake. Only time, in its relentless march onwards, would tell. 

“Thank you. I hope so too.” 

Mr. Gumshoe grinned and clapped him hard on the shoulder once more. “Welcome to the Valley, pal!” 

Apollo knew that moving to a farm was going to involve a lot of manual labour, and yet he still hadn't been prepared for how much work it was going to be. Unpacking all of his belongings was tiring enough on its own, but clearing away the debris that littered the farm was a whole other level of exhaustion. 

For his first real attempt at farming, he decided to start small. There were several packets of parsnip seeds included in his welcome basket – “to help you get started” according to the note – and there was no sense in letting them go to waste. He found some old tools in the dusty cellar, and got to work clearing up some space by the small pond just in front of his house. 

Hacking away the weeds with his scythe and tilling the land with his hoe was cathartic in a way he wasn’t expecting. He didn’t know how badly he needed to whack at something until he felt the release. Life had been… difficult lately, to say the least, and there was a heaviness in his chest that never seemed to lighten up. Anger and grief rolled inside him like a storm, and getting to expend some of that emotion, even for a morning, was a weight off his shoulders. By the time he was done, his arms were tired and sore, and his body and soul were numb. 

However, as exhausted as he felt, the seeds weren’t going to plant themselves. 

When Apollo decided to move to a farm, he bought a farmer’s almanac to use as a guide. Following the instructions closely, he dug little holes in regular intervals along his freshly tilled rows, dropped the seeds in, and then covered them with the loose topsoil. He filled his watering can in the pond, and lightly sprinkled them with water. Parsnips grew fast, according to his almanac, so hopefully it wouldn’t be long until they were fully sprouted and he could start making a little money. 

“What are you planting?” 

Apollo shrieked and dropped his watering can at the sudden voice, spilling water all over his rubber boots. His head snapped up, and only then did he notice the young teenage girl watching him from the other side of the parsnip patch. Her brown hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she was dressed in short denim overalls. She wore her own pair of rubber boots, and based on the dirt and scuff marks, they had seen far more use than Apollo’s fresh-out-of-the-box green ones. 

“Don’t scare me like that!” Apollo picked up his fallen watering can, refilled it in the pond, and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart. 

“Whoops!” the girl exclaimed, but she didn’t sound particularly apologetic. “What are you planting? I’ve never seen anyone plant anything up here before.” She crouched down, folded her arms over her knees, and stared at the ground as if she could figure out what kind of seeds they were with a closer look. 

Apollo wasn’t sure what to make of this random girl who had invited herself onto his property, but as long as she didn’t disturb anything, then he supposed there was no harm in letting her watch for now. “Yeah, I just moved in.” He resumed his watering. “They’re parsnips. The mayor gave me the seed packets, so….” 

“Mr. Edgeworth did say something to Daddy about a new farmer moving in, but I was hoping for something a little more exciting than parsnips.”

Apollo shot her a look. “What did you expect me to plant? Venus fly traps?” 

Her eyes lit up. “Ooooh yes! You should plant venus fly traps next! I’ve always wanted one of those!” 

“...I think I’m going to stick with parsnips, thanks.” 

“But I don’t like parsnips.” The girl frowned. “You should plant something sweeter – like melons. Ooooh, or grapes! Daddy loves grapes!” 

Apollo was pretty sure both of those were out of season, but he was far more concerned with why this girl seemed to think he was going to choose his crop yield based on her and her father’s personal preferences. He looked at her, exasperated. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 

The girl beamed and stood back up. “I’m Trucy! I’m your neighbour!” She pointed to the southside of the farm. Apollo couldn’t see the house through the overgrown trees, but he knew from his walk around the perimeter yesterday that there was a small ranch next door. 

“Oh yeah. I think there were some eggs and milk from your ranch in my welcome basket.” 

“Yep! That’s us! Mr. Edgeworth came by all the local businesses asking if there was anything we’d like to give you. We don’t sell animal products usually – just the animals themselves – but Mr. Edgeworth wouldn’t let us put a live chicken in the basket. I’m not allowed to pull live animals out of those anymore – or out of hats, or sleeves, or any sort of magical interdimensional space for that matter.” 

Apollo didn’t even know what to say to that. “Right.” 

“But maybe you can buy a chicken from us some time! Although, your coop is looking a little wonky….” 

‘Wonky’ was an understatement. The farm buildings were so derelict that he was genuinely worried they would collapse at any moment. The roof at least hadn’t caved in yet which was more than he could say about the barn, but he feared it was only a matter of time. Fixing those were a priority, but he was going to have to sell a lot of parsnips before he could afford to pay Mr. Gumshoe for the repairs. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Finished with his watering, Apollo took a step back. “But look, I have a lot of things I need to do today, so….” he trailed off, hoping she would take the hint, but apparently that was too much to ask. 

“But you haven’t told me your name yet!” 

“It’s Apollo, and I’m really busy–”

“Have you explored Pelican Town yet?” 

“Well, no, but–”

“I can show you around if you want!” She smiled sweetly. 

Trucy, as he was quickly learning, was an unstoppable force of nature, and while Apollo had often been described as an immovable object himself, he already knew which one of them was going to give in first. He was so worn out from his chores that morning that he didn’t have the energy to argue, and he definitely didn’t have the energy for more manual labour, so perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to humour her. At the very least, it would be nice to have a guide – a quirky teenage guide, but a guide nonetheless. 

“I… okay,” Apollo relented. 

“Yippee!” Trucy ran towards him, grabbed his wrist, and began yanking him towards the southern entrance on the opposite side of the farm. “We should get going if we want to catch everyone before their stores close!” 

Apollo, for the second time in as many days, caught himself wondering why he had decided to move here. 

Trucy’s tour of the town was a non-stop whirlwind of names and faces, and Apollo had forgotten half of them by the time she had finished. 

Their first stop was the Wright Family Ranch to meet Trucy’s father – a cryptic man in a hoodie and beanie who Apollo swears trained that chicken to bite him on purpose. He was the kind of person who never said what he thought and never told you what you asked for, and he had the kind of smile that projected he knew nothing and everything all at once. Apollo knew within five minutes of meeting him that working with him was going to be a headache and a half. 

Then, Trucy led him eastwards into the town proper, and past a neat row of houses that made up a small residential area. Trucy had named the residents of every home they passed, but there were too many people to keep track of that the only one that stuck in his memory was Mr. Edgeworth’s large house at the end. 

They crossed the bridge over the river towards the museum (which Apollo had been excited about until Trucy informed him the exhibits were largely empty), and Blackquill’s Blacksmith (the easiest name to remember yet). Simon Blackquill himself was an imposing, intimidating man who did not take kindly to new people – or people in general, for that matter – and Apollo intended to keep his interactions with him to an absolute minimum. He would need to upgrade his tools eventually, but he dropped that item down a couple places on his to-do list. 

They headed north, passing the smallest movie theatre Apollo had ever seen, and then crossed back over the river into the centre of town. In a community as small as this one, the majority of businesses had congregated around the town square. Trucy pointed out the doctor’s office and Kitaki’s Inn as places of particular note, but the only building they entered was the General Store. 

Old Mrs. Woods’s General Store had been a staple of Stardew Valley for decades, he had been informed, but due to Mrs. Woods’s declining health, it was mostly run by her granddaughter Juniper, and Juniper’s girlfriend Athena. The girls weren’t much older than college students – Athena had even bragged about the online psychology course she was taking – but Juniper was kind enough to give him some farming tips and Athena treated him like they had been friends for years, so they quickly became Apollo’s favourite residents so far. 

By the time he and Trucy reached the end of the tour, Apollo was sore from being on his feet all day. When Trucy suggested they rest in the park by the community centre, he eagerly jumped at the chance to sit down. 

“And thus concludes Trucy's Showstopping Non-Stop Tour of Pelican Town!” Trucy announced as she plopped down on the swingset and began kicking her feet back and forth. There were perfectly good benches by the fountain, Apollo noticed, but Trucy wanted to sit on the swings so they sat on the swings. “If you had to rate the tour out of five stars, how many would you give me?” 

Apollo raised a brow. “You want me to rate you?”

“How else will I know how to improve future tours?” 

Apollo didn’t think there would be future tours – he assumed Trucy dragging him all over town was a one-off experience for the both of them – but upon reflection, he couldn’t fault her. “I’ll give you the full five.” Trucy preened at the praise. “I wasn’t expecting you to know literally everyone.” 

“Everybody knows everybody in small towns.” Trucy shrugged. 

That was what Apollo had always heard, but it was another seeing it in person. Friendly close-knit neighbourhoods like this were so foreign to him. He didn’t even know the names of half his neighbours in his old apartment building back in Zuzu City, and yet Trucy knew the residents of most houses they passed. 

“Besides,” Trucy continued, “I wouldn’t say I know everybody – just the people who come to the Kitaki’s every week and who go to all the festivals. Oh!” She perked up. “You should come to the Kitaki’s Inn on Friday! Everybody hangs out there on the weekends so you can meet a bunch of people, and,” she leaned in with a conspiratorial smile, “Klavier Gavin will be performing!” 

“I don’t know who that is.” 

Trucy gasped. “You don’t know Klavier Gavin?” 

“...Is that one of the people you introduced me to?” He wracked his brain for the face that matched the name, but he couldn’t recall Trucy even mentioning him before, and it was such a unique name that he liked to think it would have stuck out. 

“No, silly! He's a musician!” Trucy frowned. “I thought you were from the city. Shouldn’t you be cultured and stuff?” 

“Living in the city doesn’t mean I know every local musician!” 

Trucy’s frown didn’t falter, and she stared at him long and hard. “...Huh, I guess you really don’t know Klavier Gavin.” 

Considering he had lived in Stardew Valley for only a couple days at that point, he didn’t think his lack of knowledge on local entertainers would be such an issue, but Trucy was so surprised that she had him wondering if he was missing something. Although, now that he thought about it, that name did sound vaguely familiar…. “Should I?” 

“Hm. I guess not.” Trucy brightened back up again. “But that’s even more reason why you should come to Kitaki’s with us on Friday! He’s really dreamy, you know – and his guitar’s purple!” 

“The two things I look for in a musician,” Apollo drawled. 

“Soooooo, are you coming?” 

Apollo wasn’t sure he was ready to be around that many people in a social context yet – especially at an event where he didn’t really know anyone – but Trucy had a smile that was difficult to refuse. “Maybe, if I have time.” 

Trucy seemed to take that as a resounding yes. “It’ll be fun! And you never know – maybe you’ll make some new friends!” 

A sharp pain struck his chest, intense enough to steal the breath from his lungs, and it took everything in him not to visibly react. It was a kind sentiment, but making new friends was not on the agenda for him – not when he was still struggling to get over the old one. 

“Maybe.” His voice came out more strained than he wanted to. 

Trucy eyed him curiously, but if she noticed the distress he was desperately trying to hide, she had the tact not to ask. Instead, she plastered on a smile and hopped off the swings. “Have you been to Mr. Gumshoe’s workshop yet? It’s just north of here, so I can show you if you like!”

Apollo took the suggestion for the distraction it was intended to be, and stood up after her. “I thought the tour was over?” 

“It’s a showstopping non-stop tour, remember? It never ends! Now come on. If we hurry, then maybe I can show you the train that runs through the Valley!” 

Trucy grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him off towards the mountains. 

The Kitaki’s Inn was located in the centre of Pelican Town, and was every bit as busy as Trucy said it would be. Half the barstools were occupied, and there wasn’t an empty table in the house. Apollo could spot Mr. Gumshoe and his wife huddled together around one table, and Simon Blackquill was brooding alone at another. Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth were sitting together, having a spirited debate over a bottle of what Apollo thought was wine until he caught a glimpse of the label and realised it was only juice. (Huh, Mr. Wright really did love his grapes.)

He scanned the interior for the only familiar face he felt comfortable talking to, and found Trucy hanging out around a pool table with a bunch of her friends – Athena, Juniper, and a fourth teenage girl in pink and purple robes Apollo had yet to meet – and his plan to stick with her died before it began. They looked like they were having fun, giggling together and shooting the cue ball around the table, and he didn’t want to intrude. A burst of loneliness panged within him, but he buried it down deep and took a seat at the bar. He was feeling that way more often than not lately. 

When he sat down, the bartender came by to take his order – a tall broad-shouldered man with thick brows and greying hair. 

“Just a beer, thanks,” Apollo requested, shrugging off his jacket. “Whatever you have on tap.”

The man, presumably the titular Mr. Kitaki, held out a hand. “ID.” 

“I’m twenty-four!” Apollo spluttered, but Mr. Kitaki didn’t budge. His silence was more intimidating than anything he could have said, and Apollo showed him his license without further argument. 

Mr. Kitaki poured him a pint, and then trudged off to tend to another customer further down the bar. 

As Apollo sipped on his drink and waited for the show to start, he idly looked around the inn. A woman with a key in her hair was drinking with a woman in a labcoat. Another woman in purple robes returned from the bathroom and sat down next to Mr. Wright, only to be immediately dragged into his debate with Mr. Edgeworth. While the inn didn’t have a stage per se, it did have an empty corner with a microphone and a guitar amp, and there was a man in a garish pink and gold jacket doing a soundcheck by periodically dropping lines of freestyle rap into the mic. Nobody paid him any attention. 

He hadn’t been waiting long when the door swung open and a man with a guitar case stepped in. He didn’t need Trucy’s guidance to know this was Klavier Gavin.

He was tall and lean, and carried himself with an easy confidence that drew the eye and shifted the atmosphere; when Klavier Gavin entered the room, you felt it. He was dressed in a deep V-neck t-shirt, leather jacket, and tight ripped jeans, and his blonde hair cascaded down his shoulder in a neat braid. Between the light makeup, and the copious amount of jewellery – multiple ear piercings, rings, and a heavy chain around his neck – he looked like someone Apollo would have ran into in the city rather than sleepy little Pelican Town, all glitz and glamour and shine. 

He’s really dreamy, you know, Trucy’s words echoed in his mind. Apollo supposed that he was. 

If he had to put a word to it, anyway. 

Not that he was looking at him in that way, of course. 

Klavier glided across the room towards the staging area, and had a brief conversation with the man in the garish jacket. After a moment, the man pounded Klavier’s fist, and then grabbed a tray from the bar and set off to collect the empty bottles and glasses from the surrounding tables. Klavier sat on the provided stool and began to set himself up. 

There was some feedback from the amp as Klavier plugged in his guitar, and then he assaulted their eardrums again with a few experimental strums. Apollo winced at the sudden loud sound, but it seemed he wasn’t the only one as the surrounding conversation grinded to a halt. Klavier lightly tapped into the mic and counted into it in German (confirming Apollo’s suspicions that he wasn’t from around here either), and once he was satisfied it was working to his liking, he readied himself to perform. 

Klavier took a moment to survey the inn, looking at each patron in turn, until his gaze, for some reason, settled on Apollo. His eyes widened as if surprised to see someone new in attendance, and he flashed him a smile, big and bright. 

Apollo quickly looked into his glass, ears burning. He didn’t know why he was so embarrassed to be caught staring. It wasn’t like it was a crime to watch a performer, and yet….

“Guten Abend, Stardew Valley!” 

Klavier’s accented voice rang through the speakers. The audience welcomed him with polite applause, except for Trucy and Athena who seemed to think they were at an actual rock concert and yelled their support from across the inn. 

“I’ve got a lovely little set for you tonight. As always, please don’t take any pictures or videos of the performance, and please don’t post about the show on social media. Let’s keep this our little secret, ja?” He winked. 

Apollo felt that request was counterintuitive for someone who presumably made their livelihood through local gigs like this one, but he did as he was told and kept his phone tucked away in his pocket – not that he was the type to record shows anyway. 

“Ach, I’ve kept you waiting long enough. Let’s start off with a bang! Here’s Guilty Love.” 

And with that, Klavier started to play. 

The guitar was far too loud, was Apollo's first thought, but he supposed he shouldn’t have expected balanced audio mixing from a venue that didn’t have a proper stage. Klavier had a nice voice from what he could tell, but the guitar so thoroughly drowned it out that he couldn’t make out half the lyrics. There was something about it that sounded oddly familiar, however, and he was sure he had heard this song somewhere before….

And then it hit him like a knife to the chest. 

This was Clay’s old ringtone. This was the song that played every time he got a call. This was that band he liked that Apollo thought sounded like a set of car keys caught in the garbage disposal, the one he always tried to switch away from when they played on the radio and Clay would bat his hand away because the driver gets to pick the tunes, ‘Pollo. 

The Gavinners. 

Is that why Trucy was so surprised that he didn’t know who Klavier Gavin was? Because he was a member of one of the most popular bands in the world? (Before their break up about a year ago, anyway – something Apollo only knew about because of how much it had devastated Clay at the time.)

Klavier’s voice surrounded him on all sides, and memories of his best friend swarmed him like piranhas, and suddenly Apollo couldn’t breathe. 

The problem with grief was that it was insidious. It sneaked up on him when he least expected it, slipped in between his ribs, and pierced him right through the heart. All it took was a few bars of Clay’s favourite song, and he was bent over the bar, gritting his teeth and fighting back tears and trying not to break down in a public place. 

The inn around him was merry and light. Trucy twirled around the pool table, dancing with the teen he didn’t know. Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth’s heads were bent close together in hushed conversation while their friend in the purple robes bopped along to the music next to them. Even brooding Blackquill wasn’t left alone as Athena bounded up to him and pulled him into their games. 

The dissonance was disorienting, and everybody had somebody to love, and Apollo was stuck on an island in the middle of it, completely and utterly alone. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He stood up too abruptly, his barstool screeching across the floor. He grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the inn with his head bowed to avoid making eye contact with anyone on his way out. Klavier’s voice followed him through the door and long into the cold night. 

There was a letter in his mailbox – no address, hand delivered. 

AJ, 

Come to the pier before noon

I’ve got a surprise for you 

;)

It wasn’t signed, but Apollo knew who it was from anyway. There was only one person who called him AJ, and it was only a matter of time before they reached out. Once Apollo completed his morning chores, he headed down to the beach. 

Apollo hadn’t been down to the beach yet, precisely because he had been avoiding this particular figure from his past. He passed a small beach house on his way – one built right on the line where the grass met the sand, just far enough back to avoid damage from the rising tide. The gentle strumming of a guitar drifted out the open window, but Apollo paid it no mind. His appointment was further down the shore. 

Apollo walked down the wooden deck of the pier towards the small fishing shack where he assumed he would find his correspondent, and sure enough, perched on a rocking chair on the porch, was his old family friend Datz. 

“AJ! Long time no see!” He stood up, and flashed Apollo a toothy grin. 

Datz hadn’t changed a bit in the decade since Apollo had seen him last. He was even still dressed in his old military jacket, despite the fact he hadn’t served in years. “Hi, Datz.” 

“When I heard someone was moving into your old man’s old farm, I couldn’t believe it. And then when I found out it was you? I almost dropped from the shock, then and there!” He slung an arm around his shoulders, and Apollo bristled. “I never thought I’d see you or Yuty in Stardew Valley. Last I checked, you wanted nothing to do with it. What changed your mind?” 

The boom of an explosion. Fire, lots of fire, and too much blood. The steady beeps of a heart monitor. The feeling of a cold lifeless hand in his. A dreary funeral on a rainy Sunday. 

“I just… wanted a change of scenery,” Apollo said vaguely, and pushed Datz’s arm away. 

Datz, a veteran, knew better than to pry into such things and pivoted away. “Man, if only Dhurke could see you now. It broke his heart when he had to leave the farm behind. He’ll be so proud to see one of you boys take up the mantle.”

Apollo shifted on his feet. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought of Dhurke’s opinion at all. It never even crossed his mind. “Right.” 

“Is it what you remembered it being?” 

“I mean… I was four when he moved us into the city, so I don’t remember it at all. I feel like it didn’t look that run down twenty years ago though.” 

“Yeah, it’s a dump now, huh?” Datz laughed. “But that’s what you’re here for, right? You’ll have it looking like a million bucks in no time! Better than Dhurke had it, even. You’ve always been an overachiever.” 

“Your letter said you had a surprise for me?” Apollo cut in, perhaps a little rudely, but he didn’t come here to reminisce. He had avoided talking to Datz until now precisely because he didn’t want to reminisce. 

It’s what he liked about Nahyuta. He never dwelled in the past. 

Datz snapped his fingers. “Right! I’ve got a gift for you – something to help you earn a little extra change while you’re getting the farm up and running.” 

He stepped into the hut for a moment, and came out with a fishing rod and a bucket of bait. 

Apollo didn’t know why he had expected anything different. “A fishing rod?” 

“Yup!” Datz grinned. “Me and Dhurke used to sit on the beach for hours fishing back in the good old days. We talked all the time about taking you boys on a proper fishing trip someday, but… well, it wasn’t meant to be.” 

Apollo took the rod from him and frowned. “But I don’t know how to fish.” 

“I’ll teach you! Come on, it’s easy!” Datz took him to the edge of the dock, and showed him how to apply bait onto his rod, cast the line, and reel it in. 

It took the rest of the day for Apollo to master it well enough that he could catch a fish without Datz’s help, but he knew he would get better at it with time. For now, he was relieved to have another method for making money while he waited for his crops to grow. 

He wondered, briefly, if this is what it would have been like if Dhurke hadn’t moved them out to the city and caught that terrible illness, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind. He was being followed by enough ghosts lately. He didn’t need to welcome another. 

One of the things Trucy had explained to him when he first moved in was that Stardew Valley had a lot of festivals. There were two every season – one mid-season, and one at the end – though occasionally Mr. Edgeworth or somebody else in town would organise a smaller event in between the larger annual ones. The festivals were a time of unity, where the entire town was brought together through celebration and friendly competition, where neighbours could connect with neighbours over a drink and a warm meal, and where even the loneliest of residents could find friendship and family. 

Apollo wasn’t interested in any of that. 

He had learned one thing from his visit to the Kitaki’s Inn: he was not ready for socialisation or large groups of people. 

He should have known, really. He wasn’t the biggest fan of parties even before Clay’s untimely death. He had always felt socially awkward in large gatherings, and typically wallflowered in the corner while Clay made friends with everyone he met. He didn’t mind attending them anyway because his best friend was there, and as long as his best friend was there, he knew he would have a good time, but… well, he didn’t have Clay to lean on anymore. 

Apollo didn’t want to have another public breakdown just because he saw something that reminded him of Clay. He had no intention of going to whatever festival Pelican Town hosted mid-Spring, and would have been more than happy to spend the day at home alone, but….

Trucy had been so disappointed when he told her he wasn’t going, and so, against his better judgement, he found himself at the Egg Festival anyway. If she was going to continue inserting herself into his life, then he really needed to learn how to say no to her. 

Pelican Town had been transformed overnight. Pennant banners were strung along the roofs of nearby buildings. Baskets of flowers dotted the town square. Two long buffet tables were set up outside the General Store, courtesy of the Kitakis, along with neatly decorated tables and chairs. Juniper had set up a small stall and was selling a variety of seeds and other miscellaneous household items, and was kind enough to give Apollo a discount on some strawberry seeds to add to his farm. 

The main draw of the festival, however, was the egg hunt. 

An assortment of painted eggs were hidden all over town, meticulously tucked under bushes and behind lampposts out of sight where they laid in wait for someone to find them. There was a small prize for the person who found the most within the allotted time, and Trucy was determined to help him win it. 

“There’s a few people you need to watch out for if you want to win,” Trucy said with all the seriousness of a coach during the Superbowl. 

“Wait, are you not competing?”

“Nope! That would be cheating considering I’m the one who hid all the eggs. I’m better at making things disappear than I am at finding them. Last year, I hid them all so well that people were finding rotten eggs in their gardens for weeks!” 

Ah, Apollo was wondering who set all of this up. He knew Mr. Wright had supplied the eggs, but he couldn’t picture him – or Mr. Edgeworth for that matter – ducking under trucks or climbing on top of benches to hide them. 

“Anyway, the first person you want to look out for is Pearl Fey. Pearly is really fast, so if you find that you’re both going for the same egg, give up and go for a different one instead because you will not outrun her.” 

Trucy pointed to a pair of women in purple robes, the elder giving a pep talk to the younger. 

“She’s like four foot ten. How fast can she be?” 

“Really fast, Polly. Really fast.” 

Apollo still wasn’t convinced, but Trucy sounded serious enough that he dropped it. “Okay, don’t race Pearl. Got it.” 

“Next is Kay Faraday. She runs the adventurer’s guild, so she’s used to running around and climbing things and looking for secret treasures. She’s also pretty stealthy, so keep an eye on her because she will sneak away and grab the eggs before you can get to them.” 

Trucy pointed to a woman with a key in her hair doing stretches like she was preparing for a marathon. 

Honestly, Apollo was relieved to see another twenty-something competing. Most of the competitors seemed to be teenagers, and he didn’t know how he felt about demolishing a child. 

Klavier Gavin wasn’t participating, he noticed. He was hanging off to the side with Simon Blackquill and the woman in the labcoat. 

Apollo tried to ignore him. It was hard to look at him without being reminded of Clay. 

“Kay always wins,” Trucy continued, “so she’s your biggest threat. You have to grab the eggs she wants before she can get them.” 

“She always wins?” 

Trucy nodded. “She wins so much that she’s been accused of stealing eggs from other people’s baskets before, but we’ve never been able to prove it.” 

Apollo made the mental note to keep his close to his chest. “Good to know. Anybody else?” 

“Lastly, Athena Cykes. Athena doesn’t have any skills that make her uniquely good at egg hunts, she’s just super athletic in general and extremely competitive. She will body you, Polly, so watch out.” 

Athena was the only one of the three that Apollo knew. She had a big personality, and so much energy that Apollo felt ten years older just being around her. Finding out she was hypercompetitive didn’t surprise him at all. 

As if sensing they were talking about her, Athena stopped stretching and jogged over to them. “Are you ready to get your ass kicked, Apollo?” 

“Are you?” Apollo shot back. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had a competitive streak as well, and it instantly flared at the first sign of trash talk. “A little birdie told me you’ve never won.” 

“Hey! I’ll have you know I came really close last year!” 

“‘Almost’ winning isn’t the same as winning, Athena.” 

Athena’s eyes flashed. “Okay, wise guy. How many egg hunts have you won?” 

Apollo crossed his arms and stood up a little straighter in an attempt to appear a little taller. “I’ve won every egg hunt I’ve entered.” 

“And how many is that?” 

“...Zero,” Apollo reluctantly admitted. When Athena lit up with a triumphant grin, he quickly added, “but that’s not going to stop me from beating you!” 

“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” 

Athena had a dangerous look in her eye. A smarter man would have backed down, but Apollo could never refuse a challenge. “What kind of bet?” 

“Forget the competition. Kay always wins anyway. Let’s keep this between you and me. Whoever collects the most eggs, wins.” 

“And what happens if we lose?”

“Loser has to… uh….” 

“Loser has to clean Daddy’s pigpen for a month!” Trucy chirped, likely trying to offload one of her chores onto them. Opportunistic little farmhand. 

“Right! That!” Athena outstretched a hand towards him. “Deal?” 

Apollo shook on it. “Deal.”

Mr. Edgeworth announced that the egg hunt was about to begin. Trucy flitted off to watch the game with her father, and Apollo and Athena joined Pearl, Kay, and the rest of the competitors in the centre of the town square. 

Something moved out of the corner of his eye. Apollo glanced to his left, only to catch Klavier Gavin leaning back against the fence, watching him – not Pearl, not Kay, not Athena – him. Apollo quickly looked back at Mr. Edgeworth, and ignored the way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. 

Mr. Edgeworth ran through the rules – no fighting, no stealing, no damaging public or private property – and reminded them where the boundaries of the event lay. “You have twenty minutes to collect as many eggs as you can find. Whoever collects the most within the allotted time will win our exclusive prize. Is everyone ready?” 

Athena cracked her knuckles, and got into a runner’s stance. “You’re going down, Justice.” 

Apollo matched her. “In your dreams, Cykes.” 

“On your marks…” Mr. Edgeworth held a whistle to his lips, “get set….”

The screech echoed across the town, and the hunt began. 

Pearl was off like a shot, sprinting north before Apollo had even taken a step forward. Fuck, she really was fast. Taking Trucy’s advice, he pivoted into another direction and ran south towards the river. 

Despite Trucy’s boasting that she hid last year’s eggs too well, there were several sitting out in the open, ripe for the taking. Apollo rushed through town, plucking them out of flower pots and from behind trash cans before anyone else could get to them first. He couldn’t afford to miss any, if he wanted to avoid being the one stuck cleaning Mr. Wright’s pigpen. 

Apollo followed the river west, but a lot of the obvious eggs had been snatched up within the first five minutes. He had checked flower baskets to no avail before he found another gently nestled between the plants in Mr. Edgeworth’s flowerbeds. 

The egg was painted a royal blue with sunshine yellow polkadots. It stood out vividly against the green stalks of the surrounding garlic plants. With how many people were searching in this area, Apollo couldn’t believe no one had spotted it yet. 

Carefully, Apollo pushed open the gate and stepped into the front yard. His gaze was so laser focused on the egg that he didn’t notice Kay Faraday until she quite literally dropped from the sky. 

“GAH!” Her sudden appearance startled him so bad he leaped backwards an entire foot, and barely managed to avoid dropping his basket. “Where the hell did you come from?!” 

“The roof!” Kay grinned. 

“What were you doing on Mr. Edgeworth’s roof?!” 

“Hey! It’s my roof too, and I can be up there if I want to!” She swiped the blue and yellow egg out from underneath him, and dropped it into her basket. “Yoink! Sorry, Polly! Too slow!” 

Before Apollo could say or do anything, she playfully stuck her tongue out at him, and then vaulted over the fence. 

“H– HEY!” Apollo called after her, but Kay was fast and disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. He was beginning to understand why she always won. 

Not wanting to face her again, Apollo followed the river north in the opposite direction. 

By the fifteen minute mark, most of the eggs had already been found. Apollo found himself rummaging through bushes and checking underneath trash cans for those last few remaining eggs, but found nothing. At one point, he had even climbed on top of a bench to get a better vantage point, but had to quickly abandon that plan when Mr. Wright made a joke about his height. 

If there were more eggs to find, then Apollo had no idea where they could be. The town had been thoroughly scavenged. 

He caught a glimpse of Athena in the town square, and her basket was overflowing with eggs. If Apollo wanted to win, then he needed to find another one. 

But where? 

Apollo was standing in the centre of town, looking around for a tiny crevice that Trucy might have wedged an egg into, when he saw it. 

By the fence of the park, hidden between a lamppost and Simon Blackquill’s boot, was a little yellow egg. 

Apollo’s heart leaped into his throat. That was his ticket to victory, his literal golden egg. All he had to do was grab it before anyone else saw it, and then his victory would be assured. 

“Oh!” Athena exclaimed. 

He glanced over at her, only to find that her gaze was fixed on that final egg. 

No. No, no, no, no, no. 

She looked up, and their eyes locked across the square. Athena’s brows set into a determined expression. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to get that egg. Apollo had to get there first. 

Apollo took off towards the fence at the same time Athena broke into a sprint. When he realised where they were going, Simon Blackquill wisely stepped out of the way before he became the victim of a head-on collision. 

Without a heavy boot to conceal it, the egg now sat out in the open for all to see. 

Apollo’s work boots pounded on the cobblestones. His heart thump-thump-thumped in his chest. He had been slightly closer to the fence than Athena was and so he had a head start, and the egg was gloriously within his reach. 

He was almost there. He just needed to run a little further….

WHAM! 

Athena shoulder-checked him like she was a winger on a hockey team. 

Before today, Apollo would not have described Athena as particularly broad-shouldered, but she was a lot stronger than she looked. She hit him so hard that Apollo lost his footing, and he was sent careening to the ground… 

CRACK!

…and landed directly onto his basket. His eggs smashed beneath him and splattered all over his overalls. Somewhere to his left, Simon Blackquill barked a laugh. 

Athena, to her credit, abandoned the hunt when she realised what happened. “Oh mein gott, Apollo, I’m so so sorry!” She ran to his side, and helped him up. “Are you okay?!” 

“I’m fine,” Apollo said through gritted teeth. 

A few of his eggs had survived the crash, but the handle of his basket had broken off on one side, making it functionally useless. There was no way he would be able to make up for the loss in such little time and with so few eggs remaining. 

Just like that, his chances of winning were gone in an instant. 

Athena bit her lip. Guilt read plainly across her face. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to push you so hard.” 

Apollo sighed. He wasn’t good at letting things go and would probably be annoyed about this for the rest of the day, but Athena felt so bad about it that he couldn’t bring himself to direct that anger at her. “It’s okay. Just… don’t do it again.” 

“I won’t.” She reached into her own basket. “Here, I’ll split my eggs with you!” 

“But what about the competition?” 

“...Okay, so maybe only a third of my eggs–”

“Athena.” 

“Okay, fine! You can have them all!” She pushed her basket into his chest. “And I’ll clean Mr. Wright’s stupid pigpen!” 

He was glad, at least, that Athena wasn’t going to insist that he lost the bet after all of that. 

Apollo set his broken basket to the side to be thrown away later, and counted Athena’s eggs. The worst part was that she actually had less than he did, so there had been no need to race her. He counted to ten in his head, and forced himself to move on. 

Apollo went to collect the last golden egg, but it had disappeared at some point during the scuffle. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Kay’s navy scarf billowing in the wind. 

Of fucking course. 

As if things couldn’t get any worse, a light melodic laugh interrupted his thoughts. 

Klavier Gavin was leaning against the fence next to him, smiling in amusement. He was standing so close there was no way he didn’t see Apollo fall flat on his face. 

He had just horrifically embarrassed himself in front of celebrity heartthrob Klavier Gavin. 

“What are you looking at?!” he snapped, cheeks aflame, but Klavier wasn’t phased. 

“That was quite the spill, Herr Forehead.” 

“Forehead?” 

“Ja. You have a little egg right… here.” 

He prodded Apollo smack dab in the centre of his forehead. A little bit of yolk clung to his finger, and he wiped it off on Apollo’s chest. 

Apollo’s cheeks darkened further. He needed to get out of here before he embarrassed himself even more. 

“I NEED TO FINISH THE EGG HUNT,” he announced – too loudly, by the way Klavier’s eyes widened at the volume – and scampered off without looking back. 

Kay Faraday was declared the winner, and was awarded a giftcard to the Kitaki’s Inn for her troubles. Apollo was pretty sure she had pilfered some of his fallen eggs, but he didn’t call her out on it. His pride had been bruised enough. 

Apollo had been chopping down trees when he found it. 

Tucked into the back left corner of the farm, hidden behind the trees and the overgrowth, was a little stone shrine. 

It was built into the side of one of the cliff walls that marked the north boundary, and consisted of a smooth shelf and four small alcoves on either side. A book was intricately carved into the stone, and read:

Dhurke Sahdmadhi 

19XX - 20XX

Loving father, husband, and friend

A dragon never yields! 

It was surprisingly well-maintained for something so hidden away. An unlit candle sat in each alcove, and each of them had melted wax dried to their side, suggesting they had been lit at some point recently. The grass around the bottom was neatly trimmed, and the weeds pulled away. Apollo assumed it must have been Datz taking care of it, considering he didn’t know who else would visit Dhurke’s shrine, but he had said nothing about it to him. 

Apollo ran a finger along the shelf. It had been a long time since Dhurke passed away – nearly fifteen years ago to the date, when Apollo was nine years old. His death had split up their little household; Nahyuta was sent to live with his Aunt Ga’ran back in Khura’in, and Apollo was thrown into the foster system when Ga’ran refused to take him too. The only reason Nahyuta was in his life now was because they reconnected during law school when they happened to wind up in the same class. 

A lot had changed since then, but Apollo never forgot the closest thing to family he ever had. 

“I don’t know why you left half of the farm to me instead of giving it all to Nahyuta or even Rayfa, but… well, I’m here now.” 

Apollo stood by the shrine in quiet mourning for another long moment before returning to work. 

When he was teaching him how to fish, Datz had been kind enough to point out some flourishing fishing spots, but there was one in particular that Apollo had taken a shine to. 

At the far end of the beach stood a lonely dock, far from anyone else who may have been walking the beach – not that there were many people around at this time of year. It was quiet, peaceful, and isolated which made it the perfect place to relax and unwind by himself somewhere he was unlikely to be bothered. 

Or so he thought. 

A set of heavy boots thudded along on the wooden dock, and then came to a sudden stop a little ways behind him. Apollo turned around to see who it was, and his eyes widened. 

“Ah.” Klavier shifted on his feet, one hand on his guitar strap. “My apologies. There usually isn’t anyone out here.” 

Klavier Gavin was the last person Apollo wanted to see. 

While he had mostly moved on from the egg hunt incident by this point, he was still embarrassed that their first interaction involved Klavier teasing him for falling onto a basket of raw eggs. It certainly didn’t help that he still couldn’t look at him without thinking about Clay. 

The Gavinners had been Clay’s favourite band. He would have busted a gut laughing over Apollo eating shit in front of his favourite musician, and the incident stung more once it hit him that he could never tell his best friend what happened, or even that he had met Klavier Gavin at all. There were so many things that Clay would never get to hear about, and Klavier was a walking reminder that he was gone and was never coming back. 

None of that was Klavier’s fault, Apollo realised, but that didn’t mean he wanted to spend time with him if he didn’t have to. 

“It’s fine. I’m only here because I was told it was a good fishing spot, but I can go somewhere else.” He began reeling in the line, but Klavier stopped him before he lifted the bobber out of the water. 

“No, no! You were here first! There are plenty of other places I can practice, ja?” He smiled, bright and charming. He was being so nice about it that Apollo felt kind of bad for avoiding him. 

There was an obvious solution to their problem – a solution that might also work to solve his only-associating-Klavier-with-his-dead-best-friend problem too – and so, against his better judgement, he reluctantly made the offer. “You don’t have to do that. The pier is big enough for the both of us. Let’s just… share.” 

“Ach, but I would hate to disturb the fishies.” 

The corner of Apollo’s lips twitched upwards despite himself. “As long as you’re not blasting music on a speaker, I think the ‘fishies’ will be fine. Just don’t disrupt the water.” 

Klavier nodded gratefully. “Danke. I promise I’ll keep out of your way.” 

Apollo shuffled over to create more room on the edge of the dock, dragging his tackle box and other equipment with him. Klavier settled down on the other side, opting to sit cross-legged instead of dangling his legs over the edge like Apollo. There were a couple feet between them, but in the quiet isolation of the beach, it felt smaller. 

Klavier pulled his guitar into his lap and tuned it. Once he was satisfied, he flicked open a notebook on the dock next to him, and idly began to strum. It wasn’t a song Apollo recognised, but the acoustic guitar was easier on his ears than the loud electric one he had played before, and so this experience was far more pleasant. 

If Klavier played Guilty Love again though, then he was packing up his fishing gear and going home. 

They didn’t talk much at first. Klavier would play a few bars, scribble something in his notebook, and then play the same melody with a few adjusted notes, seemingly working on a new song. It was slightly awkward, sharing this space with someone he had such mixed feelings about, but Klavier didn’t seem bothered by it so Apollo tried not to let it bother him either. He kept his gaze on his bobber, and did his best to tune Klavier’s presence out. 

They had been sitting together for around fifteen minutes when Apollo got his first bite. 

The bobber dipped and dove under the water, and the line suddenly went taut. Apollo swore under his breath in surprise, snapping to attention. He had to stay calm. If he panicked, then the fish would get away. 

Apollo jerked the rod upwards and kept a tight grip on the handle, just like Datz had shown him. He slowly and patiently reeled it in, lowering the rod when the line became too tight, and raising it back up when it got too loose. The fish fought him the whole time, but Apollo was nothing if not stubborn, and he was determined to keep it on the hook. 

Over and over, Apollo lowered the rod and raised it, up and down, up and down until he managed to reel it in. When the fish finally breached the surface of the water, Apollo scrambled to catch it in his net. This part was hard to do alone and he almost dropped the entire rod into the ocean in the process, but with one quick swing, he managed to capture it before it wriggled off the hook. 

The fish flopped and flailed in the net, unable to escape. 

He did it. It wasn’t as big as he had hoped, but he caught it all by himself and it felt amazing. 

Klavier clapped in celebration. Apollo had been so focused that he momentarily forgot he was there. “Bravo! Excellent work!” 

“I’m still learning, but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” Apollo explained as he wrestled the fish into his bucket

“I never would have guessed. That was masterful.” Klavier was probably just being nice, but the compliment made his skin tingle regardless. “What kind is it?” 

“Uh… a herring, I think? It’s a little small, but it looks like the herrings I’ve caught before.” 

Klavier hummed. “I suppose I wouldn’t know. This is the closest I have ever been to fishing.” 

That wasn’t surprising. Klavier Gavin did not seem like the outdoorsy type. Apollo had clocked that he wasn't from Stardew Valley within seconds of seeing him for the first time. 

“What, they don’t have a fishing spot at the Grammys?” 

Klavier’s smile faltered. There was something about it now that seemed forced. “Ah. You’re a fan, are you?” 

That question felt like it had a wrong answer. Apollo suspected Klavier wanted him to say no, but didn’t celebrities get offended if you didn’t know who they were? Was there a polite way to tell someone you thought their music was as pleasant to listen to as nails on a chalkboard? 

“No. I mean, not really. I know who you are because I knew someone who was a fan,” his heart panged, and Apollo swallowed the lump in his throat, “but I uh… don’t really listen to your stuff. Sorry.” 

Klavier instantly brightened up again. Right answer. “Ach, don’t worry about that, Herr Forehead. There’s plenty of time to right that wrong, ja?” He winked. Apollo wasn’t jazzed that nickname was apparently sticking. “Though, I must admit, I’ve missed seeing you at my performances. You’ve only been to the one, ja?” 

Apollo winced. It didn’t occur to him that Klavier might have seen him storm out of the inn that night until then. “Yeah, um… I’ve just been really busy with the farm and stuff, so….” 

If Klavier picked up on the lie, he didn’t point it out. “Of course. Well, I play every Friday night at the Kitaki’s, so if you find yourself with a spare evening, I’d love to see you there.” 

“Yeah. Maybe, if I have time,” Apollo said non-committedly and with no real intention of taking the offer. 

“No pressure.” Klavier flashed him a smile, and returned to strumming his guitar, soft and melodious.

Apollo settled back down on the dock, applied new bait to his hook, and casted his line. As he waited for a second bite, he glanced at Klavier out of the corner of his eye. 

It wouldn't hurt to get to know him a little, he supposed. It might help him feel more human, less untouchable. 

“So… you’re new in town too, right?” 

“Ja, I arrived only the fall before you. The beach is the perfect locale for a songwriting retreat, don't you agree?” Klavier smiled. “The crisp ocean air, the crash of the waves against the shore, the glittering sun glancing off the water… it clears the mind and invigorates the soul. Nothing gets the creative juices flowing quite as fast.” He snapped his fingers to a beat only he could hear. 

“I'll take your word for it,” was all Apollo could say to that. “How long are you in town then?” 

“Until I have a finished album, I suppose.”

“How long does that take?” 

“Ach, creativity is a fickle beast, Herr Forehead. Sometimes, it can take weeks to write a single song, and sometimes I can have one finished by the end of the night. These things take exactly as long as they need to, and not a second longer.” 

“Right.” 

Apollo didn’t know much about making music, but a few months seemed a little long for a writing retreat to him. Weren’t they usually a few weeks at most? And shouldn’t he be working with a producer or something? 

There was something Klavier was not telling him, some bigger reason that explained his move that he was choosing not to divulge, but Apollo didn’t pry. If he asked too many questions, then that opened up the opportunity for Klavier to ask him questions in return, and Apollo had no intention of talking about his reasons for moving with anyone. Instead, he let the topic drop. 

Or tried to, anyway. 

“So what brings you to Stardew Valley?” Klavier asked despite Apollo’s hopes to the contrary, and Apollo inwardly cursed. 

“I just… needed to get out of the city for a while,” he explained vaguely. 

“The city? You weren’t always a farmer?” 

“No, um… I was a lawyer. A defense attorney.” 

Klavier brows raised with interest. “Ah, is that so? I almost went to law school myself.” 

“Really?” Apollo asked, though he wasn’t sure why he was surprised. The bizarre legal themed lyrics were half the reason he hated the Gavinners in the first place. 

Klavier nodded. “Ja, but alas, it was not meant to be. My music career took off unexpectedly, and law school no longer made sense. I do often wonder, though, what could have been.” The song he was playing took on a wistful quality, and he kept his gaze on his guitar strings. 

“I like being a lawyer, but… I don’t know. I just need to get away for a little while and do something else for a bit. I’ll probably go back to my old job eventually, but for now, I need to be here doing this.” 

“I understand,” Klavier said softly. “Sometimes we need a clean break, ja?” 

Apollo nodded. “Yeah, a clean break and a fresh start.”

“Be somewhere where nobody knows your name.” 

“Or your history.” 

“And where no one will ask you questions you don’t wish to answer. Ah, I know that feeling all too well.” 

Klavier smiled at him, a glint of something in his eye, and Apollo tentatively smiled back. 

Apollo felt an odd kinship with him in that moment, a little spark of connection he hadn’t felt in a really long time. He still found himself wondering why Klavier had come to Stardew Valley – it started to sound like he had his own demons he was running from – but it didn’t matter. It was just nice to be around someone who understood how he was feeling. 

It was nice, if only for a moment, to feel a little less alone. 

“Ach, where’s my manners? I’m Klavier.” He offered his hand for him to shake. 

“Apollo.” 

“Apollo,” there was something about the way his name sounded in Klavier’s accent that felt reverent, divine, “it’s a pleasure to meet you. Perhaps we’ll see each other around, ja?” 

It was a nice thought, even if Apollo wasn’t in the market for new friends. “Maybe, if you promise you won’t scare away my fish with your music.” 

Klavier’s laugh was a song. “I’ll be on my best behaviour. I’ll even write a tune to lure them straight to you.” 

Apollo snorted. “Good luck with that.” 

For another hour, they talked about everything and nothing at all, until Klavier had to head back to his home. Apollo stayed on the pier for a while longer to catch a few more fish, feeling lighter than he had in a while. 

Apollo didn’t know how long he intended to stay in the Valley – a couple of seasons, a year at most – but the end of Spring came all too soon and he knew he wasn’t ready to go home. 

Clay’s loss still hung over him like a thunder cloud, no less dark or stormy than it was last winter, forever drenching Apollo in its rain. He couldn’t go back to his old life where Clay’s absence was felt in every empty corner and unworn jacket, and where every person he knew looked at him with pity and condolences. The grief would ease in time, he understood, but it had not eased yet, and until it did, he was staying right here where nobody knew he was struggling and he could pretend that everything was fine. 

Fortunately, the end of the season brought with it another festival, and Apollo eagerly welcomed the distraction, even if dances were not typically his scene. 

In an empty field southwest of the forest that bordered the farm, the townspeople had set up for the Flower Dance. Baskets of fresh flowers lined the edges, and the Kitaki’s had set up another buffet table in the far corner, brimming with baked goods. Unlike the Egg Festival, the Flower Dance had a dress code, and everyone participating was wearing either a white sundress (Juniper and Pearl), or a bright blue tux (Athena and Kay). 

If Apollo had known that he only had to wear the suit if he was planning on dancing, then he would have told Pearl to keep it and worn his hoodie and jeans instead. Apollo was no stranger to suits – it was all he wore back at his old job – but the tux was too tight on his shoulders and too long on his arms. It made him feel like he was back at prom except this time, he didn’t have Clay to make fun of everything with, and he couldn’t ditch it halfway through to go to the arcade instead. 

“Who are you going to ask to dance, Polly?” Trucy asked, rocking back and forth on her heels. Instead of picking either outfit, she had opted to mix-and-match and was wearing the top half of the tux over the sundress. It shouldn’t have worked, but it looked good on her. 

“Do you have a… special someone?” Pearl added, hands on her cheeks and a sparkle in her eye. 

“Uh,” Apollo let out an uncomfortable laugh and tugged on his collar, “no, I don’t.” 

“Then who are you going to dance with?” 

“Nobody. I wasn’t planning on asking anyone.” 

The girls let out simultaneous gasps. With how shocked they were, a passerby might have thought Apollo had insulted them. “But the Flower Dance is a great way to make a new friend!” Trucy exclaimed. 

“Or more than a friend,” Pearl helpfully added. 

“There’s no one at all you would want to dance with?” 

For a moment, his gaze flickered to where Klavier was crouched down by the speakers, helping Mr. Edgeworth set up the CD player, but he quickly looked away when he caught Trucy trying to follow his gaze. “No, there isn’t. Besides, I don’t know the routine, so I’d only embarrass myself anyway.” 

Trucy perked up. “Oh, if that’s your only problem, then we can fix that!” She grabbed him by the wrist, and before Apollo could process what was happening, she dragged him out to the dance floor. “Come on! It’s easy! I’ll teach you!” 

Apollo wasn’t given time to protest – not that it stopped him from trying. Trucy took his hands and walked him through the steps with occasional input from Pearl, and Apollo was forced to awkwardly and stiffly copy their movements. There was no music which didn’t help his complete lack of coordination, and Trucy was doing the moves too fast for him to keep up. Between the ill-fitting suit and the discomfort from everyone else watching them, it really did feel like he was a teenager at prom again. 

The second Trucy was satisfied he knew the dance well enough to recreate it himself, Apollo scampered back to relative safety on the sidelines. For a moment, he was worried they would follow him and try to change his mind on finding a partner, but Athena and Juniper pulled them into a conversation, and Apollo was mercifully forgotten. Before they could corner him again, he slinked off to the buffet table to get a drink and watch the other townspeople partner up. 

A loud screeching sound rang out across the field as Klavier finally got the speaker and CD player to connect. He cranked up the volume, and the quiet of the field was filled by peppy folk music. The crowd erupted into cheers, and two-by-two, couples and friends alike paired off and split it into lines to begin the dance – Trucy and Pearl, Athena and Juniper, Gumshoe and his wife. Kay Faraday was trying to pull the woman in a labcoat onto the dancefloor with her, but she stood firm with her arms crossed. 

Klavier stood up and dusted the grass off his knees, smiling to himself. He said something to Mr. Edgeworth, who shook his hand before parting ways to check on the rest of the festivities. Klavier looked around the field, searching for something in particular, and lit up when he spotted Apollo by the buffet table. 

“Ach, did my eyes deceive me or was that your bunny-eared head I saw dancing with the Fraulëins a few moments ago, Herr Forehead?” Klavier flashed him his most charming smile, though the charm was offset by that damn nickname. 

Klavier, frustratingly, managed to make the ugly blue suit look stylish. The jacket and pants fit him perfectly as if they had been tailored to fit his tall and slender frame. He had left out the bowtie entirely, and had opened so many buttons on his shirt that to say he was wearing it would be generous. His blonde hair was tied in a neat braid, his rings shone on his fingers, and while his makeup was subtle, it perfectly highlighted the blues of his irises. 

Klavier Gavin was one of those people who was so unfairly pretty that he looked good in just about anything. 

Asshole.

“Trucy was trying to teach me the routine since I didn’t know it.” 

“Ah, perhaps I should have asked her for lessons too in that case, but I must admit, it doesn’t look terribly difficult to pick up.” 

It was fairly simple, Apollo had to concede. The dancers faced each other in two lines, moving forwards and backwards and occasionally meeting their partner in the middle to spin. However, for someone like him who didn’t like social dances…. “Maybe for a performer like you, it’s easy, but some of us normal people were born with two left feet.” 

“You did seem a little stiff. I’ve seen more fluidity in a mannequin.” 

“Thanks,” Apollo said flatly. 

“But that’s a problem easily remedied: you just need to relax more! Loosen those limbs! Shake those hips!” Klavier did a little shimmy, and all the chains he was wearing jangled. “Dancing is supposed to be fun, ja? You don’t need to look quite so tortured.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Well,” Klavier smiled and leaned down towards him. Was he always that tall? “If you’re so worried about not knowing what to do, then perhaps we should partner up. Us newbies should stick together, ja?” 

“You just want to make fun of me again.” 

“Ach, but you make it so easy! You’re like a ripe tomato when you’re flustered. It’s adorable.” 

Apollo shot him a glare, but it might have been more effective if his traitorous face didn’t heat up as well. 

“I am serious though, Herr Forehead. I’m as clueless about this as you are. It might be nice to dance with someone who also doesn’t know what they’re doing, ja?” He toyed with the end of his braid. If Apollo didn’t know any better, he would have thought Klavier was nervous. 

Apollo was not expecting anyone to ask him to dance (and especially not Klavier Fucking Gavin), and his mouth went dry. 

Something had shifted between them since their conversation on the pier. They weren’t friends exactly, but Apollo no longer felt the need to avoid him which was still a step forward. He could hold a conversation with Klavier without feeling too awkward or without being seized by grief. He was no longer Klavier Gavin, Clay’s favourite musician, but Klavier Gavin, that acquaintance who also knows how it feels to want to run from your past. 

Spending time together was no longer the daunting experience it once was. The problem was that agreeing to dance with Klavier meant opening himself up to the possibility of getting closer to him, and that was a hump he could not get over. 

Apollo had not come to Stardew Valley to make friends. He didn’t want new friends. Friends did things like cement themselves as a permanent fixture in your life, only to then die suddenly in a tragic workplace accident, thus leaving behind a gaping hole in your heart that could never be filled no matter how hard you try. Apollo didn’t want to put himself through that again. It was bad enough Trucy seemed to be determined to weasel her way into his life; he couldn’t accept Klavier too. 

It was one dance. It wasn’t a marriage proposal. It wasn’t even necessarily romantic, as Trucy had insisted earlier.  Apollo knew Klavier wasn’t asking him to commit to anything more. 

But he still couldn’t do it. 

“I– I don’t dance,” Apollo stammered out the first excuse he could think of. “I was humouring Trucy earlier, but I don’t– I’m not going to dance.” 

“Is this because you’re self-conscious about your ability? Because ach, I was only teasing earlier. You’re really not that bad–”

“It’s not because of that,” Apollo cut in. “I just… don’t want to dance. At all. With you.” 

He didn’t realise how harsh those words were until he said them out loud. 

Disappointment and hurt flickered across Klavier’s face, but he was quick to mask them with a strained plastic smile. “Ah. I understand. I’ll leave you be then.” 

Guilt ate at Apollo from the inside out. “Klavier–”

“KLAVVY!” 

Before he could say anything further, Kay Faraday bounded up to them. 

“Klavvy! Do you have a partner yet?” 

Klavier glanced at Apollo for a moment. “I do not, nein.” 

“Great! Then you can be my partner! Ema won’t dance with me, so I need you to help me make her jealous.” She made a grab for Klavier’s wrist, but he pulled it out of her reach.

“Ach, are you trying to get me killed? Fraulëin Scientist already doesn’t like me.” 

Kay rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic! Ema’s all bark and no bite. She’ll only threaten to kill you; she won’t actually do it.” 

“I’m not sure that defense would hold up in court, Fraulëin.”

“Oh whatever. Come on, we’re going to miss it!” 

Klavier flashed Apollo an apologetic smile, and allowed Kay to pull him onto the dancefloor. For all Klavier had claimed to be clueless, he had no trouble following Kay’s lead. 

Apollo watched as they twirled around each other, making each other laugh between steps. It could have been him on the receiving end of Klavier’s smile, clasping hands with him and orbiting each other like no one else existed, but he knew it wouldn’t have done him any good. He wondered if he looked as bitter as Ema as she glared daggers into the side of Klavier’s head and chomped on her snacks with a surprising amount of aggression. 

It was for the best, he reasoned. The more distance he maintained between himself and other people, the better. This way, when they inevitably abandoned him, when he was inevitably left alone again, it wouldn’t hurt as much. 

Apollo downed his punch, and tried to ignore the consuming loneliness clawing at his chest. 

Chapter Text

Apollo,

I am relieved to hear you have settled in on the farm. It feels like aeons since we were there last. Is that dent you left in the cellar door still there, I wonder? You had a mean backswing, even at such a tender age. 

Everything is as it was back in Zuzu City. Mr. Fender has kept me busy with his latest case – a locked room mystery, your favourite. You’ll have a lot of catching up to do, if you still wish to best my record of cases won. I’ve acquired an additional two since we last corresponded. I fear you’ll have fallen behind by an insurmountable number by the time you return.  

Mr. Fender asked me how you were coping today. I think he is beginning to wonder when you intend on coming back to work – though I must admit, I am rather curious myself. Do you have a return date in mind? 

I don’t know what you hope to find out there, but I hope you find it soon. Dwelling in the past has never helped anyone, and frankly, neither has running away. 

Let me know if there’s anything I can do to facilitate your return. 

Best wishes,

Nahyuta 

SUMMER

The first day of summer brought with it a scorching heat. 

The spring crops, unable to tolerate the intense sun, had turned a wilted brown. Apollo spent the day digging them up – setting aside the ripe ones for preserves and the rotten ones for compost – and replaced them with summer crops better suited for the season. 

Doing manual labour in such heat was torture. Sweat dripped down his back, causing his t-shirt to cling to his skin. Halfway through the day, he ditched his overalls for a pair of loose shorts to help keep himself cool, but those came with the new problem of his bare legs getting covered in dirt. He had half a mind to ditch the t-shirt too, and probably would have done so if he didn’t have company. 

It took all season, but Apollo managed to gather together enough money and materials for repairs to the coop. Mr. Gumshoe was perched on the roof, relaying the tiles to fix the leaks and whistling a tune while he worked. Apollo had expected the sound to annoy him, but it was kind of nice hearing someone else working on the farm. It was usually just him here, and the hammering and humming provided a surprisingly comforting backing track while he attended to his chores. 

“Looks like you have a visitor, pal!” Mr. Gumshoe called out to him. 

Apollo, who had begun work on installing a fence around the coop, looked up to see Mr. Wright walking over from the southside of the farm with his hoodie bundled in his arms. It was a curious sight, considering Mr. Wright rarely visited – Trucy, yes, but not her father. 

“Mr. Wright?” Apollo put down his tools. “Is everything okay?” 

“I found a little someone trespassing on your land.” 

Before Apollo had a chance to ask what that meant, a little white head popped out of the hoodie. Its fur was speckled with orange and black, and its yellow eyes stared up at him, unblinking. 

“Is that…?” 

“A stray cat? Yep. I heard him screaming in a log near the south entrance of your farm. He got his little paw stuck in one of the holes and couldn’t get out.” Mr. Wright lifted one of his paws and made him wave at Apollo. For a stray, he was surprisingly tolerant of being held and maneuvered. 

Tentatively, Apollo held his hand to the cat’s face, and let it sniff him. “Are you sure it’s a stray? He’s very friendly.” 

“No collar, no chip, and he’s skinnier than a cat his age should be. You can ask around if you want – see if anyone’s missing a kitten – but I suspect he got separated from his mother, and he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.” 

Apollo’s heart melted. He didn’t know what it said about him that he strongly related to this little stray cat, but he knew what it was like to feel small and alone, and he didn’t like that such an innocent little creature was left to fend for himself. 

He was so hung up on that detail that it took a second for Mr. Wright’s words to register. “Wait, me?!” 

“Well, I found him on your farm, so….” Mr. Wright placed the bundle in his arms, and suddenly Apollo was cradling a tiny kitten like a baby. 

“But you’re the one who found him! Doesn’t that make him your responsibility?” 

Mr. Wright sucked a breath in between his teeth. “No can do, I’m afraid. Trucy gets too attached to the animals, and we don’t have space for another foster fail. You’d actually be doing me a huge favour by taking him off my hands before Trucy finds out and begs to keep him.” 

Apollo looked up at the coop roof. “Mr. Gumshoe?”

“Sorry, pal!” Mr. Gumshoe smiled apologetically and scratched the back of his neck. “Missile doesn’t get along with cats, and Maggey’s allergic anyway.” 

“So because neither of you can take him, I’m the one who has to keep him?” 

Mr. Wright shrugged. “You have plenty of space, and a cat would help keep the field mice out of your home. Why not you?” 

For one, Apollo had not planned on adopting a pet. The only animals he had planned for were a couple of chickens, and maybe a couple of ducks since he had that large pond on the south of the farm. Cows, sheep, and goats he would only consider if he decided to stay long term, and he had no interest in raising pigs for now. The thought of adopting a pet had occurred to him – if he was honest with himself, he could use the company – but he wasn’t sure it was wise to take one in when he didn’t know how long he would be staying in Stardew Valley. 

On the other hand….

The cat stared up at him with big yellow eyes. One of his little ears twitched. 

Someone needed to look after him until they found him a permanent home, and Mr. Wright had a point in that Apollo had plenty of space for a kitten. Apollo always had a fondness for cats, even if he had never had the means to adopt or even foster one before, and this little kitten was awfully cute….

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take care of him, if only for a little while.

“I guess he can live with me – just until we find him a forever home.” 

Mr. Gumshoe laughed. “I said the same thing about Missile, pal, and seven years later, he’s still my best friend! Well, aside from Mr. Edgeworth of course!”

“Of course.” Mr. Wright chuckled at a joke Apollo didn’t get. 

Later, when Apollo took him into the farmhouse, the cat immediately darted under the bed. Mr. Wright had given him some basic pet supplies he had lying around the ranch, and Apollo set up the food and water bowl in the corner of his bedroom. He dipped out to pick up some extra toys and a scratching post from the General Store, and at some point while he was gone, the cat had sneaked out to eat his dinner before hiding away again.

Mr. Wright had warned him that it would likely take a few days for the cat to feel comfortable enough in his new environment to explore, but surprisingly, while Apollo was scrolling on his phone before bed, the cat bravely ventured out from his hiding spot to climb up next to him. 

“You really are friendly, aren’t you?” Apollo muttered softly. 

He held his hand out towards the cat, and allowed him to sniff him. Once he was satisfied, the cat curled up into Apollo’s side. 

“Or maybe you’re just lonely. I hate to admit it, but… I can relate.” 

Apollo hesitantly ran a hand over his fur, afraid to spook him, but he didn’t need to worry. The cat closed his eyes and settled down, content. 

“You know… I’ve been doing some research. I’ve been trying to find a good name for you until we can adopt you out. How do you feel about… Mikeko?” 

The cat purred softly, a rumble against his side. 

Apollo instantly knew that, as long as no one else claimed him, Mikeko would be staying with him. 

The Kitaki’s Inn was crowded. Almost every table was taken when Apollo pushed through the swinging doors. Athena and Juniper were sitting with Simon Blackquill, talking between themselves while he hid a smile behind his glass. Ema and Kay were drinking in the corner, heads bowed together as if there was no else in the room. Trucy had sandwiched herself between Mr. Wright and Mr. Edgeworth at their usual table, and was talking the latter’s ear off – Apollo caught something about missing rabbits and a magic box as he walked past. 

Apollo let them all be, and took a seat at the bar. He was only here for one purpose and one purpose only. 

He timed it well, and only had to wait a few minutes for Klavier to arrive. The summer air was cooler at night, but he had still ditched the jacket anyway in favour of a loose shirt that was only half-buttoned. Apollo was beginning to worry that he didn’t own any shirts with more than three button holes. 

Klavier took his seat on the staging area and set himself up. Even though Apollo was prepared for the loud guitar this time, he still winced as it blared through the speaker during the sound check. Klavier took a few moments to tune his guitar, and once he was ready, he leaned in towards the mic. 

“Guten Abend, Stardew Valley!” 

As the crowd greeted him with polite applause, Klavier scanned the room. His eyes widened in surprise when he noticed Apollo had made a rare appearance, and his face broke into a bright smile. Apollo lifted his glass towards him in a silent greeting. There was no harm in letting Klavier believe that he was here for him. 

Klavier went through his usual introductory spiel of reminding the audience not to record his performances or post about them on social media – a request that made more sense to Apollo now that he knew how famous Klavier was – and then started to play. His first song wasn’t Guilty Love this time, but another popular record that Apollo recognised as one Clay frequently had on rotation. 

Apollo closed his eyes and allowed the sound of Klavier’s voice to wash over him. 

Now that the novelty of living on a farm had worn off and he had long settled into a new daily routine, Apollo was feeling Clay’s absence more than ever. 

There were so many things he wished he could tell Clay about – the move, his job, his cat, Trucy’s relentless insistence on hanging out with him as much as possible, the fact that Klavier Fucking Gavin asked him to dance – but fate had cruelly ripped that option away from him. The downside of moving away from the city was that he couldn’t visit Clay’s grave anytime he wanted to talk to him. He had no memories of Clay here, and that was fine at the start when he needed distance, but now that he wanted to feel close to him again, there was nowhere for him to go. 

Nowhere, but Klavier Gavin’s weekly performances. 

Despite Apollo’s protests, the Gavinners were a constant in the soundtrack of their lives. It didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, Klavier’s voice was likely somewhere in the background. 

Listening to Klavier now, Apollo could pretend that he was back in their college dorm room, or in the passenger seat of Clay’s truck, or in the kitchen of their shared apartment. If he closed his eyes, then he could imagine Clay sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping an alcohol-free beer and trying to goad him into saying something nice about the Gavinners. 

He could, if only for a night, bask in the memories of his best friend. 

Klavier’s set came to an end all too soon, and Apollo joined everyone in applauding him as he thanked them for being such a great audience. Klavier tidied away his guitar, left the case on the stage for now, and then beelined towards where Apollo was sitting at the bar. 

“Ah, Herr Forehead! You’ve finally come to fill in the gap in your music taste, I see.” He smiled as he slipped onto the stool next to his. 

Apollo was worried that things would be weird between them after he had rejected Klavier at the Flower Dance, but it seemed Klavier was intent on pretending that day never happened, and Apollo was more than willing to play along. “Don’t inflate your ego, Gavin. Maybe I just came for a drink.” 

“On a Friday night? When you know I perform?” 

“An unfortunate coincidence.” 

Klavier chuckled. “Well, I hope I provided good backing music for the drink you definitely came for then.” 

“It was the most I’ve ever enjoyed listening to a Gavinners song,” Apollo answered honestly. When Klavier lit up, he hastily added, “but your guitar is too loud. I liked the acoustic stuff you were playing on the pier better.” 

Klavier was taken aback by the actual criticism, but to his credit, he took it well. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He nodded at Apollo’s half-empty beer glass. “Can I get you a refill?” 

Apollo shook his head. “Better not. This is my second, so….” 

And he really didn’t like the implication behind Klavier buying him a drink. 

Fortunately, Klavier didn’t push it. He flagged down Plum Kitaki to order himself an old fashioned, and Apollo watched on as the two of them bantered back and forth, playfully flirting and winking and joking ach, you don’t look a day over twenty-two.  

Maybe the Flower Dance didn’t mean anything, if this was how Klavier talked to a middle-aged married woman. Apollo should have known better than to think otherwise. People who look like Klavier Gavin didn’t sincerely flirt with guys who look like Apollo Justice. 

It didn’t take long for Plum to put together his cocktail and slide it towards him. Klavier took an experimental sip, hummed in satisfaction, and turned his attention back to Apollo again. “So, Herr Forehead, what’s new with you? How’s the farm?” 

“Good, I think. It's summer now, so I’ve mostly been preparing for the change in season.”

“What does that entail?” 

“Planting new crops that are better suited for the heat, mostly. My hot peppers are starting to fruit which is exciting.” 

Klavier whistled appreciatively. “Hot peppers, very impressive.” 

“...Is it?” 

“It is to me. Ach, I don’t know how you do it, Herr Forehead. I’ve killed every plant I’ve ever tried to grow.” 

“I mean, it’s not too hard once you know what you’re doing. I didn’t grown much of anything back in the city. I had a couple of herbs in a planter on the kitchen window and that’s it.” 

Apollo missed his little parsley and basil plants sometimes. He had to offload them onto Nahyuta before he left. 

Although, between the two of them, Nahyuta had always been the one with the green thumb. Apollo wondered sometimes what he would have done with the farm, if he wasn’t so adamant about maintaining distance from their past. 

“But yeah. Other than that, I’ve just been tending to my new chickens.” 

“Ah, I didn’t know you were planning on branching into livestock.” 

“Just chickens for now. Although, I did adopt a cat recently too,” Apollo couldn’t help but add. Ever since he made the decision to keep Mikeko, it was all he ever wanted to talk about. 

“Ach, Herr Forehead, you’re going to make me jealous. I wish I had the means for pets. My brother has a dog and I miss her terribly. You’re living my dream life, I swear.” 

“You know, most people would say that about you. How many Grammys do you have, Klavier Gavin?” 

“Four, but who’s counting?” Klavier winked. “But ach, the celebrity life is not as glamorous as it seems. I would much rather live on a farm with a cute Kätzchen, growing delicious fruits and vegetables with my own two hands. Now that is a life worth living.” 

Apollo watched as Klavier took a larger-than-average gulp of his drink. 

For a moment, he was reminded of that day at the pier when he first learned how much Klavier related to his desire to leave his old life behind. Part of him thought that Klavier was just trying to be nice – why would someone who could have anything they wanted ask for so little? – but now he wasn’t so sure. There was something he was dancing around, something he wasn’t saying. 

But what could Klavier Gavin be running away from? 

“You know… if you want… you could come by the farm and meet Mikeko, since you’re missing your brother’s dog,” Apollo offered, looking into his glass to avoid making eye contact. “I mean, it’s probably not the same, but it might help – only if you want, though.” 

Klavier’s eyes widened with pleasant surprise, but Apollo couldn’t blame him. He was surprised at the offer himself. “I’d love to meet the Kätzchen – and see your farm too, if you’re willing.”

“Yeah, sure, come by anytime. I’ll be… around.” It wasn’t like he did anything else with his time.

“I might take you up on that.” Klavier smiled, tender and genuine. 

Apollo downed the rest of his beer, and ignored the warmth spreading through his chest. 

It must have been the alcohol. 

Apollo hadn’t been drunk, but two beers was enough to make him tipsy, so that must have been it. It was the only logical explanation he could think of for why on earth he would invite Klavier Gavin to visit the farm. 

Klavier showed up the next morning dressed for the summer – shorts, sandals, and one of those douchey tank tops with the low arm holes. His hair was pinned up away from his neck, and he was wearing a pair of sunglasses that probably would have cost Apollo an entire paycheck back at his old job. 

“You look like a frat boy on spring break.” 

“Well, Guten Morgen to you too, Herr Forehead. Do you welcome all your guests so warmly?” 

“Only the ones who have clearly never stepped foot on a farm before.” 

Klavier ignored the jab, and looked around. “I like what you’ve done with the place. It’s very quaint. Very rustic.” 

Apollo couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic. 

The farm, to be fair, was in much better shape now than it was when he first moved in. Fruit and vegetable patches were flourishing in neatly divided rows and squares. His chickens clucked happily in their coop. The greenhouse was still wrecked, but Apollo had swept up and disposed of the broken glass, and while the barn was still out of commission, he was saving up to have Mr. Gumshoe fix it next. 

It might not have been pretty, with the patches of weeds and overgrowth he still hadn’t got around to cutting down, but it was more functional now than it had been in years. 

“Come on,” Apollo waved for Klavier to follow him, “I’ll show you around.” 

Apollo took him to his crops first. 

“I like your scarecrow.” Klavier nodded towards the wooden figure that was dressed in a blue cape and matching top hat standing on guard in the centre of the field. 

“That’s Mr. Hat.” 

Klavier raised a brow, and his lips twitched up in amusement. 

Apollo sighed. “Trucy made it. She dressed it up like a magician because, and I quote, ‘it’s his job to make the crows disappear’.” 

“How charming.” 

“That’s Trucy for you. Charm personified.” 

Klavier hummed in agreement. He inspected the rows of corn, tomatoes, hot peppers, and the little patch of melons Trucy had requested when she first dropped by the farm. “Do you have any blueberries?” 

“Blueberries?” 

“They’re a favourite of mine, and I believe they’re in season, ja?” 

They were, Apollo noted, but he hadn’t thought to grow any. He could possibly fit a row of them next to his tomatoes if Juniper happened to have the seeds in stock. “Not yet, but if you want to try something, the hot peppers are ripe.” 

“Ah. Nevermind then.” 

“You don’t like hot peppers?” 

“Not raw.”

Apollo picked one anyway. “What, can’t handle a little spice?” He chomped on the end of his pepper. A pleasant heat bloomed in his mouth, and he took a twisted sort of satisfaction from the way Klavier’s eyes widened – a shock that only increased when Apollo didn’t visibly react. 

“Ach, you’re a stronger man than I, Herr Forehead.” 

“Or you’re just a baby.” Apollo ate the rest, smirking to himself when Klavier winced. “Come on. Try one. This variety isn’t even that hot.” 

Apollo picked another pepper, and dropped it into Klavier’s hand before he could protest. Despite his obvious reluctance, Klavier lifted it to his teeth and took the tiniest little nibble – a bite so small that Apollo wondered if Klavier could even taste it, but he got his answer soon enough. Klavier’s face scrunched up in pain, and he shoved the remainder of his pepper back into Apollo’s hands. 

Apollo laughed. “Baby,” he teased, and finished the pepper for him. 

Even under all that makeup, Klavier’s face flushed redder than a tomato. 

While the crops were by far the most profitable part of his farm, Apollo had a soft spot for his chickens. Ever since they were kids, Clay’s nickname for him had been ‘Pollo. Apollo couldn’t remember if Clay called him that because it was the Spanish word for chicken, or if the shorthand for his name came first and the chicken association came later, but regardless, it was something that had amused Clay to no end. Every birthday gift was chicken themed – chicken socks, chicken keychains, chicken coasters, chicken birthday cards (even if it meant altering the ‘Happy Mother’s Day!’ messaging so it read ‘Happy Pollo’s Day!’ instead). Clay bought him other things too, of course, but it was an inside joke that persisted well into adulthood. 

They had never considered raising actual chickens. Apollo had moved around so much that pets of any kind were out of the question, and Clay grew up in an apartment. Now that he did have the means, however, it only seemed right to raise a few – like he was keeping Clay’s memory alive by indulging in their inside joke. 

When Apollo brought him by the coop, Klavier said he wanted to feed them, so he instructed Klavier to cup his hands, and trowelled some seed into them. “They might nip at your fingers by accident, but they should eat right out of your hands.” 

“Ah, I’m no stranger to Fraulëins eating out of my hands, Herr Forehead.”

“...I don’t even want to know what that means.” 

Klavier knelt down and held his cupped hands out towards the chickens. He cooed and clucked at them to get their attention, but it wasn’t necessary. At the first sign of food, the chickens swarmed him and eagerly pecked at the seed. 

“What are their names?” Klavier asked. 

“The brown one is Henrietta, and the white one is Eggatha.” 

Klavier shot him a look, smirking to himself. “Let me guess: Fraulëin Magician named them too?” 

“I’m not good at naming things!” Apollo flushed. “Trucy names all the animals at the ranch, and I wasn’t going to change them when I got them.” 

“You at least named the Kätzchen yourself, ja?” 

“Yeah, of course I named Mikeko.” 

“And what does that name mean?” 

“It’s Japanese for ‘calico’.” When he caught Klavier trying to stifle a laugh, Apollo quickly added, “Hey, you’re in no position to judge me! You literally named your band after yourself!” 

“The record label named the band,” Klavier corrected. “We were Die Gewinner before, but we were told an English name would be more marketable.” 

Huh. Apollo didn’t know that. 

“So your label built the entire brand around you? And your bandmates were okay with that?” 

Klavier shrugged. “Not particularly, but we didn’t have much say in our band’s image in those days. It was a point of contention among us for the band’s entire lifespan, and perhaps I could have done more to push back against the label’s wishes, embraced the frontman persona a little less, but… well, it doesn’t matter anymore now, does it?” 

Klavier forced a wry smile. 

Apollo remembered Clay telling him about the Gavinners breakup – something about creative differences, and a couple of the band members falling out, but the PR team had been light on the details. He wondered if the rest of the band’s irritation with the label’s focus on Klavier had something to do with that. He wondered if the breakup was why Klavier was hiding in Stardew Valley. 

Curiosity ate him from the inside out, but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry. He would have to find out some other way. 

“Was the weird legal themes of your songs marketable? I thought rock bands were supposed to be anti-establishment.” 

Klavier laughed, the tension diffusing from his body at Apollo’s teasing. “Ach, but you were a lawyer, Herr Forehead! You were our target audience!” 

“Target missed.” 

Klavier laughed again. 

Once the chickens lost interest and wandered off, they left the coop to move on to the real star of the tour. 

Apollo was a little embarrassed about inviting Klavier into his home – he dreaded to think what someone who lived in a penthouse ordinarily thought of his sparsely decorated farmhouse – but there was only one thing in the entire room that caught Klavier’s attention. 

When Mikeko sauntered in and rubbed up against Apollo’s leg, Klavier was on his knees in an instant. “Is this the famous Kätzchen I’ve heard so much about?” 

“Do you see any other cats in here?” 

Klavier ignored him. He held his hand out towards Mikeko, making kissy noises at him all the while. Mikeko sniffed at his fingers, and then, satisfied that Klavier was a friend, pushed his head into his palm. That was all the permission Klavier needed to pull Mikeko into his lap, and he settled down with him smack dab in the middle of the living room floor.

“Ach, what a friendly Kätzchen.” He scratched Mikeko behind his ears, and Mikeko purred up a storm in response. “No wonder Herr Forehead couldn’t resist keeping you. You’re such a beautiful Kätzchen too, aren’t you Schatz?”

There was a perfectly good couch not five feet away, but Klavier seemed content where he was so Apollo sat down on the floor with him. “Male calicos are really rare, you know – something about the coat colouring being passed on through the X-chromosome.” 

“Ah, so you are a special Kätzchen indeed!” Klavier made kissy noises at Mikeko again. 

Apollo struggled to remember why he ever thought Klavier was cool, nevermind intimidating. 

“It must be nice to have something that can keep you company on long lonely nights.” 

Apollo looked over at him. Klavier was forcing a smile again, like he had when they were talking about his band. It might have been coincidence, or maybe Apollo was reading too much into nothing, but those sentiments felt related, somehow. “Do you have a lot of those?” 

“Don’t we all, at some point or other?” Klavier wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing his attention on running a hand down Mikeko’s back. “I suppose the change in living situation has taken some getting used to. I lived alone in Zuzu City too, mind you, but… it can be hard going from spending every day with someone you care about to never seeing them at all.”

Ah, Apollo knew that feeling all too well. His heart panged in sympathy. 

“I keep reminding myself that it’s for the best that we no longer talk, but….” Klavier shook his head. “Ach, what am I doing? You don’t want to hear about my personal problems.” 

“I don’t mind,” Apollo was quick to reassure him, but whatever little bit of the real him had slipped out, Klavier was quick to lock it back away. 

“You have a lovely home, Herr Forehead.” Klavier gently nudged Mikeko out of his lap and stood up. “Care to indulge me in a tour?” 

He was acting as if the last thirty seconds never happened, but Apollo could see the tension at the corner of his smile, and the almost desperate look in his eyes pleading with him not to press any further. Maybe Apollo should have let the topic drop, but he didn’t. “If you’re feeling lonely… you can come here. You don’t have to talk about it or anything, we can just… hang out or whatever – as long as you promise not to be too annoying.” 

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you.”

“I don’t think you can help it.” 

Klavier laughed. “But danke for the offer. You’re too kind.” 

The sincerity was too much, and Apollo scooped Mikeko into his arms for the sake of diverting his attention elsewhere. 

Apollo did indulge him in a tour, but he internally cursed himself the entire time. He was supposed to be keeping Klavier at arm’s length. This was not keeping him at arm’s length. 

And yet, every time he thought about pushing him away or rescinding his offer to keep him company when he needed it, he would catch a glimpse of Klavier’s perfect smile and the words would fall away. This was a dangerous road he was treading, but now that it was on it, he didn’t know how to get off. 

Later that night, while he was curled up in bed with Mikeko, Apollo couldn’t take the curiosity any longer and googled Gavinners breakup. 

Instantly, his phone was flooded with headlines. 

THE GUITAR’S DIRGE: KLAVGAV ANNOUNCES GAVINNERS BREAKUP

9 YEARS OF HARD TIMES FOR THE GAVINNERS: A RETROSPECTIVE

DARYAN’S GUILTY LOVE: CRESCEND SPEAKS OUT

THE FALL OF A ROCK GOD: WHERE IS KLAVIER GAVIN NOW? 

The articles were relentless. The majority were from tabloids and blog posts that knew even less about the Gavinners than Apollo himself did, but presented themselves as experts with insider info nonetheless. Where there was a dearth of facts, the writers filled the gaps with speculation. 

The band wanted to pivot from the law theme, but Klavier wouldn’t let them, insisted one journalist. 

Klavier and Daryan were having a secret love affair, and Klavier dissolved the entire band when Daryan broke up with him, boldly claimed another. 

One publication claimed to have interviewed an anonymous source ‘close with the band’ who accused Klavier of being a self-absorbed narcissist who couldn’t handle it when the spotlight shone on anyone but himself. According to them, it had only been a matter of time before the rest of the band couldn’t put up with his ego any longer. (That one, at least, resembled what Klavier himself had told him about the band’s breakup, but it still made Apollo’s blood boil to see them speak of Klavier with such derisive words.)

It wasn’t just the breakup either. Tabloids were taking digs at Klavier’s clothes, his hair, his body, his accent – anything they could latch onto to show that he wasn’t taking care of himself, or that he was spiralling into a mental breakdown, or that he was another former child star who couldn’t handle the transition to adulthood. 

How did Klavier live like this? 

The paparazzi were ripping into every aspect of his identity like vultures picking apart a carcass. He wasn’t a person to these people. He was a plastic doll, a character that existed only on their screens. He had no interiority beyond what they projected onto him, and they didn’t seem to care about the person behind the music at all. It was cruel and dehumanising, and Klavier deserved so much better than this. 

Apollo pivoted away from the articles when they started to piss him off. He instead opened up wikipedia, and searched Daryan Crescend as that was a name that came up a lot in conjunction with Klavier’s. 

Daryan was the second guitarist of the Gavinners, Apollo learned. He and Klavier had met all the way back in freshman year of high school, and had been best friends ever since. Half of the images in the gallery were of the two of them together, performing on stage or sitting next to each other during interviews. Seeing Daryan throw an arm around Klavier’s shoulders, Apollo could kind of understand where the dating rumours came from, even if they just seemed like close friends to him. 

Or were, he supposed. 

Apollo wasn’t gullible enough to believe anything the tabloids told him, but many of them alluded to a potential falling out between them. He wondered if Daryan was the person Klavier missed, whose absence was keeping him awake at night. Apollo didn’t want to speculate, but the thought stuck with him. 

He was intimately familiar with how it felt to lose a best friend. A fight was a different kind of loss than what he was going through, but it was a loss nonetheless – one that could be just as devastating as a death. 

Maybe he and Klavier had more in common than he thought. 

Apollo moved to close the tab – he was starting to feel weird about digging so much into Klavier’s life behind his back – but an image from a photoshoot caught his eye. He enlarged it and his mouth went dry. 

If Apollo thought Klavier’s half-buttoned shirts were revealing, then he was not prepared for what he wore when he was intentionally trying to show off. 

The photo was taken by a professional photographer – possibly a journalist, possibly a member of the Gavinners’s PR team – from the pit in front of the stage. Klavier was on his knees, belting into a microphone as a sea of hands stretched out towards him, trying to touch the untouchable. His black mesh shirt perfectly showed off his toned chest and sculpted abs, and his tight leather pants left very little to the imagination. His makeup was more extravagant for the stage – bold lipstick, glitter on his cheekbones, colourful eyeliner that bordered on artsy – and his hair was styled into a twist that was slowly coming undone from exertion. Between the copious jewellery and the thin layer of sweat covering his body, he practically glistened under the bright stage lights. Everything about him was so eye-catching that Apollo barely registered Daryan shredding on guitar behind him. 

This Klavier looked so different from the Klavier he knew. It was hard to reconcile this glamorous version of him with the more subdued version he had spent the day with. It was hard to imagine this Klavier choking on a hot pepper, or talking to his cat in a baby voice that had given Apollo second-hand embarrassment. 

Famous Rockstar Klavier Gavin was too manufactured, too put on, too perfect. As hot as he was (and he was extremely hot oh my god), Apollo liked the flawed and dorky Klavier better. His Klavier was approachable. He was someone he could share a drink with, or sit next to on the pier while talking about nothing at all. 

He was someone he could be friends with, if the thought didn't terrify him. 

Suddenly, Mikeko stepped on his face, and Apollo was snapped out of his reverie. It hit him all at once what he was doing, what he was looking at, and Apollo threw his phone on the bedside table, and pulled the covers over his head like he had been caught doing something shameful. He shut his eyes tight and willed his burning cheeks to cool. 

The beach was swarming with people for the annual Luau. There were people crowded around the buffet tables (Plum Kitaki had to swat away the wandering hand of Kay Faraday as she tried to pilfer some food before the feast could formally begin), people clustered together on the makeshift dancefloor (Pearl and her cousin Maya were futilely trying to convince Mr. Wright to join them for a dance, and then accused him of being old when he refused), and people milling around on the sand (Klavier was sitting outside the beach house he was staying in, idly strumming his guitar despite the speakers from the dancefloor drowning out his music). 

This festival was different from the others Apollo had attended, however. For this one, he was given a job to do. 

Apollo made his way towards where Juniper was stirring a pot of soup over a fire, Trucy at his heels. “Oh hi, Apollo. Hi, Trucy.” She greeted them both with a smile. 

“Hi Juniper!” Trucy chirped. “That smells really good!”

Juniper flushed under the praise. “Thank you, but I’m only following my Grandma’s recipe. All the credit should go to her.” She waved to the pot. “You can add your vegetables to the soup whenever you’re ready.” 

Apollo upended his small crate of pre-washed and shucked corn into the pot, and then took the crate of red cabbage Trucy was carrying for him and dumped that in as well. “What’s all this for anyway? Mr. Edgeworth was very particular about what vegetables he wanted me to bring.” 

He had also been pretty demanding too, but Apollo had bitten his tongue. The last thing he needed was to be on the mayor’s bad side, especially considering he was the one who collected his taxes. 

“It was a tradition that started when Governor Von Karma would do his annual inspections,” Juniper explained as she stirred in the new vegetables. “We would all gather for a feast on the beach, and my Grandma would make her special soup recipe with locally grown ingredients. It was something the old mayor would do to butter up the governor, and Mr. Edgeworth continued the tradition once he took office.”

“So it’s all politicking then?” 

Juniper nodded. “This year is special though. It’s the first year the new Governor is visiting – Governor Von Karma’s daughter. I think Mr. Edgeworth is keen to impress her.” 

“Mr. Edgeworth grew up with Ms. Von Karma, and they’re super competitive,” Trucy added in a hushed voice, leaning in towards them conspiratorially. “Daddy says that Mr. Edgeworth used to be a huuuuge perfectionist when he was your age, Polly, and that side of him always comes out when his sister is around.” 

“So less politicking and more sibling rivalry?” 

“Bingo!” 

A few minutes later, Mr. Edgeworth stepped onto the beach in his best magenta suit with a formidable woman that could only be Governor Von Karma. Everything about her, from her frilly blouse and pencil skirt to the actual whip on her hip, projected power and demanded respect – though her intimidation factor was undercut slightly by the way her heeled boots sank into the sand. 

Mr. Edgeworth led her directly over to the pot where Apollo and Trucy were still talking with Juniper. “Franziska, I’d like you to meet Ms. Juniper Woods, the current manager of the General Store, and Mr. Apollo Justice, our local farmer.” Mr. Edgeworth gestured to them both in turn. “And you know Trucy.” 

“Hi Ms. Von Karma!” Trucy greeted her, bright and bouncy. “Or should I say, Governor Von Karma! Congrats on the promotion!” 

Governor Von Karma’s expression softened. “Trucy Wright. I trust your foolish father has been taking good care of you?” She spoke in an accent that reminded Apollo of Klavier’s, but where Klavier’s speech was musical and poetic, hers was direct and no nonsense. 

“You know it! He’s finally letting me practice with the throwing knives you gave me! I hit one of Polly’s scarecrows right between the eyes the other day!” 

“Yeah, and I wish you wouldn’t practice on those,” Apollo mumbled to himself. 

“Wonderful!” Governor Von Karma smiled proudly. “Keep it up! No man will ever underestimate you again once you’ve mastered a weapon.” 

Apollo eyed the whip. He had a feeling she was speaking from experience. 

Mr. Edgeworth cleared his throat, and briskly changed the subject. “Every year, Pelican Town gathers on the beach for a potluck dinner, and to partake in a soup made by Ms. Woods’s family. It was a favoured tradition of your father’s.” 

Governor Von Karma peered curiously into the pot, but if she had any preliminary opinions on it, her expression gave nothing away. “Yes, Papa spoke of this soup.” 

“Positive things, I hope?” 

“You’ve met my Papa, Miles Edgeworth. Don’t ask such foolish questions.” 

Apollo winced at the implication. Poor Juniper frowned sadly down at the pot. 

“But,” she continued, standing up straight, “A Von Karma forms her own opinions. I will try this soup, and judge its quality for myself.” 

When Juniper had determined the soup was ready to eat, the rest of the town gathered around the pot to witness the first tasting. The spectacle was slightly ridiculous in Apollo’s opinion, but he hoped, for Juniper’s sake, that Governor Von Karma approved of it. 

Juniper ladled some soup into a bowl, and handed it to her. Her hands trembled with nerves. 

“I expect nothing less than perfection, Miles Edgeworth.” 

Mr. Edgeworth rolled his eyes. “And I’d expect nothing less from you, Franziska.” 

Governor Von Karma swirled the soup in the bowl like she was at a wine tasting, and then smelled it with a non-committal hum. She sipped it slowly, savouring it on her tongue. 

Mr. Edgeworth watched with bated breath. Juniper reached for Athena, who had sneaked up to the pot when the tasting began, and gripped her hands for support. 

Governor Von Karma gave Juniper one single approving nod. “This is… acceptable.” 

Apollo didn’t know her very well, but he got the impression that was the highest praise she was willing to give something even tangentially related to her brother. Mr. Edgeworth seemed to think so, and smirked like he had won some unspoken competition. 

Juniper visibly relaxed with relief, and began serving soup bowls to the rest of the townsfolk. 

When Apollo collected his own bowl, he stepped away to find a place to eat it, but hesitated upon noticing that Klavier was still sitting on the front step of his beach house, strumming his guitar, soupless. 

He looked so alone, sitting by himself like that. Apollo wasn’t sure why he didn’t get up when everyone else did, but he wasn’t going to let the self-isolation stand – not after the conversation they had on the farm. 

He turned back to Juniper. “Sorry, can I get one more bowl?” 

Klavier didn’t look up from his guitar until Apollo was mere feet away. It took him a second to process why Apollo was carrying two bowls with him, and then a smile broke out across his face. “Why, Herr Forehead, I didn’t realise you were moonlighting as a food delivery person. Could I hire you to bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow?” 

Apollo shoved the bowl towards him. “Shut up and eat your soup.” 

Klavier set his guitar down, and shuffled over to allow Apollo space to sit down next to him. 

When Klavier pressed against his shoulder, Apollo pressed back. 

Apollo held off for as long as he could, but when the head of his hoe snapped off while he was re-tilling his melon patch, he was left with no other choice. 

He was going to have to pay Simon Blackquill a visit. 

When he stepped inside the blacksmith’s, he was hit with a sweltering heat. Fire was blazing from the open forge, raising the temperature inside to an almost insufferable degree. He didn’t know how Blackquill tolerated it, especially in the dead of summer. Apollo had only been inside for less than a minute, and he was already desperate for the cool breeze outside. 

Blackquill made him wait until he was finished hammering what looked like a sword and the metal had cooled enough that he could set it aside. He lifted his safety goggles onto the top of his head, and took off his heavy duty work gloves. “Can I help you, Justice-dono?” 

Apollo swallowed. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Simon Blackquill necessarily, but… well… he was a little afraid of Simon Blackquill. 

“Is Athena home?” He glanced around the interior of the blacksmith’s for a flash of yellow or orange, but she didn’t seem to be around – not that he could blame her. He wouldn’t have braved this heat either if he had a choice. 

“Athena is on a bus trip into the desert with the younger Fey-dono. She won’t be back until later tonight.” 

Dammit. Apollo had hoped to visit the blacksmiths at a time when she might be home so he could have her as a buffer when dealing with Blackquill, but he should have known luck wouldn’t be in his favour. 

“That’s fine. I’m actually here to see you anyway.” 

Blackquill raised an eyebrow. “Have you finally come to replace the scrap metal you call tools?” 

“My tools are fine!” Apollo snapped out of reflex, and then sheepishly added, “But… yeah. My hoe broke and I need an upgrade.” 

He set the broken pieces on the counter. Blackquill picked up the head and turned it over in his hands, inspecting it. “No wonder it fell apart on you. With the amount of rust on this thing, it has to be decades old. Where in the bloody hell did you find this? An archaeological digsite?” 

Apollo crossed his arms, cheeks burning. “It was my Dad’s.” 

“If these are the tools of your trade, then I dread to think what other corners you’re cutting on that farm of yours. A true samurai would never allow his weapon to fall into such disrepair.” 

This was why Apollo avoided Simon Blackquill. He never had any idea what the hell he was talking about. “Can you fix it or not?” 

Blackquill picked up the handle next and examined the end where the head broke off. “Do you have the iron?” 

“...The what?” 

Blackquill wordlessly pointed at a sign on the wall that read ‘Customers must provide the required materials for all commissions.’ 

Apollo blanched. He was not informed of this requirement. “But… where am I supposed to get the iron?!”

“You have a pickaxe, don’t you?” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Blackquill set the broken hoe back down on the counter. It felt final, somehow. “I can’t make something out of nothing, Justice-dono. There’s a mine in the mountains by the waterfall. You can gather the iron there.” 

“You can’t just sell it to me?” 

Blackquill raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Do you have an extra couple grand lying around?” 

Apollo shrank back down. He didn’t have that kind of money, and he needed a new hoe. He couldn’t make money without one, and he couldn’t buy the materials outright without the money. He was trapped in a catch-22. 

“That’s what I thought.” Blackquill put his gloves back on. As far as he was concerned, this matter was as good as settled. “Go to the mines. Bring me the required iron, and I will upgrade your pathetic tools.” 

Apollo snatched his broken hoe off the counter in a huff. He may not have had a choice, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. “Fine.”

He stormed off towards the exit, but Blackquill stopped him just before he could leave. 

“And Justice-dono?” Blackquill pulled his goggles back down over his eyes, and flashed a twisted smirk, all teeth. “Be careful traversing through those caves. You never know what sort of creatures could be lurking in the dark.” 

His loud bark of a laugh followed Apollo as he stormed out of the building, the door slamming shut behind him. 

Blackquill was just trying to scare him, Apollo reasoned. There was no such thing as monsters. 

The opening cavern to the mines was damp and cool. There was some leftover equipment lying around from when Pelican Town was a thriving mining town – an abandoned minecart on unused tracks, a rickety elevator that looked out of service – but as far as he knew, no large-scale mining efforts had happened here in a long time. 

Apollo had been expecting the caves to be empty, but to his surprise, he found Ema Skye crouched down by a cluster of mushrooms, making notes on a clipboard, and Kay Faraday leaning against the wall next to her, a sword dangling in a sheath on her hip. 

“Oh, hi Polly!” Kay greeted him with a smile. Ema glanced at him, but quickly went back to what she was doing. “What brings you in here?” 

“I need a new hoe, but Blackquill won’t make me one unless I bring him the iron, so… here I am.” He waved the pickaxe he was carrying. 

“Yeah, he does that.” Kay laughed. “But he did make me the best sword I’ve ever wielded so it’s worth it! I’m sure once you get him that iron, you’ll be hoeing around like a champ in no time!” 

Ema snorted at the wording, but Apollo’s attention was drawn to the blade at Kay’s hip. He had seen her carrying a sword around town a few times, but he had never understood why she would need one. 

“Are you going in unarmed?” Kay asked, as if reading his mind. 

“I… do I need to be armed?” 

“Yes? The mines are dangerous, you know. There’s a reason nobody but me goes down there most days.” 

“And that reason is…?” 

“The monsters, of course!” She said in a voice far too chipper for Apollo’s liking. 

Apollo didn’t want to believe it. Kay and Blackquill must have been pulling his leg. This had to be some elaborate prank the two of them were pulling on him because he was new in town and didn’t know any better. 

…But when he thought back to his tour with Trucy, he remembered that she had said something about creatures living deep in the mines when she pointed out the entrance to him. He had thought she was just being dramatic at the time – there was nothing she loved more than putting on a show, after all – but now he wasn’t so sure. 

Before he had the chance to question Kay any further, she ran off to fetch him a spare sword from the Adventurer’s Guild (and now that he thought about it, he had wondered why Pelican Town would need such a guild in the first place), leaving him alone with Ema. 

“...Are there actually monsters in the mines?” he had to ask. 

Ema glanced at him. “Why? You scared?” 

“No! Of course not!” Apollo crossed his arms, defensive. “I was just… curious.” 

Ema shrugged and went back to examining her mushrooms. “Kay says there is, but I’ve never seen one. Although…” She tapped her pen against her chin in thought. “I have seen her wandering around town drenched in weird slime before.” 

“Weird slime?”

“Like a blueish-greenish goop. I don’t know how else to describe it. I want to go down deeper into the mines so I can do some scientific research on whatever that shit is, but Kay won’t let me. It’s too dangerous apparently.” She rolled her eyes as if her… friend? girlfriend? situationship? …caring about her safety was a huge inconvenience. 

(Apollo still wasn’t sure what their relationship to each other actually was, and Klavier had been less than helpful. “I won’t pretend to understand the intricate courting rituals of Fraulëins, Herr Forehead.”)

“Maybe the weird slime is just… algae.” 

Ema shot him a glare. “I’m a biologist, dumbass. I know what algae looks like.” 

“All right! Geez! I’m sorry!” Apollo held his hands up in a placating gesture. 

Ema glared at him for another long moment before turning back to work. “If Kay says there’s something down there, then I believe her, so just… stay away from weird slimes, I guess.” 

Apollo didn’t need to be told twice. 

Kay jogged back into the cavern with a second sword. It was smaller than the one on her hip, and not as polished either. It clearly hadn’t seen real use in some time. 

“If you’re going to go deeper into the mines then you need one of these,” Kay handed it to him, “but it would be irresponsible of me as the Adventurer's Guild guildmaster to give you a weapon you didn’t know how to use, so….”

She drew her sword and got into a fighting stance. She grinned, a fire burning in her eyes. 

“En garde!” 

Kay refused to let him venture off on his own until he was able to both swing his sword without dropping it and reliably block her attacks, but soon she let him go with the instruction to “scream if anything bad happens and I’ll come get you”.

There was no wind past the first level, and the air felt stale and claustrophobic. The upper levels of the mines had been picked clean by miners and adventurers past – and possibly by Kay herself, though Apollo got the impression she was less interested in resource gathering and more interested in treasure hunting – but abandoned torches meant that he at least didn’t have to navigate his way through the dark. The further down Apollo went, the colder it got, and while he had the foresight to wear his overalls instead of his shorts for this adventure, he wished he had thought to bring his hoodie as well. 

Ladder after ladder, Apollo descended deeper and deeper into the mines with little luck. He came across a vein of copper, and even stumbled upon some amethyst and topaz he couldn’t help but pocket, but his desired iron eluded him, nowhere to be seen. 

Apollo wouldn’t have minded so much if Kay’s and Blackquill’s warnings weren’t sticking in the back of his mind. Spelunking was kind of fun once he got the hang of it, and every precious gem he found was another improvement he could afford for the farm, but every flickering shadow and strange noise set him on edge. 

There was nothing in the mines, he reminded himself. There was no such thing as monsters. The others were just trying to scare him. He had climbed down pretty far and he had yet to see anything that could be considered ‘a weird slime’. He didn’t need to be so paranoid. 

…But still, he kept an eye out for any movement that couldn’t be easily attributed to insects or bats. 

It wasn’t until he passed a naturally formed underground lake that Apollo found what he was looking for – a bountiful vein of iron, ripe for the taking. In a rare bout of good luck, there even seemed to be just enough to mold into a new hoe. 

“Finally,” he muttered to himself, and got to work excavating it. 

His pickaxe clinked against the raw metal with every swing. The sound grated against his ears, amplified by the way it echoed all throughout the cavern, and he made the mental note to bring earplugs the next time he came. The iron was harder than the softer copper he had collected before and took more work to dig out of the cave wall, but soon he had what he came for and could make the journey back up. 

Suddenly, an odd squelching noise started behind him. Apollo whipped around, hand reaching for the hilt of his sword out of reflex, and his jaw dropped at what he saw. 

A round ball of slime, no bigger than Mikeko, was bouncing towards him. 

It was translucent and light green in colour. It had no eyes or other discernible features, but from the way it was moving, Apollo couldn’t deny that it was alive.

And coming right for him. 

“GAH!” He quickly drew his sword and pointed the blade at it, but it continued on in its approach unphased. 

Apollo retreated until his back hit the wall. The slime bounced onwards, and with one giant leap, it smacked against his thighs. 

He hissed and shut his eyes, unable to look. 

The squelching continued. He could feel something bumping against his legs, but it wasn’t painful. In fact, if he hadn’t seen what it was, he may have even mistaken it for Mikeko rubbing up against him to beg for treats. 

Apollo cracked open an eye. The slime left a sticky residue on his overalls, but otherwise, it was too small to do any real damage, completely harmless. 

“Oh.” Apollo let his guard drop. “You’re… actually kind of cute – as much as a weird shapeless blob can be cute, anyway.” 

He tentatively reached down to pat its head, but the second his skin made contact with its gel-like body, a sharp stinging sensation shot down his fingers. 

“Fuck!” Apollo jumped back, shaking out his hand. 

It may not have been able to hit hard, but its body was poisonous like the tentacles of a jellyfish. Apollo only hoped it wasn’t as deadly. 

The slime continued towards him. Apollo batted it away with his sword the best he could, but it was difficult to do any real damage to something so formless. 

He didn’t notice the second slime until it slammed into the back of his thighs. 

“GAH!” Apollo leaped away again. 

There were two advancing on him now, one green and one blue. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a third jump out from behind a stalagmite. 

Apollo was in way over his head. He hadn’t so much as held a sword until a few hours ago, and the slimes were multiplying at an alarming rate. When he did manage to slash one, it split into two equally aggressive slimes. 

He was fighting a losing battle. There was nothing he could do but run. 

Apollo turned on his heel to make a break for the ladder, but quickly skidded to a stop when a giant slime larger than the others combined rolled through a crevice. 

It was massive – so big that it struggled to move under its own weight. Instead of leaping like the other slimes, it dragged itself across the ground, leaving a trail of goop behind it like a snail. Apollo suddenly got a flashback to when he played D&D with Clay, and a gelatinous cube absorbed his poor paladin into its body until it killed him. 

This slime could absolutely consume him whole if it wanted to. He thought he saw a chunk of bone floating inside it. 

“H– HELP!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, and hoped that someone, somewhere might hear him. 

The giant slime knocked him to the ground. He landed on his wrist with a bone-breaking crack. 

The last thing Apollo remembered before he passed out from the pain was Kay dropping down from the ladder next to him. 

Apollo woke up on a cot in the doctor’s office, dazed and disoriented but alive. 

His right wrist was in a cast, his arms and torso were wrapped in bandages, and white gauze was taped over his left eye. 

But he was alive. 

Dr. Hertz insisted he spend at least one night at the doctor’s office so she could ensure he didn’t sustain a head injury, but reassured him that he could expect to be discharged tomorrow morning – a little inconvenient and mildly annoying, but not the worst. 

…She also informed him that he was not allowed to do any manual labour or heavy lifting until his wrist healed – which was a lot more inconvenient, and exponentially more annoying. 

The farm was his livelihood. He couldn’t afford his weekly expenses without it, or foot whatever medical bills this incident was going to land him. What was he supposed to do if he couldn’t work? 

More than that, the farm was his way of distracting himself from Clay’s death. He couldn’t think about how much he missed his best friend when he had chickens to feed, or vegetables to harvest, or renovations to make. He jumped from one task to the next, always busy, never idle, because if his brain was engaged, his mind wouldn’t wander, and if his mind didn’t wander, then he wouldn’t feel like his chest was going to collapse in on itself from the grief. 

Time, to be fair, had made the loss more manageable. He didn’t wake up sobbing anymore. He could listen to a Gavinners song without breaking down. He could look up at the night sky and think ‘I wonder if Clay’s up there somewhere’ without feeling heartbroken over the fact that he had never made it to the moon before he died. 

But, even with all the progress he had made, the idea of not having that distraction anymore, of being tapped alone with his thoughts until his wrist healed, terrified him. Even before Clay’s death, Apollo had never been good at resting. 

What was he supposed to do? 

When Nurse Niedler informed him that he had a guest, Apollo had been tempted to tell her to get rid of them, to let him wallow in his self-pity on his own, but he refrained – anything to stop himself from thinking about how he got to wake up in a hospital bed, but Clay didn’t. 

Apollo expected the visitor to be Trucy. He was not expecting Klavier Gavin and a bouquet of sunflowers. 

Klavier stepped through the curtain with a smile, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue the instant he saw Apollo, and his face fell. “Scheiße, your eye.” 

“My eye is fine.” Apollo waved off his concern. “I just got a bit of dirt in it when I fell, so the doctor is making me wear an eyepatch to stave off infection. I’ll be able to take it off in a couple of hours.” 

Klavier nodded, but Apollo’s reassurances did little to ease him and his gaze trailed over the rest of his injuries. “What happened? Fraulëin Thief said something about… slime?” 

Apollo winced. “Kay told you about me?” 

“She told everyone about you. She’s forbidding anyone from entering the mines at all until she controls the uh… slime population, I believe she called it? Fraulëin Scientist is particularly frustrated with the ban – not that that’s unusual for her, mind you.” 

Apollo groaned and covered his eyes with his non-broken arm. If Kay was running around town warning people not to enter the mines, then that meant everyone now knew of his little accident. It was embarrassing enough knowing that someone probably saw Kay carrying his unconscious body all the way from the mountains. 

His only consolation was that Klavier didn't know slimes existed either. 

“Did you know monsters are real?” 

Klavier shot him a look. “...Did you hit your head in the fall?” 

“No, no. That’s what happened to me. I got attacked by these… slime… creature… things.” 

“Slime creature things?” 

“Yeah, like… have you ever played Dragon Quest?” Apollo asked, only to remember exactly who he was talking to, and shook his head. “Nevermind. Of course you haven’t. You probably partied in high school.” 

“Not as much as you might think.” Klavier sat down in the chair by Apollo’s cot, and laid the sunflowers across his lap. 

“Well, there are these… blob… slime… ball… things down there, and they attacked me while I was mining some iron. They burned the hell out of my arms, and I guess I landed wrong when the big one knocked me over, because I broke my wrist as well.” 

Apollo walked Klavier through all of his injuries, explaining how he got each of them, and how the poisonous slime left red welts all over his skin. He couldn’t tell if Klavier believed him about the slimes, but between the evidence all over Apollo’s body and Kay’s testimony of events, he seemed to accept the story at any rate. 

“At least your poor forehead came away unscathed,” Klavier brushed Apollo’s drooping hair spikes out of his face. “A miracle, considering it’s such a sizable target.” 

Apollo smacked his hand away, cheeks flushed. “Your obsession with my forehead is starting to get weird.” A flash of yellow caught his eye, and he was reminded of the flowers in Klavier’s lap. “Are those for me?” 

Klavier smiled and handed him the bouquet. “Of course! It’s only polite to bring a patient flowers when you visit them in the hospital, ja?” 

“I think it’s generous to call this place a ‘hospital’,” Apollo pointed out, but took the sunflowers anyway. 

They were fresh and well taken care of with perfect yellow petals and a pleasant scent. Klavier must have bought them at the General Store next door for only Juniper could have grown and put together a bouquet as beautiful as this one. 

No one had ever gifted Apollo flowers before. He knew Klavier had only brought them to be polite, but it made something in his chest flutter regardless. 

“Thanks.” 

“Do you know what else is tradition?” Klavier pulled a silver sharpie out of his pocket. “Will you allow me the honour of being the first to sign your cast?” 

“Do you carry that everywhere you go?” 

“Of course! You never know when I might need to sign something for one of my adoring fans.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes, but shifted his position in the cot to allow Klavier better access to his arm. “If you write something embarrassing, then I’m going to let Trucy draw over it.” 

“Ach, she would never! She has an impeccable taste in music and knows exactly how much my signature is worth.” 

Klavier dragged his chair forward until one of the arms pressed up against the edge of the cot. He took Apollo’s cast and pulled it closer to him, his touch light and gentle as if afraid he would break his wrist again if he handled him too roughly. The feel of Klavier’s hands on him made his skin tingle, and it took everything in Apollo not to snap his arm away. 

“How long does the good doctor expect you to wear this?” Klavier asked as he scribbled on the blue plaster cast. 

Apollo groaned. “Too long, and I’m not allowed to work either until it’s fully healed. I don’t know how I’m supposed to run a farm if I can’t use any of my tools, because of course I was unlucky enough to land on my dominant arm. If I had at least broken my left, I could have maybe made it work.” 

Klavier tutted. “If Doktor Hertz recommends you shouldn’t work, then you shouldn’t work. It wouldn’t do if your wrist healed wrong, ja?” 

“But I can’t afford to take a break! I have too much work to do! The chickens need to be fed everyday, the next batch of corn is ready to be harvested, and I have to plant the melon seeds once Blackquill forges me a new hoe – and that’s not even getting into the fact that the barn still needs repairing, and the greenhouse needs to be replaced, and there’s still so many weeds to be pulled, and–”

Klavier laid a hand on shoulder. “Slow down, Schatz.” 

The pet name caught him so off guard that it succeeded in getting him to stop. Wasn’t that what Klavier had called his cat? 

“Which of those is the most pressing?” 

Apollo took a moment to think about it, mentally sorting everything in his to-do list by priority. “The chickens. They need to be fed and the eggs collected, but I think that’s something I can do one-handed.” 

“Okay, and the crops? What absolutely needs to be done this week?” 

“I… I think the only thing that needs to be done is watering everything and harvesting anything that’s ripe, which I think I could also manage to do one-handed,” he admitted. “But I have bills to pay, Klavier! And if I’m not planting new crops, then my profit margins are going to dip, and there’s still so much to do–”

“Apollo.” 

Klavier’s voice was calm and patient, his gaze soft and gentle. 

Apollo didn’t like how easily Klavier could grab his attention with one well-timed use of his name. 

“The barn, the greenhouse… all of that can wait, ja?” 

“I– I guess, but–”

“But you don’t like the idea of your earnings taking a hit because of your accident?” 

Apollo nodded. “Right, but I can’t use my tools with just my left hand – at least, not easily.” 

Klavier hummed, and tapped the bottom of his marker against the edge of the cot in thought. “The hoe is the issue, ja?” 

“Yeah. Planting the seeds shouldn’t be a problem, but the ground needs to be tilled first.” 

“Why don’t I do it for you?” 

Apollo blinked. “Huh?” 

Klavier smiled. “Let me do all the hoeing for you. I’ve been told I’m quite good with my hands.” He flexed his fingers in demonstration – long guitar-playing fingers that Apollo doubted had ever done a day of manual labour in his life. 

“Klavier, I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” 

“But what about your songwriting retreat? Don’t you have music you should be working on?” 

Klavier let out a small laugh and ran those long fingers through his hair in what Apollo was beginning to recognise as a nervous tic. “My muse has not been singing to me lately, I’m afraid. You would not be pulling me away from my work because not much work has been happening.” He flashed a wry smile. “But! Perhaps spending a little time outdoors doing something productive will help get the lyrics flowing again, ja?” 

Apollo wasn’t sure about that logic, but he supposed he didn’t know enough about songwriting to dispute it. “Do you even know how to farm?” 

“Nein, but neither did you before you moved here, I believe you told me once.” 

“And didn’t you say that you’ve killed everything you tried to grow?” 

“With your expert tutelage, I’m confident I could turn my luck around.” Klavier moved to lay a hand on Apollo’s arm, but thought better of it once he remembered the bandages. “Look. I will not force you to accept my help if you truly do not want it, but if you’re adamant about maintaining your crops, then I’m willing to assist you in any way I can. Let me be your hands, Herr Forehead – just until your own heals, and then I’ll be out of your spiky hair.” 

Apollo bit his lip. He had never been good at accepting help, and even worse at relying on other people. He had been let down too many times, and experience had shown him time and time again that he couldn’t depend on anyone but himself. 

…But he didn’t have a choice this time, did he? The work needed to be done, and he couldn’t do it by himself. As embarrassing as it was, he would have to accept Klavier’s help. 

“...Only until my wrist is healed,” Apollo reluctantly gave in, “and then you can go back to your music.” 

“Super! I’ll drop by your farm tomorrow, bright and early.” 

Klavier finished scribbling a message on Apollo’s arm and sat back in his seat, capping his marker. 

Get well soon, HF! Careful not to injure yourself any further, ja? 

He finished it off with what Apollo assumed was his autograph, complete with the trademark ‘G’ and a silver heart on the end. The message was sweet, and he had abbreviated that terrible nickname to save space which meant Apollo could pretend the letters meant something else. 

Tomorrow, Apollo was going to teach this flashy rockstar how to farm. 

…Maybe Kay should have let the slimes disintegrate him. 

When Trucy found out that Klavier had offered to help Apollo on the farm until his wrist healed, she was quick to volunteer her help as well. Apollo had been glad to have them at first – surely having twice the hands would mean his chores would be completed in half the time – but he was quickly proven wrong. 

“Looking good, Klavier!” Trucy cheered. 

“Do you think so, Fraulëin?” Klavier braced Apollo’s brand new iron hoe on his shoulder and posed. “Do I look like a real farmer?” 

“Even more than Polly!” 

Klavier was dressed in brand new work boots and violet coveralls, though he had folded down the top half and tied the sleeves around his waist to better survive the heat. His black tank top showed off his toned arms, his makeup was simple, and his hair was artfully tied up in a bun on the top of his head. All in all, he looked more like a rockstar playing a farmer in a music video than an actual farmer, but Apollo wasn’t going to be too mean about it when Klavier was doing him a favour. 

“Can you two stop fucking around? We have work to do.” Apollo put a hand on his hip, but he feared his stance wasn’t as authoritative as he hoped considering his other arm was dangling in a sling. 

“Right, of course.” Klavier dropped the pose. “What do you need me to do, Herr Forehead? Direct me.” 

Apollo led them both over to his crops. Many of them had ripened while he was stuck in the mines and then the doctor’s office, but picking them was something he could do himself as long as he had Trucy to hold the basket for him. It was more important to get Klavier set up and working. 

“Do you see this square patch of soil where nothing is growing?” Apollo pointed out the outline of the empty patch with his toe. “I need you to till the ground for me so we can replant the melons.” 

Klavier nodded. “And… how does one do that?” 

“You just sort of… swing it at the ground to break up the dirt.” Apollo mimed the action with his good hand. When Klavier still looked confused, he brought him over to an empty expanse of land that he hadn’t done anything with yet. “You can practise here if you want.” 

Klavier hesitantly gripped the hoe and swung it. His form was terrible, and the blade bounced off the ground, leaving only a shallow dent. 

“Well, you can swing it a little harder than that.” 

Klavier made a second attempt, and while the hoe broke ground this time, his form still wasn't quite right. 

“You need to stand up straighter.” 

Klavier straightened out his back. 

“And your hands are too far up the handle.” 

“Ach, you’re stricter than my old piano tutor,” Klavier muttered. 

Feeling a little guilty for being so critical, Apollo tried a different, gentler approach. “Here, let me show you.” He took one of Klavier’s hands and moved it lower down the handle, and then adjusted the other to match. “Put your hands here,” he lightly touched Klavier’s back, “and stand up straight. You’ll have a better grip on the hoe, and are less likely to hurt yourself too. Got it?” 

It took a second for Klavier to respond. “Hm? Oh, ja, I’ve got it.” 

“Now try.” 

This time, Klavier managed a much stronger and more comfortable swing and easily broke through the soil. Once he had practiced a few more times, Apollo led him back over to his vegetable patch. 

“I just need you to till this area as best you can. I don’t care if your lines aren’t straight – just don’t hit the other plants.” 

“There are not many things I do that could be classified as ‘straight’, Herr Forehead,” Klavier winked at him, “but you can count on me.” 

Apollo watched him for a moment just to make sure he really was okay, and then turned to put Trucy to work as well, only to catch her watching them with a knowing grin. “What?” 

“Nothing!” she chimed, too innocent. “What do you want me to do?” 

While Klavier tilled, Apollo recruited Trucy in helping him harvest the other crops. Some, like his hot peppers, were easy to pluck off their plants one-handed and he could easily do it by himself. Others, like the corn, required two hands, and so he walked Trucy through how to identify when they were ripe and how to safely remove them without damaging the stalk. It was frustrating how much he had to rely on other people to complete the simple tasks he did almost daily, but it was a relief they were getting done at all. 

As they worked, Apollo had intended to keep an eye on Klavier to make sure he wasn’t struggling, but when he caught a glimpse of him through the crops, his gaze wandered. Klavier's biceps tightened and contracted with every swing of the hoe. He had worked up a light sweat in the fierce summer heat. His brow was furrowed in intense concentration as he put too much work into making the lines perfectly straight, grumbling to himself when he found they were slightly crooked. 

Trucy giggled next to him, snapping him out of his daze. “What?” 

“Nothing!” she sang, once again wearing that too innocent smile. 

“I’m just making sure he’s doing okay.” 

“Uh huh.” 

It wasn't until Apollo had picked another two hot peppers that Trucy explained herself. 

“...I told you he was dreamy.” 

Apollo shushed her, even going as far as trying to cover her mouth with his palm, but she easily ducked under his arm, giggling all the while. Apollo just hoped Klavier didn’t hear her teasing comments. He didn't want him to get any wrong ideas. 

Trucy finished harvesting the corn faster than Apollo finished picking the hot peppers, so he instructed her to get started on the next crop down the line. 

“Oh!” Trucy exclaimed. “I didn’t know you planted blueberries!” 

Klavier looked up from his hoeing. “You planted blueberries?” 

“Yeah, I mean… you said they were your favourite, so….” Apollo’s blushed. He hadn’t meant anything by it, but Trucy’s teasing was getting to him and he realised how this must look from her perspective. 

“That was very kind of you,” Klavier smiled, fond and genuine. 

Apollo couldn’t look at him. “Yeah, so you better buy some so they don’t all go to waste.” 

“Of course! I’ll buy your entire supply!”

“Can you even eat that many?” 

“I’ll share them. Fraulëin Scientist is more willing to tolerate me when she has snacks.” 

Klavier turned away, and as expected, much to Apollo’s chagrin, Trucy stifled a laugh and muttered under her breath, “Oh my god.” 

“Shut up!” Apollo hissed. “It’s not like thatI I literally did the same thing for you!” 

“I know,” Trucy said in a sing-song voice as she began picking the blueberries, “but you didn’t hold my hands when you were showing me how to shuck the corn.” 

“He’s more helpless when it comes to this stuff than you are! He needs the extra guidance!” 

“I’m sure that’s it.” 

“It is it!” 

“I believe you,” Trucy said in such a way that heavily implied she did not believe him in the slightest. 

Apollo huffed, and didn’t bother arguing with her any further. There was nothing he could say that was going to change her mind anyway. 

The frustrating part was that he genuinely wasn’t trying to flirt with Klavier or whatever Trucy thought they were doing. Apollo was just being nice, and Klavier was like that with everyone. 

He supposed, if Trucy was going to twist his arm about it, he could admit that Klavier was attractive, and kind, and charming, and understood what he was going through in a way no one else did (even if Apollo had yet to be fully honest with him about why he had moved here), but that didn’t mean he was pursuing him or anything! Apollo had eyes. He could recognise a beautiful person when he saw one. 

But what was he supposed to do about it when he wasn’t looking for a relationship? He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment so soon after losing someone important to him. Besides, Klavier was eventually going to go back to being a rockstar, and Apollo would return to the law office, and then where would that leave them? Apollo doubted there was room for a nobody like him in Klavier’s glamorous celebrity life – assuming he would even give Apollo a second look to begin with – and Apollo wasn’t going to waste his time with a relationship that was doomed from the start. 

So no, contrary to whatever Trucy thought she saw, he wasn’t flirting with Klavier, and there was nothing going on between them. 

The rest of their workday passed by uneventfully. Once the ground was tilled, Apollo instructed Trucy and Klavier on how to plant and water the melon seeds, and soon their chores were complete. To celebrate, they sat on the porch steps and snacked on the freshly picked blueberries that Klavier promised to pay for once he visited an ATM. 

“That was quite the workout,” Klavier rolled his shoulders and stretched out his arms. “Perhaps I should help you on the farm everyday, and then I’ll never have to go to the gym again.” 

“It’s exhausting, but I have gotten a lot stronger now that I’m chopping wood all the time.” He pushed up his sleeve and flexed his bicep – mostly because he wanted to see the firm muscle for himself, but he couldn’t deny the little thrill it gave him when he caught Klavier looking. “But you don’t have to come by anymore once my wrist has healed.”

“I’m more than happy to help if you need it, Herr Forehead – broken wrist or not.” Klavier plucked a blueberry from the basket resting in Apollo’s lap and popped it into his mouth. 

“I know, but… I can do everything myself – when I’m not injured, anyway – so you really don’t have to.” 

“Polly’s bad at asking for help,” Trucy piped up. She was right, but that didn’t mean she had to say it. 

“I’m fine. You both are already doing a lot for me, and I don’t want to ask you to do anymore. I’m stealing enough of your time as it is.” 

“Now that the Gavinners have disbanded, I have nothing but time,” Klavier reassured him. “You are not pulling me away from anything but staring at blank sheet music and wishing my muse would return. You are saving me from the agony of writer’s block, so if anything, I should be thanking you.” 

“And it’s summer!” Trucy added. “I have all the time in the world until classes start!” 

“Don’t you have summer reading or something to do?” Apollo asked. 

“Yeah, but I don’t need to go to college to be a magician, so my grades don’t matter.” Trucy shrugged. 

“College or not, your schoolwork is still important, Trucy!”

“Anyway,” she barrelled onwards, smiling brightly at him, “we’re your friends, and what else are friends for?” 

Friends. 

That was a term Apollo had adamantly been avoiding. 

When he first moved to Stardew Valley, he had no intention of making friends. He had just lost Clay, and the thought of losing another was enough to push him into keeping his distance. 

And yet, somehow, despite his best efforts, he had made friends anyway. 

There was no sense in denying it. Trucy and Klavier were his friends. Hell, if he was fully honest with himself, Trucy had been his friend ever since she blew into his life like a hurricane that very first week. Apollo couldn’t pinpoint exactly when he had become friends with Klavier, but he couldn’t deny that it happened when they wouldn’t be here otherwise. 

It was scary, having more people in his life he was now scared to lose, but with Klavier smiling on one side of him and Trucy beaming at him on the other, he didn’t know how he ever managed without them. 

He just hoped that this time, fate wouldn't take his only friends away. 

Apollo was tinkering about the farm, taking care of various odds and ends before Klavier and Trucy came by to help with that morning’s chores when he saw he had a visitor. 

“Oh! Hey!” Maya exclaimed as if she was surprised to see him on his own farm. 

“Um… hey,” Apollo returned, eyeing the tote bag over her shoulder curiously. “Can I help you?” 

“Oh, I’m just here to tidy up the shrine.” Maya pointed a thumb at the stone memorial in the back corner of the property. “Though I suppose now that you’re living here, maybe you’d prefer to maintain it yourself, huh?” 

“No, it’s okay. I like knowing someone’s taking care of it.” 

Although, if he was honest, he thought Datz was the one leaving offerings since he had caught him lurking around that area a couple times. Apollo didn’t know how he had never run into Maya before. 

“Great! This will only take a couple minutes, and then I’ll be out of your hair.” 

Apollo walked with her to the shrine, curious now. 

He hadn’t interacted with Maya much. He was more familiar with Pearl, considering she would tag along with Trucy to the farm sometimes and the pair were usually together at the Kitaki’s, but he had never had much reason to speak with Maya. All he knew about her was that she lived in that strange tower deep in the forest, she had custody over Pearl, and she was a close friend of Mr. Wright. The gravekeeping was new to him. 

Apollo watched as Maya pulled an old rag and a spray can of furniture polish out of her tote bag, and began wiping down the granite. “So… do you do this… often…?” 

“About once or twice a season or so,” Maya explained. “My job is to maintain the graveyard in town, but it never felt right cleaning up those memorials while leaving this one to gather dust. I just think his spirit would appreciate it, you know?” 

“Right.” Apollo shifted uncomfortably. 

He knew Maya wasn’t taking a jab at him for not taking better care of it himself, but it was hard not to feel guilty anyway. He hadn’t visited Dhurke’s grave as much as he should have – not that he had the means to when he was buried in Khura’in, but still. A better son would have found a way. It certainly never stopped Nahyuta. 

“He was your Dad, right? Mr. Sahdmadhi?” 

Apollo swallowed. “Something like that.” 

“He was a good man. Sis and I used to sneak up here when we couldn’t deal with Aunt Morgan’s bullshit, and he’d let us pick as many of his strawberries as we liked. I don’t think he expected us to eat so many, but hey! A growing girl needs her berries!” She laughed to herself. “I don’t know if you remember us. You and your brother were just babies then.” 

“I don’t, sorry.” 

“I figured,” Maya waved off the apology, “but anyway. It feels good to take care of him like he took care of us all those years ago. It feels like I’m paying him back for his kindness.” 

Apollo knew the feeling. Sometimes, when he was working on the farm, he would wonder if Dhurke had done the same things back when he still lived here. Did his back hurt at the end of a long day of pulling weeds as well? Had he ever considered installing a well on the far side of the farm to make watering the crops easier? How many chickens did he raise before he decided there was one too many? 

It wasn’t his intention for moving here, but repairing the old buildings and planting new crops made Apollo feel like he was honouring him, in a way. He could almost hear that booming laugh echoing through the valley. 

When Maya finished cleaning, she laid a small bundle of flowers on the shelf, and then lit the candles with a lighter from her pocket. “There! Good as new!” She tidied away her supplies. “The candles are magic and will extinguish themselves in a couple hours – assuming the wind doesn’t get to them first, anyway – so don’t worry about them starting a fire or anything.” 

Apollo nodded. “Thanks for this – and for taking care of it for so long too.” 

“Eh, it was no trouble! I was happy to do it!” 

Maya turned to him and looked him over. Apollo wasn’t sure what she saw, but her eyes softened. 

“You know… gravekeeping isn't my only job.” She gave him a gentle smile. “I’m also a spirit medium.” 

…A what? 

“If you ever want to contact the dead – whether it’s Mr. Sahdmadhi or somebody else – then drop by Fey Tower anytime. All I need is a name and a photo, and I’ll channel them, no questions asked. It’s a nice way to get some closure, if you need it.” 

Apollo wasn’t sure he believed contacting the dead was possible, but after the incident in the mines, he had learned not to be so skeptical. 

It wasn’t Dhurke his mind jumped to, however. Apollo had made his peace with his death a long time ago. There were no unanswered questions there, no doubts over how Dhurke would feel about the direction his life had taken. If Maya channeled him, then he would clap Apollo on the shoulder, and tell him he was proud – for the lawyering, for the farming, all of it. It would be nice to hear, but he didn’t need to hear it. 

What he wanted, what he needed, was one last conversation with Clay so he could say goodbye to him the way he never got the chance to before he passed. The wound Clay left in him was still fresh, and he would do anything to see him again. 

The problem was that Apollo wasn’t ready. He didn’t want Clay to see him when his life was still such a mess. He knew, deep down, Clay wouldn’t approve of him upending his life so drastically because he couldn’t handle the grief. He certainly wouldn’t approve of him pushing people away, even if he had managed to make new friends in spite of it (and god, he would kill to see Clay’s reaction if he found out one of those friends was Klavier Fucking Gavin). 

Maybe one day, once he had sorted his shit out, he would look into this spirit channeling thing, but for now, he thought it best to let him rest. He didn’t want Clay to worry about him, wherever he was. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“You know where to find me.” Maya gave his arm a squeeze, but didn’t ask any questions for which he was grateful. “Oh! And if you ever grow any bok choy, then save me some, will you? God, I’ve been craving some good miso soup so bad lately, it’s not even funny.” 

Apollo bid her goodbye, and walked with her to the southern exit. After she left, he stood by the memorial, reading the inscription over and over until Trucy bounded up to him, ready to work. 

Apollo had hoped that fishing would be doable with a broken wrist since it mostly involved sitting on the dock and waiting, but he was quickly proven wrong. He didn’t have the strength to hold the rod when a fish caught the line, and even when he did manage to reel one in, he couldn’t grab it in the net with one hand and the fish would flop back into the ocean. Datz was kind enough to give him a couple of crab pots to use in the meantime – much simpler, as all he had to do was set some bait and wait – and so he had left a few along his usual fishing spot overnight. 

Apollo had been on his way to check them when he heard a commotion on the beach. 

“Fraulëin! Please!” Klavier’s desperate voice cut through the usual tranquility. He was dripping wet in nothing but a pair of swim trunks, his damp hair clinging to the side of his face. He must have just stepped out of the ocean before Apollo arrived. 

“Not a chance, pretty boy!” Apollo didn’t notice the woman Klavier was speaking to until he heard her shrill voice. “Do you know how many publications are scrabblin’ for a picture of you nowadays? I ain’t givin’ up my big scoop for nothin’!” 

The woman held up an expensive looking camera, and Apollo’s stomach dropped. 

Oh no. 

“Fraulëin, I understand that this is your profession,” Klavier said with all the patience he could muster, which wasn’t much, “but I must kindly ask you to delete the picture. I disappeared from the public eye for a reason. Please respect my privacy and do not go to the tabloids about this.” 

“Tabloids? Hey, I’ll have you know I’m a genuine journalist! I don’t get involved in any of that crap!” She crossed her arms. 

“I didn’t mean to insult you, but the kinds of publications who would purchase such a picture from you are not known for their integrity.” 

“Whatever. All I know is the whole world is beggin’ to know where international superstar Klavier Gavinner has disappeared to, and writin’ that story could be my big break!”

“Gavin, Fraulëin. Klavier Gavin.” He rubbed his temples, exasperated. 

“So bribe me all you want, but I will not be bought! I’m takin’ this bad boy all the way to the bank!” 

Apollo didn’t know what came over him. He had never done anything like this before. All he knew was that Klavier was upset and stressed out, and that whatever was on that camera could not be allowed to see the light of day. 

Apollo marched up to the journalist and snatched it right out of her hands. 

“HEY! What in the Sam Hill are you doin’?! Give that back!” 

He ran forward, and with all the skill of a quarterback during the Superbowl, hurled it as far down the beach as he could throw it. Apollo had never been good at sports – he especially had never been good at sports left-handed – but the camera sailed through the air in a perfect arc until it landed in the ocean with a satisfying plonk. 

It didn’t hit him what he had done until he turned back to Klavier and the journalist, and caught them staring at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed. 

Apollo put his good hand on his hip and stood up straight with a bravado he did not possess. “He said no pictures.” 

It took forty-five minutes, a cheque for a new camera, and the promise of an exclusive interview before Klavier could calm the journalist down enough that she was not only willing to leave, but had agreed not to press charges against them for destroying her property. Apollo probably should have felt bad about it, but he didn’t. Paparazzi were vultures, and she deserved everything she got. 

He did, however, feel guilty for causing Klavier so much unnecessary trouble. 

“Well, that was eventful,” Klavier said as he sat down on the sand next to where Apollo was wallowing. He had put on a patterned shirt since the incident, but had left the buttons undone and his chest exposed. 

“Klavier, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“You, Schatz, have nothing to apologise for. You were not the one threatening to reveal my location to the press.” 

Apollo turned to him, incredulous. “Wait, that’s what she was doing?!” 

Klavier gave him a tight smile. “Haven’t you seen the headlines? My fans are desperate to know where I am and what I’ve been doing since the Gavinners disbanded. Fraulëin Papparazzo wasn’t wrong; that picture would have gone for a pretty penny.” 

“That’s… fucked up.” 

“Immeasurably, but ach, what can you do? It comes with the territory, unfortunately.” 

“That doesn’t make it right!” Apollo’s voice raised a couple decibels. “Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you’re not entitled to your privacy like everybody else!”

“I appreciate the righteous outrage, Schatz, but there is nothing that can be done. This is my life now. There is no sense in complaining about it.” 

Bitterness laced the edges of Klavier’s words. Apollo got the impression that this was bothering him a lot more than he was letting on. 

“Well, I’m glad I destroyed her camera.” He stubbornly crossed his arms, fuming on Klavier’s behalf. 

“I really shouldn’t be condoning such behaviour, but… I’m glad you did too. My knight in garish red.” 

Klavier wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and Apollo pushed him away, his cheeks burning when his fingers grazed his bare chest. “You, of all people, have no right to be calling anybody garish.” 

Klavier laughed, but there was something about it that rang hollow. As hard as he tried to hide it, this run-in with the journalist had clearly unsettled him, and Apollo could see the cracks in his porcelain mask. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Of course.” Klavier plastered on a smile. “You took care of the problem. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Apollo frowned. “Klavier–”

“How’s the Kätzchen?” He changed the subject, unsubtle and forced. 

It didn’t sit right with Apollo to move on, but he couldn’t make Klavier talk about it if he didn’t want to. He pulled out his phone to show him a video of Mikeko playing in a cardboard box, but even as Klavier’s shoulders began to relax and the stress lines in his face smoothed out, Apollo couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

Summer ended as quickly as it began, and soon Apollo had been in Stardew Valley for two whole seasons. It was only a matter of time before Nahyuta would be sending him another letter wondering when he was coming back to Zuzu City, but that question would have to wait for a little while longer. There was still so much Apollo wanted to do on the farm. Maybe in the winter he would consider going home – he wouldn’t have any crops to cultivate then – but for now, he was content to stick it out. 

On the last night of summer, everyone gathered on the beach to watch the Dance of the Moonlight Jellies. Apollo wasn’t quite sure what that was – something about glowing jellyfish? – but Ema was excited and she was never excited about anything, so he figured he’d give it a shot. 

 Apollo scanned the beach for a quiet place to watch. Ema was rambling to a lovestruck Kay on one dock. Mr. Gumshoe was lighting lanterns on small wooden boats and showing Trucy and Pearl how to sail them on another. By Datz’s fishing shack, Mr. Edgeworth, who had no responsibilities to attend to for this particular event, was leaning against the wall Mr. Wright, and affectionately rolling his eyes at whatever dumb joke he just cracked. 

Every inch of the pier was occupied, and Apollo was debating third-wheeling Athena and Juniper when he spotted Klavier sitting alone on the dock furthest down the beach. 

Even since that incident with the paparazzo, Klavier had been unusually quiet. It wasn’t that he didn’t talk – he was as chatty as ever when he came by the farm – but his usually larger-than-life demeanour was noticeably subdued, and Apollo had caught him sulking more than once when he thought nobody was looking. There was clearly something bothering him, and while the others may have fallen for the charming facade, Apollo was determined to rip it off. 

The bustle died down the further Apollo ventured up the beach until their distant voices were barely audible over the waves crashing against the shore. Klavier was lost in thought when he approached him, and didn’t notice him until he spoke. “Mind if I join you?” 

Klavier jumped at the sound of his voice, and dramatically gripped his chest. “Oh! Herr Forehead! You startled me!” He shuffled over to make room for him. “Not at all! The more the merrier, ja?” 

Apollo sat down and dangled his feet over the edge, watching Klavier out of the corner of his eye. He was in his ripped jeans and v-neck shirt, and his hair was still in a bun from when he was helping Apollo on the farm earlier that day. He was wearing a little makeup, but overall, his appearance was more muted than what Apollo had come to expect from him. 

“Have you seen the jellyfish before?” 

Klavier shook his head. “Nein, I arrived here towards the end of fall. The jellies are new to me too, but I’m told they are quite majestic.” 

Apollo peered into the water for any sign of glowing jellyfish, but depths were too dark and lifeless. “I don’t see anything.” 

“Patience, my dear Forehead. You can’t rush nature. They’ll come out as soon as they are ready.” 

The cool night air pinched at his skin. This far away from the fishing shack, their only light was from the waxing moon, and the odd wooden lantern boat that drifted down the shore. Apollo looked up at the stars and wondered if Clay would have been as into the glowing jellyfish as Ema – possibly, though biology had never caught his interest quite like space. 

“How’s the wrist?” Klavier asked. 

Apollo flexed his fingers. His cast had been decorated all over in doodles courtesy of Trucy and Athena since Klavier first signed it. Mr. Wright had initialled it like Apollo was a human contract. 

“Alright. It doesn’t hurt as much and I don’t have to wear the sling anymore, but I’m stuck with the cast for at least another week. I was hoping I could get it off before the fall crops need to be planted, but apparently I’m not that lucky.” 

“You know I don’t mind helping you.” 

“I know, but I hate relying on other people for things I can do on my own.” 

“I can tell. I was worried I would have to wrestle the hoe out of your hands this morning.” 

Apollo huffed, stubborn as ever. “I still think I could have removed those weeds myself.” 

“And I still think you need to follow the good doctor’s orders.” Klavier, at least, seemed more amused by Apollo’s bullheadedness than anything else. “You don’t want to be stuck in that cast forever, ja?” 

Apollo knew that Klavier was right but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. “I never should have told you I was banned from working.”

Klavier laughed. “You may have been able to hide from me, given how rarely I am in that part of the Valley ordinarily, but you never would have fooled Fraulëin Magician. She would have ratted you out faster than you could say ‘Abracadabra’.”

“Yeah, she’s annoying like that.” Apollo faked a sigh, but he couldn’t help that little bubble of affection that burst in his heart. 

“Just think: one more week, and you’ll be free to pull as many weeds as you like.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

Klavier smiled, but once the conversation died down, his smile died with it. He looked every bit the tortured artist as he stared off into the horizon, moonlight illuminating his troubled expression and a cool breeze blowing through his hair. What Apollo wouldn’t give to know what was going on in that pretty blonde head. 

“Klavier?” 

“Ja?” 

“Are you… doing okay?” 

Klavier turned to him. “I’m on the beach with my favourite neighbour. I’m doing wonderbar.”

There was that smile again – the one that was a little too practiced, a little too rehearsed. 

That was something Apollo was beginning to notice about Klavier. Any time things got personal, any time someone caught a glimpse of what he was really feeling, Klavier would don the celebrity persona like he was putting on a coat. All traces of genuine emotion would disappear from his face in favour of that fake rehearsed smile. 

Apollo could practically see the mask click into place. One second Klavier was staring into the horizon, and the next, he was cheesing at him like Apollo was about to take his picture. It was uncanny, unnatural, and Apollo didn’t like it when he hid himself like that. 

“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know.” 

Klavier blinked. “What?” 

“That thing you do where you pretend you’re okay when you’re not. You don’t have to do that.” 

Klavier stared at him for a moment, stunned. He must not have been called out on that before. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He let out a weak laugh and twirled a lock of his hair. 

“You play with your hair when you’re nervous.” 

Klavier let go, and reached for his fingers instead. 

“You play with your rings too.” 

“Ach, why are you so perceptive?!” He slapped his knees and gripped them, self-conscious and unsure what else to do with his hands. 

Maybe Apollo was pressing too hard. Klavier’s frustration was bleeding through the mask and he was clinging on to that plastic smile by a thread. Now that they were on this road, however, Apollo felt obligated to follow it to its end. “You’ve been acting weird ever since that incident with the journalist on the beach. Did something else happen?” 

“No, nothing happened.” 

“Then what’s going on? And don’t say nothing, because you and I both know that’s bullshit.” 

Klavier stared down into the ocean. He clenched and unclenched his hands. His jaw was locked tight, his lips pressed into a thin line, and Apollo was beginning to worry he really had pushed him too far when the fight seemed to leave him all at once. Klavier heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, shoulders falling. “I suppose there’s no sense in hiding anything from you, is there Herr Forehead?” 

“I don’t mean to pry or anything,” he hastily added, guilty now, “I’m just… worried about you, I guess.” 

Klavier’s gaze softened, but he still wouldn’t look at him. “That’s kind of you, but there is nothing for you to worry about. Nothing happened to me that hasn’t already been happening to me nearly every week for the past nine, almost ten years. I’m simply… tired.” 

“Tired?” 

Klavier hummed an affirmative, and didn’t elaborate. Apollo gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. 

The waves rolled up the shore. In the distance, a loud sharp laugh rang out across the beach – Athena’s if he had to guess. For a second, Apollo thought he saw a jellyfish glowing below the surface, but it turned out to be the reflection of the moon as it emerged from behind a cloud. 

“Can I be honest with you?” Klavier asked. 

Apollo nodded. 

“I… did not come to Stardew Valley for a songwriting retreat. The songwriting retreat was a convenient excuse. I came because… I needed an escape.” 

“An escape?” 

Klavier nodded. “The press and the paparazzi have always been aggressive. That is nothing new. However, when the band broke up… Well, I suppose I finally hit my breaking point.” He toyed with his rings again. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever been famous, Herr Forehead?” 

Klavier had to have known he wasn’t, but Apollo humoured him anyway. “Not unless getting my picture in the school paper counts.” When Klavier gave him a curious look, he added, “I was on the debate team. Won a couple competitions.” 

“That doesn't surprise me.” Klavier laughed lightly. “But nein, my name is known on a scale a tad larger than that, and when you become a household name… suddenly your privacy becomes a thing of the past.” 

Apollo recalled the articles he stumbled across when he went on that Google spree. KlavGav’s new boy toy. How to get perfect skin like Klavier Gavin’s in ten easy steps. Meet the woman Guilty Love was REALLY about. 

Apollo wished he could throw all of their cameras into the ocean too. 

“I’ve had stalkers. I’ve had paparazzi camp outside my home. One ambitious fan sneaked onto our tour bus and no one noticed until we were twenty miles down the highway.” 

“Jesus.” 

“It was fun at first, the fame and the attention, and at seventeen I could rationalise it as ‘well, at least they like me’. Now that I’m pushing thirty, however… I’m tired, Apollo. I’m really really tired.” 

He looked tired, not that Apollo would tell him that. He could understand how being constantly subjected to that kind of behaviour would weigh someone down. “So when the band broke up…?”

“It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. I was already having a hard time. The Gavinners were a solid ten years of my life – more than that, if you count the preceding years when Daryan and I would play shows out of my brother’s garage – and losing those friendships were… well, it wasn’t easy.”

“You don’t talk to any of them?” 

Klavier laughed bitterly. “Gott no. I kept in touch with a few of them for a while, but once it became clear the band was gone for good, they moved on to other career opportunities. Daryan… he never liked that the band was named after me. We had a fight. We had many, many fights. I don’t think I will be hearing from him again anytime soon.” 

Klavier skirted around the reason for the breakup, but Apollo could paint a picture in his mind. Jealousy was a vicious feeling to shake off once it had taken root. He could understand it to an extent – Apollo wasn’t sure how he would feel about being in a band called The Terrans – but he couldn’t imagine ruining a longstanding friendship over it. Klavier was vain at times, but he was so kind too that Apollo couldn’t imagine him not uplifting and supporting his bandmates every chance he got. 

It was a messy situation. There were a lot of details Apollo wasn’t privy too and that he doubted he would ever be privy to. He might never know what event triggered the breakup, or whose fault it was, if anyone’s. All he did know was that Klavier was his friend, and he was hurting, and Apollo would do whatever it took to make that pain go away. 

“Anyway,” Klavier brought them back on track, “the press have been hounding me about the disbandment ever since. I couldn’t leave my apartment without them following me to my hog, bombarding me with rumours they heard and demanding statements about events that never happened. I had been growing weary with the celebrity lifestyle for a long time. I had thought about quitting the band several times before the end finally came. This incident was simply the last straw. I just… couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to get away for a little while, go somewhere where nobody knew who I was. Tiny little Pelican Town was the perfect reprieve." He smiled to himself. 

Slowly, the pieces fell into place. “So when that journalist showed up….” 

Klavier’s smile faded. “The bubble burst. I thought everything I had run away from had caught back up to me, and I still worry that Fraulëin will go back on her word and tell the world where I disappeared to. I… I’m not ready to go back, Herr Forehead. I like the peace and tranquility of the beach. I like being able to go into town without worrying about tomorrow’s headlines.” Klavier buried his face in his hands. “Gott, if the wrong person saw us right now, we would be fighting back dating rumours for months.” 

Apollo chose not to tell him about Trucy’s suspicions. “If it helps at all, I don’t think she’s going to say anything now. I think you appeased her with that interview.” 

“Ja, but I wish I never had to do an interview at all. I don’t want to do another interview ever again. Sometimes, I wish I could just… change my name, and disappear into the sunset, and let the world forget that Klavier Gavin ever existed.” 

I like knowing that Klavier Gavin exists, Apollo didn’t vocalise. It wasn’t the point. It wouldn’t make him feel better about strangers clamouring to know every little detail of his private life. 

It was a difficult problem to deal with, but it was one that, to Apollo, had an obvious solution. 

“Then quit.” 

Klavier looked up from his hands. “What?” 

“If you don’t want to be famous anymore, then quit.” Apollo shrugged. “You don’t have to go back if you really don’t want to.” 

“I… I can’t just stop being famous, Herr Forehead. It’s not that simple.” 

“It could be.” Klavier was looking at him as if he was crazy. Apollo shifted to better face him. “Look at it this way: the band is dead, right?” 

“As a doornail.” 

“And do you have any other work you need to go back to the city for?” 

“...Technically, as far as my manager is concerned, I’m supposed to be working on a potential solo album while on this so-called writing retreat.”

“Do you want to release a solo album?” 

Klavier furrowed his brow, conflicted, and fiddled with his rings. His silence was deafening. 

“You’re like… fuck off rich. You don’t have to work if you don’t need to,” Apollo continued when he didn’t respond. “So if you’re not happy doing what you’re doing, then quit. Retire. Take a break. Whatever. Your fame isn’t going to disappear overnight, but it’ll die down over time. Eventually, people will give up and move on to the next gimmicky rock band with a hot blonde frontman. You don’t have to force yourself to make music if you’re not enjoying it anymore.” 

“I do enjoy writing music, is the thing. It’s everything else I’ve grown disillusioned towards.” 

“Then do it as a hobby. It doesn’t need to be your career, Klavier. If you want things to change, then change them. There’s nothing to gain from staying miserable.” 

“...Huh.” Klavier looked like his entire world had been shifted to the left. “You have given me… much to think about.”

Apollo lightly bumped his shoulder with his own. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. You have all the time in the world.” 

“I suppose I do.” Klavier hummed, and looked out over the ocean in quiet contemplation. 

Perhaps this was the moment that Apollo should have told him everything. 

I know what it’s like to lose a friend. I know what it’s like to pick up your entire life and run away from all your problems. I’ve been having the same doubts you’re having about whether to stay in Stardew Valley or go back to Zuzu City; the only difference is I like my old job and my old life, and don’t want to abandon a career I’ve worked hard for just because I’ve grown to love this one too. 

But he didn’t. 

There was no good reason for it either. Klavier would have understood. He wouldn’t have judged him. Yet, as hard as Apollo tried to form them, the words wouldn’t come out. 

Instead, he asked, “Are you going to be okay?” 

“I will be, in time.” Klavier smiled at him, finally something genuine. “I must say, I have never had someone see through me quite so clearly before – or be quite so aggressive in trying to get me to open up either, for that matter.” 

Apollo winced. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. The honesty is refreshing, and it’s nice to know that someone cares.” 

There was a sparkle in his eye, a look that Apollo didn’t want to put a name too – something deep and meaningful and scary. 

“I– It’s fine. I get it. I… I get it.” 

Klavier eyed him curiously, and for a second, Apollo thought he was going to ask him about everything anyway, but then something caught his attention and the moment passed. “Ah! The jellies have finally come to say hello.” 

Slowly, an array of glowing jellyfish emerged from the depths. Dots of blue and purples spread out across the water, gently pulsating as they began their swim up to the surface. In hindsight, Apollo wished he had sat closer to Ema so he could ask her why they did this once a year, but the regrets soon died away when he caught the look of wonder on Klavier’s face. 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asked. 

Apollo looked at the way the jellyfish’s glow illuminated his cheekbones, the reflection of the lanternlight in his irises, the easy smile that graced his features after so long.

“Yeah. Beautiful.” 

Apollo would tell him everything someday, he decided. Maybe not tonight, and maybe not tomorrow, but someday. 

There were worse things in the world than being known. 

Chapter Text

Apollo,

Thank you for the care package. The jam you sent was delightful. I shared it with Rayfa on a recent visit to Khura’in, and she has demanded I request you send her another as soon as possible. Enjoy those shipping fees. I looked them up out of curiosity, and it will not be inexpensive. 

I have also received the pictures you emailed, and I apologise for not responding sooner. We have been understaffed at the law office since you left, and it seemed more efficient to respond to both your email and your parcel at once. It was nice, however, to see how the farm has progressed since falling into your care. I am certain our father would say something sickeningly sentimental if he were to see it now. It is the sort of undertaking he would be touched over, even if your intentions had little to do with him. 

Work has been much the same here, and I have nothing to report on that front. Mr. Fender has been increasingly concerned at how long you have been away, however. I doubt he would fire you – he is much too soft-hearted for that – but I do advise you contact him with an estimated timeline as soon as possible. 

You do intend to return, don’t you? Do not think I haven’t noticed that you have avoided giving me an answer thus far. I must admit, you have taken to your new lifestyle with more joy and ease than I was expecting, but you also did not go to law school to waste your days on a farm. If this is how you would like to live your life from now on, then so be it, but it is a commitment you need to make sooner rather than later. You cannot straddle both lives forever. As I have told you time and time again, you need to let it go and move on. Which career path you need to let go of is for you to decide. 

My inbox is always open if you would like to discuss this further – or my phoneline, if you prefer. It has been so long since your voice has popped an eardrum that I almost miss it. 

Best wishes,

Nahyuta

FALL

As the summer days melted into fall, the temperature slowly cooled into something more habitable again. The trees outlining the farm began to turn orange, and it wouldn’t be long until Apollo would be adding raking to his list of daily chores – though he was looking forward to saving money on fertilizer with the mulch he could make from the fallen leaves. With the change in the weather, he traded out his shorts and t-shirts for warmer jeans and hoodies.

Unfortunately, he was still stuck in the cast when the seasons changed, and he was forced to rely on Klavier for help cycling out the crops. (Trucy would have helped too if Apollo had let her, but he put his foot down and insisted she go to class.) Between the two of them, they picked the rest of the melons, hot peppers, and blueberries, and replaced them with pumpkins, eggplants, and grapes. The corn and wheat he had planted last season would continue to flourish through fall, and he added a field of sunflowers as he had grown rather fond of them for no reason at all Trucy stop looking at him like that. 

Still, he was looking forward to regaining his independence when Dr. Hertz finally removed his cast in a few days, and that excitement brought with it an ambition to improve the farm even further. 

Apollo was weighing the costs and benefits of acquiring a few goats when Ema Skye dropped by with a request. 

“I need to use your cave,” she stated with little preamble. 

“Why?” Apollo asked. “And how do you know about the cave?” 

Ema shrugged. “I used to come here a lot. This place used to be a great place to study insects and wildflowers before you ruined it with all of this.” She gestured flippantly at his crops. 

“Before I ruined it with my livelihood?” 

“Yeah, well your livelihood has fucked up my research project since nobody is allowed in the mines anymore after you almost died or whatever, so I now I need to find a new place to continue my studies – and that cave you’re not using would be perfect.” 

“I’m sorry my near-death experience inconvenienced you,” Apollo said flatly. 

“And I’ll accept that apology if you let me use your cave.” 

“How do you know I’m not using it?” 

Ema raised a brow. “Are you?” 

Apollo wilted. “...No.” 

“I figured.” Ema rolled her eyes. “Besides, you owe me since it’s your fault I need to find a new place to conduct my research to begin with.” 

Apollo didn’t see how he was at all to blame for any of this – it wasn’t like he had asked to be attacked by slimes – but he led Ema to the cave anyway. 

It wasn’t a particularly large cave, and consisted only of a single room and an entrance that was just wide enough for a person to squeeze through. Apollo typically didn’t venture inside if it wasn’t necessary. Ever since a colony of bats moved in, he preferred to keep his distance so he didn’t disturb them, but Ema seemed to think of them as more of an additional perk than a hindrance and squeezed her way in without much concern. 

Apollo hung back and watched as she investigated the interior with testing kits he couldn’t even begin to guess the purpose of. She was waving strange thermometer-like devices in the air with an almost childlike glee, and it might legitimately be the happiest he had ever seen her. “The moisture and humidity levels are good… yeah, this will do nicely.”

“...What exactly do you need the cave for?” Apollo asked, leaning against the wall and keeping a watchful eye on the sleeping bats nestled together in their roost. He learned his lesson in the mines. He was not getting ambushed by creatures a second time. 

“I’ve been studying the local mushrooms that grow all over the Valley. There was a nice cluster of them in the mines, but since I can’t study those right now, I’m hoping to grow some from scratch. The conditions here are exactly right.” 

“Won’t the bats eat them?” 

“Nah, bats don’t eat fungi. They mostly eat insects or fruit, depending on the species. We can co-exist just fine.” Ema put away her testing equipment in her satchel and turned back to him. “Let me set up shop here. I won’t touch any of your shit out there as long as you promise not to touch any of my shit in here. In exchange, I’ll let you harvest and sell whatever mushrooms I’m done testing. We can get a nice symbiotic relationship going here, Justice. All I need from you is access to the space.” 

How could he argue with that? 

Ema came by the next morning with a truckload of equipment. She seemed to know what she was doing, so Apollo left her to it and focused on his usual morning chores with Klavier, only getting involved when she needed an extra pair of hands to move the heavier machinery. He didn’t properly check on her until after they had finished tending to the crops sometime after noon. 

“This is quite the setup, Fraulëin,” Klavier noted, taking in the large boxes she had set up in the centre of the cave. 

“Yes, and it’s all very delicate so don’t touch anything. I don’t need you getting glitter or whatever all over the place and ruining my experiments.” 

“Ach, you make me sound like a five-year-old girl after arts and crafts.” 

“I wish.” Ema snorted. “A five-year-old girl might have something intelligent to say.” 

Klavier rolled his eyes at Ema’s snark, and turned back to Apollo with a smile. “I should get going. I have a phone call with my manager to attend to, but I will see you bright and early tomorrow.” 

Apollo wondered if that call had anything to do with the conversation they had during the Festival of the Moonlight Jellies, if Klavier was taking his suggestion to quit his job seriously, but he didn’t dare ask in front of Ema. “Only two more days, and then I get my cast off.” 

“Ach, so soon. I don’t know how I will survive without seeing your lovely face every morning.” 

Ema made an exaggerated gagging noise. Apollo ignored her. “I think you’ll manage.” 

Klavier moved towards the exit, and looked back at Ema over his shoulder. “Have a nice day, Fraulëin! Remember, the mushrooms are for studying, not for smoking.” 

“Wrong mushrooms, dipshit.” 

Klavier flashed Apollo a smile. “Until the sun rises, Schatz.” 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” 

Klavier gave his shoulder a squeeze, his hand lingering for a second too long, and then he slipped out through the crevice to head home. 

Apollo hated to admit it, but he was going to miss having him around. He wouldn’t be alone on the farm, what with Trucy’s frequent visits and now Ema’s research too, but it wouldn’t be the same. Maybe another night out at the inn was in order. It had been a while since he had watched Klavier perform. 

“So what’s going on between you and the fop?” 

Apollo whipped around to face her, eyes wide. “Huh?” 

Ema didn’t even look up from her clipboard. “You and the fop have been getting cozy lately. What’s going on there?” 

Her question came entirely out of left field. Apollo was no stranger to being teased about this particular topic, thanks to Trucy, but the fact that Ema had suspicions was a surprise. Apollo didn’t think there was anything out of the ordinary with his friendship with Klavier, but if someone who rarely spent time around the both of them had noticed something…. 

No, he was being ridiculous. Ema was probably misinformed because she wasn’t familiar with their relationship. Or maybe….

“What has Trucy told you?!” 

“Trucy? She hasn’t told me anything.” Ema narrowed her eyes at him. “Why? What does Trucy know?” 

“Nothing,” Apollo replied too quickly, and internally cursed himself for putting his foot in his mouth. As if he wasn’t embarrassed enough already. 

Ema clearly didn’t buy the lie either, if the way she was eyeing him was anything to go by, but she didn’t press. “Whatever. I don’t actually care.” She turned back to her work. “It’s just the fop doesn’t shut up about you anymore, and I’m trying to gauge how much longer I’m going to have to put up with his annoying pining.” 

“PINING?” Apollo squawked. Ema winced at his volume. “Klavier is not pining.”

“How would you know? Pining, by definition, is something that happens when the object of affection isn’t around. He becomes a whole other type of insufferable when he’s with you.” 

Apollo felt his brain short circuit. Making sense of Ema’s words was like trying to fit two mismatched puzzle pieces together. It didn’t connect. “He’s not– we’re not– it’s not like that! We’re just friends! We’re not–... There’s nothing going on between me and Klavier!” 

“Jeez, all right, there’s no need to get your panties in a twist. Forget I said anything.” 

But Apollo couldn’t forget. 

For the rest of the day, he combed through every interaction he ever had with Klavier, trying to understand why no less than two of their friends had suspected them of being something more. Sure, Klavier could be flirty and touchy-feely at times, but he was like that with everyone. 

Wasn’t he? 

And Apollo had noticed a slight uptick in the flirting since they had that talk at the Festival of the Moonlight Jellies, but that sort of thing happened when two people became friends, right? It didn’t mean anything? 

However….

Klavier had wanted to partner with him at the Flower Dance… and he had taken to calling him German terms of endearment lately…. (A fact Apollo only knew because he made the mistake of asking Mr. Edgeworth, who Trucy told him had lived in Germany for a time, what Schatz meant. He was never going to recover from the humiliation of that conversation, and his only saving grace was that Mr. Edgeworth was just as keen to pretend it never happened.) 

No. Ema and Trucy were getting to him, that’s all. Klavier didn’t have feelings for him. It was wishful thinking on Trucy’s part, and Ema must have misinterpreted whatever Klavier might have said to her. It was all one big misunderstanding. There was no way Klavier was into somebody like him. There was just no way. 

But then why was he disappointed? 

Every fall, Stardew Valley hosted a fair in which all of the local farmers put together a display of their best products to showcase everything they had been working on for the past year. The mayor of Pelican Town would then judge each grange on the quality and variety of products on display, and award the winner a small sum of money they could then invest into making improvements to their farm. 

The grant would be nice, Apollo supposed, but the main reason he chose to participate was to prove to himself that the move was worth it. 

Ever since he left the city, there had been a voice in the back of his head (one that sounded suspiciously like Nahyuta’s) that questioned his decision to leave. After all, he had trained to be a lawyer, not a farmer. In all the daydreams he had about his future, he never once considered taking over Dhurke’s old farm. This was a spur of the moment decision fuelled by grief and heartbreak, and Apollo knew that if Clay hadn’t died, if the city hadn’t become so suffocating and claustrophobic, he never would have come here. 

If he won the competition, then he could prove to everyone – and more importantly, himself – that he hadn’t made a mistake. This move, however temporary it proved to be, was worth it. 

That vindication was worth more to him than gold. 

In the weeks leading up to the fair, Apollo worked hard to collect his finest crops for his display. The centerpiece of his grange consisted of the freshest and most delectable fruits and vegetables from the season – bushels of golden wheat, bunches of juicy grapes, and the largest pumpkin he had grown so far – along with jars of jam and bottles of juice he had made from previous harvests. He lined the edges of the display with sunflowers and mushrooms, and neatly tucked a small carton of eggs into the front. While they didn’t constitute his typical output, he also added the amethyst and topaz he had collected during his one ill-fated trip to the mines for the sake of emphasising variety, along with some oysters from his crab pots. Aesthetics weren’t Apollo’s strong point, but all in all, he was proud of what he had managed to put together. 

“That looks really good, Apollo!” Juniper complimented him with a smile. 

“Thanks, Juniper. So does yours.” 

Juniper had set up her own display to the left of Apollo’s consisting of various fruits, vegetables, and flowers she had grown in her garden. Apollo hoped Mr. Edgeworth valued the diversity of his grange because Juniper’s crops were larger and fresher than his, and she had him beat on quality alone. 

“Junie won last year, you know.” Athena grinned proudly and draped an arm across Juniper’s shoulders. “And she’s going to kick your ass this year too!” 

“‘Thena!” Juniper went pink from the praise. 

“We’ll see.” Apollo crossed his arms. “I heard Mr. Edgeworth judges us on the variety of items on display, and mine is the most diverse.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of quality over quantity?” Athena fired back. 

“Haven’t you ever heard of not putting all your eggs in one basket?” 

Mr. Wright chuckled from behind Apollo, Trucy at his side. “Easy, you two. It’s just a friendly competition.” 

Mr. Wright was allocated the grange on Apollo’s right. He hadn’t put much effort into the presentation, but his display stood out regardless on account of being the only one whose yield largely centered around animal products – bottles of milk, cartons of eggs, and the biggest wheel of cheese Apollo had ever seen. It was making him wish he had invested in a cow after all. 

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s pointless when Mr. Edgeworth is probably going to play favourites since you’re his childhood friend or whatever.” Athena huffed. 

“You clearly don’t know Edgeworth very well if you think that’s even remotely true.” 

“Mr. Edgeworth says that he always judges Daddy the harshest because he knows he’s capable of better!” Trucy explained.

“...Thanks, Truce.”  

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for you to win, AJ!” Datz, the last of the competitors, flashed him a toothy grin and a big thumbs up. 

His display was last in the row on the other side of Mr. Wright’s. As rude as it was to say, Datz was the only one Apollo wasn’t worried about beating. Apollo was experienced enough with fishing to know that the spread in Datz’s grange was impressive, but it smelled terrible. 

“Your old man won a fair or two in his day,” Datz continued. “It just feels like a nice full circle moment for you to win now.” 

“I’m trying,” was all Apollo could say to that. Such sentimentality in front of other people made him uncomfortable. 

Their conversation soon died down when Mr. Edgeworth came by to judge each of their displays, clipboard in hand. He ran through the rules and judging criteria – even if it was a little late in Apollo’s opinion as they didn’t have time to alter their displays now – and then began to evaluate each of their granges in turn, starting with Juniper’s on the end. 

“Good afternoon, Ms. Woods. It’s good to see you enter again after your victory last fall,” Mr. Edgeworth greeted her. 

“Junie worked really hard on her display this year!” Athena piped up. “She’s been planning for this since the spring!” 

“I can see that.” Mr. Edgeworth poked and prodded at the various flowers and crops Juniper was presenting. “The leaves and petals on your roses are flawless – not a blemish in sight – and your vegetables are almost perfect. The colouring on your eggplants are slightly dull, indicating overripeness, and your artichokes are rather small and could have used more time to ripen, but all in all, this is the excellent showing I've come to expect from you. Great work.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth,” Juniper said politely, but when Mr. Edgeworth turned his back to them, she and Athena clasped hands and jumped around excitedly. 

When Mr. Edgeworth turned to him next, Apollo stood at attention. 

“Mr. Justice, I must admit, I’ve been looking forward to seeing what you’ve put together, given this is your first year in Stardew Valley. I hope you’ve settled in by now.” 

“Yeah, everybody has been really welcoming.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he turned to the grange, “now, let’s see what you have here.” 

Apollo watched with bated breath as Mr. Edgeworth rifled through all of his products, inspecting each item rigorously. It was nerve-wracking, and Mr. Edgeworth’s impassive expression did little to alleviate those nerves. He had to remind himself that even if Mr. Edgeworth didn’t like his display, it didn’t change the fact he had accomplished a lot in the past two-and-a-half seasons – more than he thought he would when he first moved here. 

I’m Apollo Justice, and I’m fine.

His anxiety must have shown on his face for Trucy looped her arm through his in support. 

“Your pumpkin is a good size,” Mr. Edgeworth noted, “and you have an impressive variety for a newcomer. Did you grow these mushrooms yourself?” 

“Yes, sir. They’re from a project Ema and I are working on.” 

Mr. Edgeworth hummed, and screwed the lid off one of his jam jars. “Your jam is the right consistency – smooth, but not too runny,” he popped the lid back on, and picked up the juice bottle, “and your juice is a nice colour. Grape, I assume?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve heard it’s popular around here.” 

“Only among specific residents.” 

Mr. Wright shrugged. “Guilty.” 

Mr. Edgeworth did another pass on his display, and then, once he was satisfied, he turned to Apollo with a small smile. “This is a valiant effort for your first fair. Some of your crops are a little on the small side, which is to be expected from a beginner, but overall, you have exceeded my expectations. You should be proud.” 

Apollo was stunned at the high praise. “Oh! Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth!” 

When Mr. Edgeworth looked away, Trucy shook his shoulder. “Polly! He smiled at you! He must really really like it!” 

Apollo preened. He couldn’t help but shoot Athena a smug look, and she stuck out her tongue in response. 

When Mr. Edgeworth turned to Mr. Wright, his demeanor changed. His professional politeness became more forced and practiced. He tilted his chin upwards, straightened his back, and hardened his expression. He reminded Apollo of Klavier, and the way he would put on an act sometimes when he became hyperaware of the perception of others. It was like Mr. Edgeworth was putting in extra effort to treat Mr. Wright the same as everyone else when he viewed him as anything but. 

“Wright.” He nodded once. 

A lopsided grin tugged at Mr. Wright’s lips. “Edgeworth.” 

He cast a glance over Mr. Wright’s grange, and screwed up his face in distaste. “You couldn’t have put some effort into the organisation of your display?” 

“What can I say? Aesthetics are not my strong suit.” 

“You were an art major.” 

Mr. Wright only shrugged. 

Mr. Edgeworth glowered and began rooting around the produce. “Your chicken eggs are mixed in with your duck eggs, your cheese wheel is more of a cheese polygon, and,” he screwed the cap off of one of the milk bottles, sniffed it, and winced, “as I suspected, your milk is off. Honestly, Wright, did you even try?” 

“Me? Nah. Not my grange.”

Mr. Edgeworth cut him a look, and returned the bottle to its place. “What do you mean it’s ‘not your grange’?” 

“See, Trucy and I have a system, right? She usually handles the presentation –”

“Daddy’s design sense is what a generous person might call ‘avant-garde’!” Trucy added. 

“– and I collect and put together our product. This year, however, we thought we would try something a little different. This year, I handled the presentation….”

“...and I made all of our produce! I milked the cow myself and everything!” 

A look of horror dawned on Mr. Edgeworth’s face as he slowly realised exactly who he was criticising so harshly. “Ah… this is your handiwork, Trucy…?” Apollo had never heard him sound so small. 

Trucy looked up at him with her biggest, wettest, puppy dog eyes. “Is it really that bad, Mr. Edgeworth?” 

Apollo had also never seen him turn so red. “I–... of course not, Trucy. This is a solid attempt.” He turned back to the display and scrambled for something nice to say. “Your eggs are fresh, and the cheese has been aged to perfection. You did a wonderful job.” 

Trucy beamed. “Thank you, Mr. Edgeworth!” 

“Yeah, thank you, Mr. Edgeworth,” Mr. Wright parroted with a shit-eating grin. 

Mr. Edgeworth glared. “We’re going to talk about this later,” he hissed, and briskly moved on before he embarrassed himself further. 

Apollo leaned in towards Trucy. “Did you really make all that stuff?” 

“Nope! But what Mr. Edgeworth doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.” She winked. 

Devious little farmhand. Apollo made the mental note to never let his guard down around the Wrights. 

Thoroughly chastened, Mr. Edgeworth approached the final grange in the row. “Mr. Are’bal, your display is as… fragrant, as always.” 

“Haha, yeah! I thought about spraying it down with some Febreeze or something to mask the fishy smell, but it didn’t seem fair when no one else was using air fresheners! Wouldn’t want to cheat, y’know?” 

“Yes, that would have been a shame,” Mr. Edgeworth drawled. 

When Mr. Edgeworth finished the judging, he turned to the group as a whole and congratulated them on all of their hard work, reminded them to clear out their displays before the end of the night, and informed them he would announce the results at the beginning of the closing ceremony that evening. He then headed off to oversee another part of the fair, but not without shooting Mr. Wright one last glare before he went. 

Apollo’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t realise he was going to have to wait so long to find out the verdict. The anticipation was going to kill him. 

He was talking to Athena, Juniper, and Trucy about Mr. Edgeworth’s feedback when he heard a voice behind him. 

“Herr Forehead! Have I missed the judging?” Klavier approached them. He was wearing jeans, heavy boots, and a light knit sweater that hugged his frame in all the right places. Apollo was surprised he allowed himself to leave the house without showing off at least one clavicle. 

“Yeah, Mr. Edgeworth left a few minutes ago. You just missed it” 

“Ach, Scheiße. I was hoping to wish you luck before your big competition, but I was waylaid by Herr Samurai on the way.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Did it go well at least?” 

“I think so. Mr. Edgeworth seemed to like it at any rate, but apparently my crops are on the small side.” He eyed the larger pumpkin in Juniper’s grange that inarguably trumped his in size. He would have to get tips from her later. 

“Polly’s being modest!” Trucy exclaimed. “Mr. Edgeworth said he was very impressed! I think he’s going to win!” 

“Beginner’s luck,” Athena grumbled and crossed her arms. Juniper – the person Apollo was actually competing against – patted her arm sympathetically. 

“In any case,” Apollo continued, “we’re not going to find out the results until the closing ceremony, so I won’t know how I did until then.” 

Although, as far as Apollo knew, Mr. Edgeworth only picked a winner, and there were no runners up. The fact he couldn’t settle for second – either he won or he didn’t – only drummed up his anxiety more. 

“That is quite the wait, but… if you have some time to kill… perhaps you would like to join me in exploring the fair?” Klavier smiled. “There are a few activities I would love to try, and it would be a nice opportunity to break in your new wrist, ja?” He ran his fingers down Apollo’s now cast-free arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

“Please don’t say the words ‘break’ and ‘your wrist’ in the same sentence.” Apollo tugged his arm away, and ducked his head, hoping the others didn’t notice the blush. 

“Oooooh I haven’t played any of the games yet!” Trucy cut in, much to Klavier’s apparent surprise. 

Athena quickly perked back up. “Yeah, that sounds like fun! Count me and Junie in too!” 

Klavier’s expression flickered for a second before settling back into his trademark smile. Apollo suspected the invitation had not extended to the girls (and he didn’t want to think about what it meant that Klavier had only been asking him), but he didn’t have the heart to turn them down. “Of course! The more the merrier.” 

“I don’t think we should leave our displays unattended though,” Juniper pointed out worriedly. 

“If you let me have this,” Mr. Wright, who had seemingly been listening in on their conversation, plucked the bottle of grape juice from Apollo’s grange, “then I’ll keep an eye on them for you. You kids go have fun.” 

Apollo narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re not going to steal anything else from my display, are you?” 

“We’ll see how hungry I get.” 

Apollo took that as a yes. He mentally catalogued all his items, and made a note to check if they were still there when he got back. 

“Yippee! Thank you, Daddy!” 

Trucy grabbed Apollo by the wrist, and yanked him in the direction of the tents before he had the opportunity to object any further. Klavier chuckled to himself and followed them at a more leisurely pace, Athena and Juniper at his heels. 

“I don’t mean to brag, but I have been described as possessing the arms of a lumberjack before,” Klavier claimed as he sauntered up to the strength test game, wooden mallet propped against his shoulder. 

“Like… sarcastically?” Athena asked, unconvinced. 

“Klavier, I’ve seen you chop wood before,” Apollo reminded him. “I literally had to pull the axe out of the tree for you, and I had a broken wrist at the time.” 

“Ach, you are all so mean to me. I will have to prove myself to you the old fashioned way.” 

Klavier stepped up to the machine. He adjusted his grip on the mallet, and then swung down onto the pressure plate as hard as he could. The weight shot up the pole, but slowed down at the three-quarter mark and didn’t quite reach the bell. 

Apollo bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. “Wow. Those biceps really are just vanity muscles, huh?” 

“I assure you, Herr Forehead, it is much harder than it seems!” 

Apollo took the mallet from him. “We’ll see about that.” 

Apollo took Klavier’s place at the foot of the machine, and rolled his shoulders to loosen them up. In Klavier’s defense, he was by no means weak or scrawny, but Apollo had built up a lot of strength over the past few seasons and he was confident he could achieve a better result. He firmly gripped the handle, and, with one last glance at Klavier to make sure he was watching, he brought it down onto the pressure plate with all the brute strength he could muster. To his relief, the weight shot up the track and rang the bell loudly and clearly. 

The girls cheered in celebration, but all Apollo could notice was the way Klavier’s eyes lit up in delight. “Ach, that wasn’t fair! You are an actual lumberjack!” He gave Apollo’s bicep a squeeze, his hand lingering longer than what was necessary. “How was I to compete with arms like these?” 

“Don’t present a challenge you can’t win, Gavin.” 

The woman manning the machine handed Apollo a stuffed rabbit for ringing the bell, which he promptly handed to Trucy. 

“Aww thanks, Polly! But don’t you want to give it to–”

“No. Shut up.” 

Athena took the mallet next. “Nice try, fellas, but let me show you how it’s done!” 

She got into position, and, only pausing long enough to aim, swung the mallet down so hard and sent the weight flying up so fast that, for a moment, Apollo thought she was going to knock the bell off the stand entirely. The resounding clang was so loud that a passing group of bystanders flinched at the sound. 

Apollo was suddenly reminded of when Athena shoulder checked him during the egg hunt. In hindsight, he was lucky she didn’t kill him. 

Athena’s grin was proud and smug. She gleefully accepted her prize, and passed it on to Juniper with a bow. “Pour toi, mon petit chou.” 

“Thank you, ‘Thena.” Juniper hugged the stuffed sheep to her chest. “I’ll put it on my bed with the others.”

Their number halved after the slingshot game when Juniper made the mistake of commenting on how cute she thought the giant jumino plush was, and Athena refused to leave until she had won it for her. This was for the best as it meant that neither of them had to see how badly Apollo was losing at the roulette wheel. 

“Your bad luck is truly something to behold,” Klavier commented, barely managing to hide his amusement. “Losing a coin flip so many times in a row is a statistical marvel.” 

Apollo scowled in frustration. “Well, it’s not going to land on green a fifth time in a row, right?” 

“Haven’t you heard of the Gambler’s Fallacy, Polly?” asked Trucy. “It doesn’t matter how many times the wheel landed on green before, it’s still a fifty-fifty shot that it will land on green again!” 

“Why do you know about the Gambler’s Fallacy?” 

Trucy beamed. “Daddy used to take me with him when he played poker in the Kitaki’s basement! I was his good luck charm!” 

“...You know what? Nevermind. I don’t want to know.” Apollo turned back to his new archnemesis, the wheel. “The second I stop picking orange is the second it lands on orange, so I’m just going to stick to my guns.” 

Apollo grabbed the pegs of the wheel, and spun it as fast as he could. 

The green and orange slices melded into a blurred brown as the wheel turned and turned. Apollo didn’t know why he had even bothered to spin it again when the best he could hope for at this point was to break even on the number of star tokens he had bet, but it was hard to step away when he felt like his pride was on the line. 

When the wheel began to slow, Apollo watched with bated breath as his desired orange slice neared the top. 

Tick tick tick, tick tick, tick… tick… tick…… tick….

Had he finally won this godforsaken game?! 

…tick. 

His hopes were immediately dashed. 

“Green! Better luck next time!”

Apollo could only gape. Behind him, he was vaguely aware of Trucy and Klavier turning their heads to hide their laughter. 

“Is this thing WEIGHTED?!”

Apollo needed a break from games after that, so their trio paid a visit to an attraction hosted by Pearl Fey. In the annual desert festival, she would run an activity where she would dress up clients in a costume she felt ‘best represented their inner self’ (whatever that meant), but this year, she decided to host it during the Stardew Valley Fair as well. It wasn’t the kind of thing Apollo was interested in, but Pearl had begged Klavier to let her dress him up and the diva couldn’t resist a fashion show. 

“Isn’t this a little on the nose?” Apollo asked as he tugged at the Ancient Greek chiton Pearl had encouraged him to wear. Even setting aside the tired mythology reference, it was a little too breezy for his liking, and he was struggling to get the laurel wreath to sit right on his head. 

“You’re just jealous I have the better hat.” Trucy spun the propeller on her multicoloured cap. 

‘Jealous’ was not the right word. If Pearl had dressed him up like a clown while claiming the costume perfectly encapsulated who he was as a person, he would have fled back to Zuzu City and never talked to any of these people again. 

It suited Trucy though. It was fun and lighthearted, just like her. 

“Do you think I’d make a good clown, Polly?” 

“I think you’re already a clown, Trucy.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him. 

Pearl giddily ran out of the tent she was using as a dressing room. “Trucy! Mr. Apollo! Are you ready to see Mr. Klavier?” 

Apollo was about to make a snarky comment about how he didn’t see why he needed to prepare himself when Klavier threw open the tent flap and the words died on his tongue. 

There wasn’t enough time in the universe that could have prepared him for Klavier Gavin in a violet 1920s flapper dress. Apollo didn’t think women were even allowed to wear skirts that short in the 20s. They hadn’t touched his hair – not surprising considering how particular Klavier was about it – so it was still in its braid, but he had agreed to wear the headband anyway. A thick feather boa adorned his shoulders, and his beaded necklaces clacked as he moved. 

Apollo didn’t realise how blatantly he was ogling him until Trucy poked his chin and shut his hanging jaw. The worst part was that Klavier definitely noticed. 

“Like what you see, Liebling?” He twirled his beaded necklace and swung his hips to a silent beat, the tassels on his dress waving back and forth. His face was far too smug. 

Apollo, embarrassingly, stammered. Trucy openly laughed at him. 

“I– I mean– uhhh… Pearl chose that for you…?” 

“I may have led her in a certain direction.” 

“Do you like it, Mr. Apollo?” Pearl asked. She, at least, seemed innocently oblivious to Apollo’s torment. “In the 1920s, modern women dressed up like this to challenge the societal and gender norms of the time. It suits Mr. Klavier a lot, don’t you think?” 

Apollo swallowed. “Uh… sure.” 

God, he was never going to live this down. Maybe he should move back to Zuzu City and never speak to any of these people again. 

“I like your headpiece, Schatz.” Klavier toyed with one of the leaves right above Apollo’s ear, which did not help his blush in the slightest. “It perfectly frames your lovely forehead.” 

And just like that, he plummeted right back down to earth. 

“I hope that feather boa chokes you.” 

Klavier only laughed. 

Apollo managed to regain some of his dignity when he aced the fishing game and was able to add another stuffed rabbit to Trucy’s growing collection. At that point, stomachs began to rumble and so they retreated to the Kitaki’s barbeque for freshly grilled survival burgers and milkshakes. 

Apollo didn’t know how much he needed a day out with a fun group of people until he got one. Sitting around a picnic table, joking and laughing with Klavier and Trucy, was a balm on his tired soul. It was the lightest and most relaxed he had felt in a long time. 

When was the last time he hung out with friends like this? He had gone to the other festivals, sure, but those were more lowkey and he spent most of them wallflowering with Klavier anyway (to say nothing of the disasters that were the Egg Festival and Flower Dance). He couldn’t remember the last time he hung out with a group of friends, and he feared it was back when Clay was still alive. 

The trauma of losing him so young and so suddenly stuck to him like a stain, and he couldn’t wash away the fear that something bad would happen to his new friends too and his heart would get broken again. However, even with that worry constantly itching the back of his mind, Apollo was beginning to realise what a mistake it was to isolate himself for so long. It was foolish of him to think he could ever be happy alone. Even someone as introverted as he was needed companionship, and he found two of the best companions he could ask for. Trucy was like the little sister he never had, and Klavier… well, there were a lot of feelings there that Apollo wasn’t quite ready to name. 

Apollo still missed Clay terribly. Not a day went by when he didn’t think of him. A part of him would always wish that his best friend was still with him, but he was doing better now, and he hoped Clay was proud of him, wherever he was. 

After they had finished eating, Klavier checked his watch and swore under his breath. “Ach, I didn’t realise it was that late. I need to go and get ready for the show.” 

That caught Apollo’s attention. “You’re performing?” 

“Ja, Herr Edgeworth asked if I would be willing to play a few songs at the closing ceremony. It seemed like a nice opportunity to give back to a community I have grown to love so much.” 

Apollo zeroed in on the way he played with his hair. Klavier was nervous, then. 

Honestly, Apollo was surprised he had agreed to this gig at all given the conversation they had about how much he wanted to stay hidden from his fans and the press. He was already pushing it with the weekly performances at the Kitaki’s, but he had gotten away with those since the only people in attendance were locals. This audience would be far larger, and there was no guarantee they would be willing to keep Klavier Gavin a secret. 

“Is that a good idea?” Apollo had to ask. “There’s way more people here than usual….” 

“There is no need to worry your pretty little head. I have performed for audiences far larger than this one before. This is not my first rodeo.” Klavier smiled, but his glances towards Trucy told a different story. Not in front of the Fraulëin, bitte. 

Apollo let it go, despite his better judgement. He had to trust Klavier knew what he was doing. 

“That’s so exciting!” Trucy chirped, eyes sparkling. “I’ve always wanted to go to a Klavier Gavin concert!” 

He chose not to point out that, to his knowledge, Klavier had never done a solo concert before. 

“You’re too kind, Fraulëin.” Klavier wiped his fingers with a napkin, and stood up. “Anyway, I best be off. I expect to see you both front and center, ja?” 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” 

With that, Klavier headed for his beach house to get ready, and Apollo and Trucy were alone. 

Apollo began cleaning up their table and collecting all their trash. “We should probably head back to Mr. Wright and the granges.” Or what was left of them, anyway. He hoped Mr. Wright hadn’t eaten too many of his fruits and vegetables while he was gone. He was already writing off the grapes as a loss. 

“But Polly! We haven’t seen the fortune teller yet!” 

“The what?” 

“The fortune teller! She can see the future, you know.” 

Apollo didn’t believe that for a second. “You can go if you want, but I’m going back to Mr. Wright.” He got up from their table, and disposed of their trash in the nearest receptacle. 

Trucy followed him. “But don’t you want to know your future? She can tell you about the farm, or Mikeko, or even if there’s a special someone waiting for you to make a move.” She waggled her eyebrows. 

Ah, is that what she was doing, was she? He should have known. “I’m good, thanks.” 

Apollo moved to leave the dining area, but Trucy was quick to intercept him. “Pleeeeeease, Polly? It will only take, like, fifteen minutes tops. It would mean a lot to me if you gave it a shot.” 

Trucy brought out her best puppy dog eyes, and Apollo sighed. Maybe one day he would build up an immunity to that look, but today was not that day. 

“As long as it’s quick.” 

The next thing Apollo knew, he and Trucy were sitting on cushions on the floor of a dark tent. The interior was lit entirely by dim fairy lights, and patterned curtains and blankets helped block out any sunlight that might have filtered through the tent walls. The only objects in the room were a round table with a velvet table cloth and an actual real life crystal ball. 

Behind it sat a woman in a midnight blue shawl embroidered with gold constellations. A translucent veil covered the lower half of her face, and she watched them situate themselves with kind yet piercing eyes. Apollo couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about her that captivated him. 

“Ms. Lamiroir?” Trucy said softly, reverently. “We’ve come to hear our fortunes.” 

“Certainly.” Her voice was warm and smooth like honey, and she spoke with an accent he couldn’t quite place. “You are in luck. The spirits are in good humour today. What would you like to know?” 

Apollo glanced at Trucy. He was only here to humour her, and had no idea how to answer that question. Fortunately, she had no issues going first. “Can you tell me if I’m going to make it as a magician one day?” 

“A magician? How wonderful.” Lamiroir smiled. “I have always adored stage magic. It is an underappreciated art form.” 

Trucy’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! I think so too! Becoming a magician is my dream!” 

“And what a lovely dream it is.” She laid her hands on her crystal ball. “Now, let us see what the spirits have to say, shall we?” 

At Lamiroir’s touch, the ball filled with a lilac swirling smoke. Apollo had to assume there was some sort of mechanism behind it, but Trucy was mesmerised and he didn’t think a skilled magician like her would fall for a simple parlor trick. Lamiroir hummed softly, and her eyes grew unfocused and distanced. If there was anything in the smoke, Apollo couldn’t see it, but her line of sight never drifted from the ball like there was something that drew her helplessly towards it. 

“Ah… the spirits seem hopeful for your career plans. Do you do card tricks, my dear?” 

“Yes!” Trucy leaned forward and gripped the edge of the table, enthralled. “I incorporate cards into all of my acts! And my Daddy taught me how to play too!” 

“Yes, the spirits are quite fond of these card tricks. I see an ace of spades, a queen of diamonds, a jack of diamonds – not cards that would traditionally make a winning hand, but one the spirits feel will be important to you all the same. I see a packed theatre, and a dressing room filled with flowers, and I see a rabbit-eared assistant – or maybe two.” 

Trucy gasped. “Polly, maybe that’s you!” She flicked one of his hair spikes, and Apollo felt it droop from the disturbance. 

“Doubt it,” he mumbled, and slicked it back up. 

Lamiroir stared into the crystal ball for another moment, and then looked up at Trucy with a smile, the light returning to her eyes. The smoke faded out of the ball. “I see a lot of success for you in your future, if you choose to continue down this path. Of course, that is only one possibility. The future is yours to mold, should you choose to pursue other passions.” 

Apollo still wasn’t convinced that any communing was happening here, but he was glad that, even if it was a hoax, Lamiroir was imparting valuable support and wisdom towards Trucy. He wasn’t above giving her a piece of his mind if she had said anything that upset her or otherwise dissuaded her from practicing magic. 

“Nope, I’m pretty set on this one – especially now that the spirits approve. Thank you, Ms. Lamiroir.” 

“It is my pleasure. Perhaps one day I could be so lucky as to watch one of your shows.” 

“Definitely! I'll send you front row tickets!” 

“It would be an honour.” Lamiroir bowed her head, and turned to Apollo next. “And what about you, my dear? Is there anything you wish to ask the spirits?” 

“Uh… I’m just here for Trucy, so….” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Ask her about you know who,” Trucy whispered, elbowing him in the ribs. 

“No. I’m not doing that.” 

“If there is nothing specific you wish to ask, I can ask the spirits if they have any general advice,” Lamiroir suggested, her voice gentle, “but it is, of course, up to you.” 

Apollo hesitated. He wasn’t sure he believed in any of this stuff, and he didn’t particularly want to talk about his anxieties with a stranger either, but… what if she could help him? Fortune telling was like horoscopes, in a way. Logically he knew his life wasn’t actually dictated by the position of the planets, but sometimes their platitudes helped guide him towards more meaningful solutions. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

“Um… I guess… I want to know if… if I should stay here on the farm, or if I’d be better off going back to my old job as a lawyer.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Trucy’s face fall. 

Shit. He didn’t think about how she would react. 

Lamiroir hummed. “I cannot tell you what you should do, but perhaps the spirits will have some advice on what to consider.” 

The crystal ball filled with smoke again, and Lamiroir’s gaze grew unfocused. Apollo stared at the ball with her – partly in an attempt to see these spirits himself, partly to avoid the way Trucy’s eyes were boring into the side of his head – but again, whatever Lamiroir was seeing was not visible to him. 

Lamiroir’s brow furrowed. “Hmm… the spirits sense a lot of conflict within you. I see a crossroads, but the destinations on both paths are clouded by doubt and uncertainty. It seems you are having trouble choosing between what your heart wants and what your mind thinks you  should want, yes?” 

“I mean… I guess….” Apollo shifted, uncomfortable. Truthfully, he didn’t know where his heart was these days, but his mind certainly had trouble letting go of the law firm. 

Lamiroir didn’t speak for a long moment. “...As I suspected, the spirits do not wish to make that choice for you. They want to encourage you to follow your heart, wherever your heart may lie, but warn you that the time to make this decision will come sooner than you hope.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“I cannot say.” She looked up at him, and the smoke fizzled out of the ball. “That is all the spirits wish to impart at this time. I am afraid they can be rather vague, but I hope their thoughts have provided some guidance on where to start.” 

Apollo wasn’t sure that they did – how was he supposed to follow his heart when he didn’t know what his heart even wanted? – but he didn’t want to be rude to someone who had been nothing but kind. “I’ll think about it. Thank you.” 

Lamiroir smiled at them warmly. “You are both kind, passionate people. I believe, whatever you choose, will lead to true happiness in the end.”

“Thank you, Ms. Lamiroir,” Trucy said, though her voice sounded slightly off. 

Lamiroir nodded at them both in turn. “Until we meet again.” 

Trucy was unusually quiet when they left the tent. Her gaze was downcast, and she hugged her stuffed rabbits tight to her chest. 

“Are you really thinking about leaving?” 

The sad look in her eyes combined with the waver in her voice stabbed him straight through the heart. 

“I mean… I– I don’t know. I never intended for my move here to be permanent.” 

“Oh.” 

Apollo didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t reassure her he wasn’t going to leave when he couldn’t promise that, and he was still so caught off guard from how badly she was taking this in the first place. 

It never once occurred to him that there were people here who would miss him if he was gone. He wasn’t used to being the one leaving someone behind. 

“I… Look. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I don’t plan on going anywhere right now. I’m probably going to stay here until at least the end of the year – maybe even next spring too – but if that changes, I promise you’ll be the first to know. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

“And if I do leave – and I’m not saying I’m going to – then there’s no reason we can’t stay in contact. I write to my brother all the time. There’s nothing stopping me from writing to you too.” He smiled. “And you’re going to be a big shot magician someday, right? There’s no way I’m going to miss that. I’ll be going to every show I can.” 

Trucy nodded solemnly. “You have to. The spirits said you are going to be my assistant.” 

Apollo still didn’t agree with that, but he had already upset her enough. “Right. See? Even if I move away, you’re not going to be rid of me that easily. I’m not going to disappear on you, Trucy.” 

“Promise?” 

He forgot, sometimes, just how young she was. 

“Promise.”

Trucy threw her arms around him and pulled him into a hug, stuffed animals squished between them. Apollo held her as tight as he could. 

When Mr. Edgeworth awarded him first place at the Stardew Valley Fair, he shook Apollo’s hand on stage and said, “Congratulations, Mr. Justice. I look forward to seeing how your farm progresses over the next year.” 

When Apollo retreated to his place in the audience of the closing ceremony, rosette and prize money in hand, Trucy shook his shoulder excitedly and said, “See, Polly? You’re really good at this farming thing! Just think how much better you’ll get if you stayed!” 

And when Klavier took to the stage, dressed to the nines in leather and heavy makeup and hair coiled into his signature twist, he smiled directly at Apollo and said, “A little bunny told me once that he liked my acoustic songs best, so this one is for him. Enjoy, Schatz. One day I’ll tell you how much your friendship has meant to me.” 

Follow your heart, huh? 

Apollo wasn’t sure about that, but there were people here worth staying for, and for now, that was good enough. 

Apollo had forgotten his concerns about Klavier’s performance until, a few days after the conclusion of the fair, he stepped onto the beach only to find a horde of people crowding around outside his home. 

It wasn’t difficult to figure out who they were and what they were here for. The crowd was a mix of young women around Athena and Juniper’s age decked out in Gavinners merchandise, and people his age and older with expensive-looking cameras and voice recorders. The name KlavGav rode through them like a wave. 

Apollo’s blood boiled. 

He had a bad feeling this was going to happen. He didn’t blame Klavier at all – he should have been able to perform one small local show without attracting paparazzi and parasocial fans with no concept of boundaries – but it didn’t piss him off any less. 

Klavier had moved here because he wanted privacy. He had moved here because he wanted to escape the horrors of celebrity life, and now, because of one risky decision, those horrors were camping on his doorstep. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Apollo wasn’t going to stand there and let him be treated like this. 

Before he did anything rash – he had learned his lesson from last time – he pulled out his phone and texted Klavier. 

[From Apollo: you home?] 

He didn’t have to wait long for a response. His phone buzzed within seconds. 

[From Klavier: ja but i do not recommend visiting atm 😬]

Fuck, that’s what he was afraid of. Could Klavier even leave in these conditions? Apollo had to get him out of there. 

[From Apollo: I can see that]

[From Apollo: I’m coming in be ready]

His phone buzzed again, but he slipped it back into his pocket without checking. 

Apollo turned to the crowd and put his bottomless lungs to good use. “HEY!” Their heads snapped towards him. “I’m his lawyer. If you don’t want us to press charges for stalking, then beat it.”

The fans, fortunately, didn’t question the lie and booked it at the first sign of trouble. A few of the paparazzi went with them, but a couple of the persistent ones hung back. “You don’t look like a lawyer to me, kid.” One of them pointed to the fishing tackle Apollo was carrying. 

Apollo pulled out the little golden badge he kept in his wallet exactly for emergencies like these. “Tell that to my attorney’s badge. Now scram.” 

“Ain’t no law against taking pictures.” 

“There’s plenty of laws against trespassing, and this,” he gestured to the area around the beach house, “is my client’s property, and he didn’t give you permission to be here.” 

“We’re outside the property line! It’s fair game!” 

The paparazzo argued with him all the way to Klavier’s doorstep. Apollo pulled out every ounce of legal knowledge he had in hopes of intimidating her away, but she wouldn’t budge. He already didn’t have a high opinion of these people to begin with, but the more he interacted with them, the lower his opinion fell. 

No wonder Klavier had grown to hate his fame. If Apollo had to deal with this on a regular basis, he would have fled into the Valley too. 

Apollo only had to knock twice before the door swung open. Klavier grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him inside. He heard a camera shutter go off just before the door slammed shut, and he wasn’t looking forward to seeing how they spun this story later. 

"Don’t waste your energy on them, Schatz. There is no reasoning with them.” 

Klavier locked the door, and propped a chair beneath the handle for good measure. Apollo’s stomach dropped. Did he really feel so unsafe in his own house that he was barricading the door? 

“But they shouldn’t be here! This is your home! This is a huge breach of privacy!” 

“Ja, and it’s awful, but there is nothing that can be done but wait for them to leave and stalk the next singer that had the misfortune of landing themself in the centre of the news cycle. They are like your archenemy the slimes, ja? You try to get rid of one, and another two will pop up in their place.” 

“But that’s– it’s so– that’s not fair!” 

Klavier sighed and leaned back against the wall, years of dealing with unreasonable fans and journalists weighing down on him all at once. “I know, Schatz. I know.” 

Apollo was so filled with rage that he couldn’t stand still. He dumped his fishing tackle in the corner, and began pacing back and forth to burn off some of his pent up energy. Klavier sat down at his writing desk and watched. 

This was his first time in Klavier’s beach house, Apollo realised through the red haze. It was larger than a studio apartment, but with a similar open plan. The bedroom was separated from the rest of the living space by a pair of room dividers, but Apollo could still see the edge of a bed and a vanity covered in more bottles and creams than what one person could possibly need. An upright piano stood between two of the back windows. 

He didn’t think someone as rich as Klavier, who was surely used to a certain degree of luxury, would be happy in a place so small. Then again, Apollo had never once heard him complain. 

“How did they find you?” Apollo asked even though he was sure he already knew the answer. “Did someone post about the fair online?”

“Many someones. I’ve been trending since the closing ceremony ended. It seems everyone has an opinion on my dazzling return to the spotlight,” he drawled, and flippantly waved a hand. “Did you know I dedicated a song to you during my set to spite Daryan?” 

Apollo scrunched up his nose. “Is that what people are saying?” 

“Among other things. Apparently, I’m also too washed up now to sell out stadiums, and have been forced to resort to tiny little stages at country fairs to make ends meet. It is fascinating how many things you learn about yourself from strangers who have never met you.” 

At least he was joking about it, Apollo supposed, even if bitterness and resentment dripped off every word. 

“And there’s really nothing we can do?” 

Klavier shook his head. “I have already called Herr Edgeworth, and he and Herr Gumshoe are discussing the logistics of installing a tall fence around the property for privacy, but I know from experience that it won't stop people from coming. We will simply have to wait until they lose interest.” 

Apollo huffed. He understood what Klavier was saying, he did, but he couldn’t just stand around and do nothing. Klavier was barricading his front door because he was scared of someone breaking in. He wouldn’t be able to go to the General Store without being accosted by cameras. Apollo couldn’t let him stay here when there were people outside clamouring for even a glimpse of his face, but short of moving out, what else could they do? 

Unless….

“Why don’t you come and stay with me for a little while?” Apollo suggested.  

Klavier’s brows shot up. “You want me to stay with you?” 

“Yeah, just until the media attention has died down and it’s safe to live here again. I can’t promise they won’t follow us there, but the farm is private property so they won’t get anywhere near the house at least. You’ll have more freedom there than being stuck in a tiny house with the curtains shut.” 

“But Schatz, you only have one bedroom.” 

Technically there were two, if they counted his and Nahyuta’s childhood bedroom upstairs, but it wasn’t furnished and Klavier was right in that he only had one bed to offer him. “It’s fine. I’ll just sleep on the couch.” Apollo waved off his concerns. 

“Ach, I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed!”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. We’ll figure out sleeping arrangements later. The point is that you can’t stay here, so you should stay with me instead. It’s safer, and it’ll be more comfortable for you.”

And if something did happen, Apollo could better protect him. 

Klavier shifted in his seat. “I don’t want to impose.” 

“What was it you said to me in the doctor’s office? ‘You’re not asking, I’m offering?’ This is the same thing. You’re not imposing on me if I asked you to stay, Klavier. You can tell yourself this is repayment for everything you did for me when my wrist was broken if it makes you feel better about it, but I’m not leaving you to cower in your own home.”

“I–....” Klavier sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Herr Forehead, you are the most stubborn man I know.”

“And I can get so much worse. Now, pack an overnight bag. We’re going.” 

“So bossy,” Klavier muttered to himself, but still got up to pack regardless. 

While he was doing that, Apollo began working on an escape plan. Ideally, they would make it to the farm without being followed, but leaving the beach house unnoticed was going to be difficult. 

The front door was a no-go. The crowd would pounce the second it opened, and while Apollo could channel his best Athena and shoulder his way through, he would prefer not to put Klavier within touching distance of people who had no concept of boundaries. He was sure Trucy would be willing to provide a distraction if he asked, but he didn’t want to put her in a potentially unsafe situation either. 

Apollo inspected the back windows. There was no one around on this side of the house which was promising. It was built right on the river bank, and there was nothing between the river and the house but overgrown brush. There wasn’t much room for two grown men to move around back there, but they might be able to make it to the bridge without being seen and that was probably the best they could hope for. 

Klavier emerged from the bedroom with a duffle bag, dressed in his celebrity disguise – sunglasses, hair tucked into a baseball cap, and a hoodie with the hood up. With any luck, even if someone did snap his picture, he would be too unrecognisable for them to sell it. “Would it be too much to ask that I bring my guitar as well?” 

It was a heavy item to lug around when speed and discretion were of the essence – Apollo was leaving his fishing gear behind for that exact reason – but he couldn’t bring himself to deny him this one creature comfort. “Fine. Give it to me. I’ll carry it.” 

Once Klavier was ready, Apollo quietly opened one of the windows and climbed out. Klavier passed him the guitar case, which Apollo slung over his back, and then held onto the duffle bag so Klavier could come through next. Klavier swore as the brambles scraped and poked into his legs, but Apollo shushed him. They were not getting caught just because the rockstar couldn’t handle a few twigs. 

“Ready?” Apollo whispered. 

Klavier nodded, and after a few attempts, closed and latched the window from the outside. 

Apollo led him along the river bank, backs against the wall. When they reached the edge, he peeked around the corner to scope out the paparazzi. As expected, they were focused on the front doors and windows, and weren’t paying attention to the back of the house. 

Quietly, they made their way across the beach, shoes crunching on the sand, but they only made it halfway to the bridge before all hell broke loose. 

There was a shout followed by a camera flash. “THERE!” 

Fuck. Nothing could ever be easy, could it?

Without thinking twice about it, Apollo grabbed Klavier by the hand, and made a break for the town. 

They managed to lose them in the woods. Apollo knew the Cindersap Forest like the back of his hand, and after weaving through trees and crossing rickety planks over the river and back, their pursuers soon fell behind until they lost them entirely. Still, Apollo refused to let go of Klavier's hand until they crossed the threshold of the farm house. 

Klavier was quiet all evening, but Apollo chalked it up to the frustration over his current living situation and left him be. He simply dumped Mikeko into his lap for comfort, and then set about making dinner and preparing the house for a guest until night fell and sleeping arrangements became a problem they could no longer ignore. 

Klavier argued with him, predictably, and Apollo argued back, and when all of his other suggestions were shut down, there was only one option left. 

“Which side do you typically sleep on?” Klavier asked. 

It was weird seeing him so dressed down in comfy sweatpants and a sleeveless muscle tee. He looked so vulnerable without makeup on that Apollo suspected this was a side of him he was never supposed to meet. 

“Uh… the left – the side closest to the door.” 

Klavier nodded, and hesitantly climbed in on the other side. 

Apollo ran through his nightly checklist in desperate search of something else he could do to delay the inevitable, but he had already run out of meaningless busywork earlier when he was trying to avoid having the sleeping arrangements conversation in the first place. He had already brushed his teeth, washed his face, and changed into his pyjamas (shorts and a t-shirt because he refused to sleep only in his underwear when Klavier was lying next to him). All that was left to do now was… sleep. 

He could do this. They were both adults – friends, even – and there was nothing wrong with two friends sharing a bed. He and Clay used to do this all the time back when they had sleepovers in high school, and Clay’s bed was way smaller than this one. It didn’t matter that Ema was convinced that Klavier had a thing for him. It didn’t matter that Apollo had been questioning his own feelings lately too. 

It was normal. He could be normal about this. 

Apollo climbed into the bed next to him, cool and fine and not awkward at all. 

Within seconds, Mikeko hopped up onto the mattress after him, and padded across his stomach to settle down in the empty space between him and Klavier. At least they wouldn’t need to consider putting a wall of pillows between them, he supposed. 

“I hope my presence isn’t disturbing the Kätzchen.” Klavier scratched Mikeko behind the ears. 

“Nah, he’s fine. He loves people. If anything, he’s probably excited to have two humans to bother tonight.” Apollo poked Mikeko in the hind. “Don’t be surprised if you wake up tomorrow with his ass in your face.” 

“I’ve woken up to worse.” 

Apollo didn’t want to know what that meant. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over them. 

“Well… goodnight.” 

“Gute Nacht, Schatz.” 

Apollo flicked off the bedside lamp, and laid down on his side with his back to Klavier.  

When he first moved to the farm, it struck him how quiet it was. There were no cars, no pedestrians, no humming streetlights or distant sirens – just dead, eerie silence. At a time when he was already struggling with loss, he had never felt so alone. 

He got used to it eventually, in the same way he got used to the train tracks outside of his first apartment, but with Klavier in arm’s reach, he was overwhelmed by that suffocating silence again. There was no one else around for a mile. Out here, on the outskirts of town, it was only them and a calico kitten in a queen-sized bed. 

The one-foot gap between them felt like a canyon. 

Apollo shut his eyes tight and tried to sleep. He could hear Klavier’s breathing next to him clear as day. He could feel the mattress dip under his weight. He was hyperaware of every muscle, of every twitch, of every toss and turn as if Klavier’s body was his own. He had never been so aware of his own skin. 

“Apollo?” Klavier whispered. 

The use of his name was alarming. “Yeah?” 

“I hate to ask when you have already done so much for me, but….” 

“Yeah?”

“Would you… distract me?” 

Apollo glanced back at him over his shoulder. Klavier was lying on his back with a forearm covering his eyes. From the little he could see of his face in the dark, he looked troubled. “Distract you?”

“Ja. Take my mind off of things so I can sleep. Please.” 

Apollo frowned, once again hit by a small surge of anger at the way the public treated him, and rolled onto his back. Why not? It wasn’t like he was going to get much sleep tonight anyway. 

He wracked his brain for something, anything, to talk about. “Did you know I grew up here?” 

“I believe one of the Fraulëins mentioned it.” 

“Dhurke – the previous owner – was my foster dad. We lived here until I was about four, and then we had to move to the city because the farm wasn’t doing so hot and he got a job as a lawyer.” 

And he talked.

And he talked. 

And then he talked some more. 

Apollo told him everything. How his birth father died in a house fire, and he never found out what happened to his mother. How Dhurke took him in and raised him as his own son until his untimely death when Apollo was nine. How he was split up from his foster brother, and didn’t see Nahyuta again until they ran into each other by divine luck in college. 

He hated talking about his past usually, but Klavier was a good listener and never pried. He was easy to talk to – scarily so – and Apollo hadn’t felt this comfortable with someone since Clay. (That door, however, stayed firmly closed. Somehow, the trauma of losing his best friend didn’t seem like it would make for a good distraction.)

Klavier surprised him by opening up in return. He had lost his parents too in a car accident when he was thirteen, and his older brother raised him. Kristoph had been his favourite person in the world for a time, but Kristoph’s love was conditional, and when Klavier chose music over law, that put a strain on their relationship they never recovered from. 

(“Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve spoken to Kris since I first moved here.” 

“That long ago?” 

“Ja, and do you want to hear something funny, Herr Forehead?” Klavier smiled a crooked, bitter smile. “I think I miss his dog more than him.”)

They talked for so long that Apollo got up at one point to warm some milk and pilfer a pack of chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen cupboard. When they ran out of serious topics, they talked about everything else too – movies, TV shows, music, anything that came to mind. 

(“What music do you listen to then if not hard rock?” 

“I don’t know. Video game soundtracks, mostly?” 

When Klavier laughed at him, he put on the Final Fantasy VII soundtrack to prove a point. Apollo didn’t intend to explain the entire plot of the game to him, but it was inevitable when Klavier’s professionally trained ear kept picking out the recurring motifs.) 

They talked into the early hours of the morning until they could hardly keep their eyes open and they were so delirious with exhaustion that everything was funny. Apollo wasn’t sure when they fell asleep, or even which of them fell asleep first. All he knew was that he would have spent the entire rest of his life lying in bed with Klavier Gavin if he could. 

The next morning, Apollo woke up to his alarm. The high-pitched blaring was hell on his sleep deprived ears, but when he went to move his arm to turn it off, he found it pinned under a heavy weight. 

Klavier’s head was on his shoulder, somehow out cold despite the constant ringing. His hand laid loosely on Apollo’s ribs. 

Apollo jolted, suddenly wide awake. He knew Klavier was handsy, but this was a level of clinginess that he was not expecting and it made his face burn. He needed to move him, to push him off before Klavier woke up and found out they were cuddling, but Apollo was frozen in place. 

This was a side of Klavier he had never seen before.

He looked so peaceful like this, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, unbothered by the world around him. He was warm and his skin was so soft, and this close, Apollo could see the mole on his neck and the faded acne scars on his chin, flawed and beautiful. He couldn’t remember the last time he had woken up next to another person like this – didn’t realise how much he missed it until he was experiencing it again now – and a dull ache of longing throbbed in his chest. 

There were worse positions to wake up in, he supposed, even if he wished his arm wasn’t so numb from Klavier lying on it all night. He was tempted, for a moment, to stay here for a little while longer, to bask in the comfort of another human (and one he had been growing increasingly fond of, at that), but Mikeko had other ideas. 

Mikeko, as he did every morning when Apollo’s alarm went off, hopped up onto the bed, stood on Apollo’s chest, and screamed in his face. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming,” he grumbled. He probably shouldn’t shirk his morning chores anyway. 

Apollo slowly and carefully pried his arm out from beneath Klavier’s head, but while the alarm somehow didn’t wake him, losing his pillow did. 

Klavier blinked up at him, half-asleep and bleary-eyed. 

“Shhhh, go back to sleep. I’m just going to feed Mikeko and the chickens.” 

If Klavier noticed what position they were in, he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded and rolled over without another word. 

With his limbs freed, Apollo quietly got dressed into his work clothes, and stuffed his phone into his pocket. He paused at the door and watched Klavier for a long moment, but when Mikeko started rubbing against his legs impatiently, he tore his eyes away and started his day. 

First on the agenda was Mikeko’s breakfast. Mikeko followed him all the way into the kitchen, and propped his front paws up on the cupboard door as Apollo spooned wet food into his bowl, tail swaying back and forth in anticipation. When he was done, Apollo set the bowl down on the floor and scratched his chin. 

“Don’t you dare wake up Klavier, you little shit,” Apollo cooed in a baby voice. “He knows I fed you, so you’re not going to get any more food out of him.” 

Mikeko butted his hand away and dug into his breakfast. 

With Mikeko taken care of, Apollo headed to the chicken coop next. 

As winter slowly approached, sunrise came later and later in the morning. The farm was still glowing in a blue misty haze when he stepped outside, dew coating the ground and the early morning chill pinching at his hands and cheeks. Apollo had always been an early riser even back in the city, but he grew to love it more here. Mornings were tranquil and fresh, and he never felt more at peace than when the rest of the world was asleep. 

The chickens clucked when he opened the door of the coop. He had eight now – three brown, three white, an unusual blue one Trucy had gifted him, and a strange black and red one that showed up one day out of nowhere. (When he asked Mr. Wright about it, all he said was “Yeah, that happens sometimes.”) He scattered their feed into their trough, and while they were distracted with that, he collected the eggs from their nests. 

Normally, at this point, he would see to his own breakfast before taking care of the rest of his chores, but in the interest of letting Klavier sleep longer, he left the eggs in the kitchen, filled up his watering can, and began tending to the crops. 

The sun had fully crested the horizon by the time he headed back inside. He ditched his farm clothes by the door and switched back to his pyjamas – excessive, arguably, but if there was anything he learned since moving here it was how hard it was to keep a farmhouse clean – and returned to the kitchen. Mikeko’s food bowl was empty and the cat himself was suspiciously absent, but as long as he wasn’t bothering Klavier or scratching the furniture, then Apollo wasn’t going to worry about it. 

Apollo splashed some oil into a frying pan, and cracked half of the fresh eggs into it. While those were sizzling, he popped some bread into the toaster. He wasn’t sure what sort of breakfast food Klavier liked, but knowing he wasn’t vegan, Apollo figured he couldn’t go too wrong with fried egg on toast. Still, he wished blueberries weren’t out of season since he knew those were Klavier’s favourites, but hopefully a handful of grapes would suffice. 

When everything was ready, he loaded two plates onto a tray along with two glasses of homemade orange juice, and carried it into the bedroom. 

Klavier was still asleep right where Apollo left him, though Mikeko had tucked himself under his arm. Seeing Klavier and his cat curled up together hit Apollo so hard it winded him, and he had to stop dead for a full minute to collect himself. He took a deep breath to calm his rapidly beating heart, and set the tray on the bedside table. 

“Hey. Sleeping Beauty. It’s time to wake up.” He gently shook Klavier’s shoulder. 

Klavier groaned like a teenager on a Monday morning. “What time is it?” 

“It’s just after nine.” 

Klavier groaned again. 

“Hey, be glad you didn’t have to wake up at six like I did. Now get up, I made breakfast.” 

Klavier slowly lifted his head and squinted at the tray. “Oh!” It was comical the way he suddenly perked up at the promise of food. “Ach, Schatz, you are too good to me.” 

“Don’t get used to it.” Apollo nudged him. “Move over. You’re hogging the bed.”  

After taking a second to adjust their pillows, Klavier sat up and propped himself up against the headboard. Apollo handed him the tray to hold, and then slipped into bed next to him. He only had the one tray, so they had to sit shoulder-to-shoulder with it balanced on their laps between them, but they made it work. 

They didn’t talk much at first, instead choosing to eat their eggs and toast in companionable silence, but when Klavier started picking at his grapes, Apollo realised he was gearing up to say something important. 

“Can I be honest with you about something?” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

Klavier rolled a grape between his finger and his thumb. “I think I want to quit music.” 

Oh, they were having this conversation. Apollo would be lying if he said he wasn’t expecting it, given why Klavier was in his bed in the first place. 

Apollo turned to better face him. “Is this because of what happened yesterday?” 

“What happened yesterday. What happened last year. What has been happening to me every day since the band took off.” His head thudded back against the headboard, eyes closed. “I’m tired, Schatz. I’m tired of the rumours. I’m tired of every aspect of my life making headlines. I want to go outside without strangers snapping my picture, or commenting on my body, or prying into the personal life of whoever happened to be next to me. I want it to be over.” 

“I don’t blame you,” Apollo said softly. “I don’t think I would have put up with it for as long as you have.” 

“No offense, Schatz, but I don’t think you would have lasted one red carpet. Someone would have made one comment to you about smiling more, and you would have pounced on them like a puma.” Klavier cracked the tiniest of smiles. “I wish I was as brave as you.” 

“It’s not bravery. You just have media training and the sense not to take a swing at a journalist.” 

“There is nothing nonsensical about standing up for yourself and others.” Klavier bumped his shoulder. “Regardless, I think I’m done. I’ve sold out stadiums, won awards, and got platinum records. I have achieved everything I could possibly want from a music career. I will miss performing – gott, I’ll miss it terribly – but I no longer think the thrill of the stage is worth all of this.” He gestured to the room. 

“I mean… you know how I feel already,” Apollo reminded him. “It’s your life, Klav. If you’re not happy with this one, then change it.” 

“And… I’m not happy. I don’t think I’ve been happy in my career for a long time.” 

“Then yeah, I think you should quit.” 

Klavier nodded. “I… I think I will.” 

“Okay. Okay, cool.” Apollo smiled. “I look forward to seeing whatever you do next.” 

Klavier smiled back, tentative and a little nervous, but he looked lighter too, like a weight had been lifted off of him. 

Apollo was proud. It was a big decision to make and a bigger life change, but if anyone deserved to be happy, then it was Klavier Gavin. He was glad he was finally taking whatever steps he needed to ensure that, and Apollo intended to support him every step of the way. 

“I… did have a thought about that, actually,” Klavier admitted. He was twisting his rings in his telltale anxious habit. Somehow, he seemed more nervous about this than admitting he wanted to quit. 

“You’re going to come work for me on the farm.”

Klavier laughed. “You joke, but I did consider it briefly. I think I made quite the attractive farmhand.” He lifted up one of his legs in what Apollo assumed was supposed to be a sexy pose. 

“No comment.” 

Klavier winked at him, but the nerves soon returned. “But no. I… was thinking about taking a page out of a different book of yours.” 

That piqued Apollo’s interest. “Oh?” 

Klavier hummed. He took a second to collect his thoughts. “I believe I told you that I was planning on attending law school before the band took off?” 

Apollo had vague memories of such a conversation back when they first met. “You’re going to law school?” 

“Perhaps. It was just a thought.” Klavier shrugged his shoulder in faux nonchalance. “It has been a pipe dream of mine lately to purchase the beach house and open a little law office of my own right here in the Valley. Ever since I found out that Fraulëin Fey’s sister used to have one in town, it is all I can think about. I like it here. Law has always been a passion of mine. Perhaps I could even continue to perform at the Kitaki’s once the media attention has died down. I could have the simple life I want, and do the work I’m passionate about with people I actually like and who actually like me in return. It sounds like a dream.” 

Apollo could picture it so easily – Klavier in an expensive suit with his hair up, charming clients, and signing contracts with his trademark Gs, and making even civil law sound dazzling. He would commute between the beach and a little storefront on the town square, greeting neighbours with a genuine smile. He would continue to do his small local shows, and afterwards, maybe he would sit with Apollo at the bar and they could talk about his cases and the state of the legal system and the strange things the judge said in court. 

It would suit him, he thought. 

“I think that sounds really nice, Klav,” Apollo said softly. 

“Do you think?”

“Yeah. You should go for it. ‘Gavin Law Offices’ has a nice ring to it.” 

Klavier laughed. “Ach, I fear my brother will sue if I come for his brand like that. We will have to workshop a different name.” 

“Klavier Law Offices.”

“Rockstar Attorney Law Offices.” 

“Glimmerous Fop Law Offices.” 

“Justice Law Offices.” 

Apollo shot him a look. 

Klavier grinned. “Well, if my name won’t work, then perhaps I’ll just take yours.” 

It was such a line that Apollo had to roll his eyes. He grabbed their breakfast tray, and moved to start cleaning up now that they were finished. “We sleep together once and you already want to marry me,” he joked. “That’s moving a little fast, don’t you think?” 

It was quiet, and Apollo suspected he was never supposed to hear it, but Klavier mumbled a small “not fast enough” under his breath. 

He ducked his head to hide his blush and scurried off into the kitchen. 

Apollo wasn’t stupid. He might have been oblivious when it came to romance, but he was smart enough to put together what that meant. 

Ema had told him outright that Klavier was into him, but it was another to see the truth with his own eyes. He didn’t know what to do about it – didn’t know how to feel about it – so for now, until he could figure out what he wanted, he didn’t do anything at all. He continued on with his life as if that revelation hadn’t flipped everything he thought he knew upside-down. 

It stuck with him, however. It was all he could think about. 

If Klavier permanently moved to Stardew Valley, and if Apollo chose to stay, then maybe a relationship wouldn’t be so out of reach after all. 

Maybe he could make a life for himself on the farm, share a house with his cat and his boyfriend, and see his little sister of a neighbour everyday. If Klavier did go through with opening a law office, then maybe he could even do a little legal work on the side. He didn’t necessarily have to choose between the courtroom and the farm. He could have his cake and eat it too. 

It was a pipe dream, strawberry shortcake light and sweet, but it was something he could have if he only reached out and took it. 

Klavier stayed for five nights – two longer than necessary, you know, just to be safe – and then he went home. Even if he hadn’t been there for long, Apollo had grown so accustomed to his presence that the house felt empty and the bed felt cold. 

The words follow your heart looped through his mind like a broken record. 

Apollo had never been to the Pelican Town Cemetery before. He never had a reason to go, considering Dhurke had a memorial on the farm, and Clay was buried in a cemetery in Zuzu City. He may never have visited at all if he hadn’t heard soft crying on his way home from the Kitaki’s one night. 

Apollo weaved through the graves, idly glancing at the headstones as he passed – Mia Fey, Metis Cykes, Gregory Edgeworth – until he found the source of the sound and his worst fears were confirmed. 

“Trucy?” 

Trucy was knelt down in front of a headstone, and frantically wiped at her eyes like she had been caught doing something wrong. “Oh! Hi, Polly! Fancy seeing you here!” She forced out a wet laugh and plastered on a performer’s smile. He didn’t realise how similar she and Klavier were until that moment. “Taking the scenic route home, huh?” 

Apollo frowned. “Trucy,” he slowly approached her, “what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong! I’m just visiting… um….” 

Apollo followed her gaze to the headstone. 

Shadi Enigmar

AKA Zak Gramarye

19XX - 20XX

“A true entertainer always 

keeps a smile 

on their face.”

The name was unfamiliar, but there were only so many people they could be. Grass had grown over the grave so it certainly wasn’t fresh, and there was a logo carved into the bottom that looked suspiciously like Mr. Hat. 

“Shadi Enigmar,” Apollo read and sat down on the ground next to her. He let the question go unasked. 

“Yeah.” Trucy’s voice was small and quiet. Her smile dropped. “He’s my Dad – my um… my birth Dad.” 

Apollo had known Trucy was adopted – she had to be, given how young Mr. Wright was – but he didn’t know the circumstances that led to that situation and didn’t think it was his place to ask. This detail was answering a few questions. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Trucy shrugged. “It was a long time ago. It’s probably silly to still be upset over it.” 

“It’s not silly,” Apollo was quick to reassure her, “I still miss my Dad sometimes, and he died even longer ago.” 

Trucy glanced at him. “Mr. Sahdmadhi?” 

“Dhurke, yeah, and my birth dad too – and I didn’t even know him. He died when I was a baby.” 

“I didn’t really know my Mom.” 

“Hey, me too!” 

“Twinsies.” 

Apollo huffed a laugh. What a thing to connect over. 

For a moment, they stared at the headstone in silence. The cool night air blew through their hair. In the distance, he could hear Athena and Blackquill talking as they made their way back home. 

Trucy leaned into his side, and rested her head against his shoulder. “I didn’t tell Daddy I was coming here,” she admitted. 

“No?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want him to think I love my other Daddy more, or that he’s not a good enough father on his own.”

“Oh, Trucy.” Apollo’s heart melted. “I don’t think Mr. Wright would ever think that. He’d understand if you missed your birth Dad sometimes. Dhurke never held it against me when I missed my birth Dad, and I have a hard time imagining Mr. Wright holding it against you. He loves you.” 

“I know, but… but before he died, Daddy– um… Zak disappeared. He didn’t want to lose his court case, so he left me with his lawyer – Phoenix, my new Daddy – and I never saw him again.” She hugged her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to give Daddy any reason to leave too. I’m sick of people leaving me behind.” 

Apollo was hit with a mix of feelings all at once. 

One: he had no idea Mr. Wright was a lawyer, and he suddenly had a lot of questions for him about his decision to leave law to work on a farm. 

Two: Apollo didn’t know anything about Zak Gramarye, but he decided then and there that he didn’t like him one bit. 

And three: her fear of abandonment was one he knew all too well. That was a fear he had been dealing with every day since he moved to Stardew Valley, and even before then too. 

He understood now why Trucy had been so upset at the idea of him moving back to the city, and while there was nothing he could do to reassure her about that right now, he could at least make sure she knew that she wasn’t alone. 

“I know what you mean.” 

She looked up at him. “You do?” 

“Yeah. My um…. Uh….” 

A lump formed in his throat. He breathed slowly and steadily to keep himself calm. 

He could do this. He could talk about this. It would make Trucy feel better to know he was going through the same thing. 

“A little under a year ago, my um… my best friend died.” 

Something loosened in his chest, a tight knot unravelling. 

“He was an astronaut – and a damn good one too. He had been selected to go on GYAXA’s latest moon mission, but… but there was a problem with the rocket. Something malfunctioned, and there was a fire and….” He trailed off with a shaky breath. Trucy put the pieces together anyway. 

“I think I heard Daddy and Mr. Edgeworth talking about that,” she said softly. “He was Mr. Starbuck’s protogé, right?” 

“Right. Clay Terran.” 

God, how long had it been since he said his name out loud? 

“He’s my best friend – has been since middle school. Losing him was… really, really hard – so hard that when I came here, I was scared of making new friends because I didn’t want to lose them too. If I had my way, I would’ve stayed on the farm by myself, but someone had other ideas.” Apollo poked her in the shoulder. 

“I regret nothing.” 

“Yeah. I don’t either.” He poked her again. “I’m doing better now – thanks to you, and Klavier, and everyone else – but I still get scared sometimes that I’m going to wake up one day, and you’re all just… gone. That you would’ve left me, and I’d be all alone again.” 

Trucy suddenly sat up straight. “Polly, I would never!” She looked and sounded so serious that it startled a laugh out of him. 

“I know you wouldn’t, Trucy, but that’s exactly the point I’m making. I know you wouldn’t leave me on purpose, just like I know that Mr. Wright wouldn’t leave you either. Knowing that isn’t enough to make the fear go away sometimes, but we need to have faith that the people who love us will stick around as best they can, right?”

Trucy settled back down against his shoulder. “Right.” 

“So if you want to talk to Mr. Wright about your birth Dad, then you should talk to him. It might help.”

“That’s true. Thanks, Polly.” 

Apollo wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Any time.” 

“And you know you can talk to me too, right? About your friend?” 

That caught Apollo by surprise. “Huh?” 

“It’s just… I’ve never heard you talk about him before, even though he sounds really important to you. If you wanted to talk about him, then you could talk to me.” 

It was a simple sentiment, one that he had been on the verge of offering her first, but it still floored him. 

The excuses came easily enough – talking about him is too hard, I don’t want to burden you with my problems, saying it out loud makes it feel too real – but now that the opportunity was presented to him, he found that he didn’t want to push it away. 

It had been far too long since he last talked about Clay. In the beginning, when the wound was still fresh, he had needed the distance so he could get through even one day without breaking down. Every memory was a knife, and running away to bury himself in a new project was all he could do to dull the blade. 

Now that the grief had eased into something everpresent but comfortable, he just really missed his best friend. 

There weren’t many things he could do to remember him out here in the Valley surrounded by people who never knew him, but Trucy was right. Talking about it would help. 

Apollo let his head rest against hers. “You want to hear about Clay?” 

“Yeah! Tell me everything! I need to scope out my competition.” 

“Trust me, there’s no competition. You two are playing entirely different sports.” 

“Why? What was he like?” 

Slowly, unbeknownst to himself, a smile tugged at his lips. 

“He was… a huge dork.” 

They talked late into the night until Mr. Wright called Trucy home. 

Spirit’s Eve was Apollo’s favourite time of the year. It was the one holiday he always got into the festive spirit for. He would plan his costume months in advance. He would watch horror movies every single night. He carved jack-o-lanterns, and taped bats to his windows, and ate more candy in a week than he did the entire rest of the year. He loved the aesthetics, the flavours, that little buzz of anticipation he got before a good scare. Apollo was not one for big celebrations, but Spirit’s Eve was the exception he looked forward to every single year. 

This year, however, was different. This year was his first Spirit’s Eve without Clay. 

Clay was half the reason he loved Spirit’s Eve so much to begin with. Growing up in foster homes, holidays had always been a difficult time of the year for him – it was hard to be festive when his family was either in Khura’in or dead – but that first Spirit’s Eve as friends, Clay had given him an old Buzz Lightyear costume that didn’t fit anymore, and dragged him trick-or-treating at every door in his apartment building. He begged his father to let Apollo spend the night, and they stayed up way too late watching slasher flicks and trading candy bars. 

It was the first holiday he could remember feeling truly wanted. 

After that, Spirit’s Eve became ‘their’ thing. If it wasn’t trick-or-treating, then it was firework shows and bobbing for apples. Their first year living together, Clay hid in a closet for two hours to scare the shit out of him, and so Apollo retaliated by slipping a plastic tarantula in his bed. In their senior year of high school, Clay dragged him to a costume party where Apollo had his first kiss with a guy dressed like Spider-man, and Clay had called him Mary-Jane for weeks. 

Spirit’s Eve and Clay Terran were intrinsically linked in his mind, one did not exist without the other, and Apollo didn’t know how he was going to survive the day without him. 

He had been tempted to sleep the holiday away, but Mikeko wouldn’t let him lie in and he knew Clay wouldn’t have wanted him to skip it anyway. Still, he didn’t have the heart to put together a proper costume. He grabbed some worn flannel and an old pair of jeans, ripped some artful tears with a pocket knife, and ordered a generic werewolf mask and gloves online. It was low effort compared to the thrifted cosplays he liked to make usually, but it was good enough for his first Spirit’s Eve alone. He donned the outfit – adding a zip-up hoodie for warmth and ditching the mask, in the end – and headed off to distract himself at the festival in town. 

Pelican Town had been closed to the public in preparation for the night’s festivities, and Apollo could see why when he stepped into the town centre. There were pumpkins and fake cobwebs in every corner. Kay and Blackquill had worked together to create a petting zoo of sorts with creatures from the mines. The Kitaki’s had set up their usual buffet table, and the scent of pumpkin pie and apple cider permeated the air. 

The main event, however, was a sprawling hedge maze that filled the entire park in the north of town. Apollo couldn’t fathom how they managed to set this up, and when he asked around, the only answer he got was “a wizard made it”. (Although, maybe that was his fault for expecting Mr. Wright to give him a straight answer.)

Apollo was trying to decide if he wanted to explore the maze or skip straight to getting drunk on Plum Kitaki’s apple wine when a familiar voice called out to him. 

“Oh! Herr Forehead!” Klavier flashed him a fanged grin. “We’re matching!” 

Klavier had dressed as a vampire, though he was missing several key costume pieces for the sake of wearing something more… revealing, to put it politely. He had abandoned the waistcoat and jabot Apollo would typically associate with gothic vampires in favour of an unlaced silk shirt that showed off almost half his chest. His tight high-waisted leather pants left little to the imagination, his heeled boots added an extra couple of inches to his already impressive height, and his black cape looked too fashionable and couture to be something he hadn't owned already. 

Klavier also had two plastic fangs on his canine teeth that gave him a slight lisp when he talked. Apollo kind of wanted to kiss them. 

“How are we matching?” he balked at the comparison.

“Werewolves and vampires have something of a forbidden romance, ja?”

“Since when?!” 

“‘Twilight’, I would imagine.”

Apollo scowled. ‘Twilight’ and the subsequent boom of supernatural romances were the bane of his existence as a horror lover. “They’re not a ‘forbidden romance’! There isn’t even any werewolf/vampire romance in that series! A lot of modern media likes to depict them as rivals on opposing sides of a turf war, but historically, they originate from entirely separate stories. We’re not matching; we both just came as classic movie monsters.”

Klavier raised his brows, amused. “Ah, I didn’t realise you were so passionate about monsters.” 

“I like Spirit’s Eve,” Apollo mumbled, embarrassed now. 

“I do too. I love a good costume, I must admit,” he flicked his cape dramatically, “and Spirit’s Eve is one of the sexiest holidays too. It’s always nice when I get to let the Fraulëins out, ja?” Klavier squeezed his pecs together with his biceps, and puffed out his chest. 

If Apollo’s face wasn’t red before, it certainly was now. “Yeah… well… that’s… good. For you. Good for you.” He cringed at his own awkwardness. 

Ever since Apollo had picked up on Klavier’s crush, he had no idea how to react to his blatant flirting. It was easier to brush off those remarks back when he thought they didn’t mean anything, but now that they came with a hope Apollo might one day reciprocate, he never knew what to say. It wasn’t that the flirting was unwanted, necessarily – it wasn’t even that Klavier’s feelings were unrequited – Apollo just couldn’t decide what he wanted to do about it.

He was saved from whatever flirty comment Klavier would have made next by Mr. Wright approaching them. “Apollo. Gavin. Nice couples costumes.” 

“We’re not–!” Apollo cut himself off. There was no point arguing with Mr. Wright. He would only double down if he sensed even a hint of annoyance. 

“Danke. I see you have also dressed up for the occasion.” 

To say Mr. Wright had ‘dressed up’ was generous. He was wearing the same hoodie and sweatpants combo he always wore, but had somehow got his hands on one of Mr. Edgeworth’s jabots and wrapped it around his neck. 

“Thanks.” Mr. Wright adjusted his jabot. “I’m trying out a new look. See what all the fuss is about.” 

“Does Mr. Edgeworth know you’re wearing that?” Apollo had to ask. 

“Yeah. He hates it.” Mr. Wright grinned. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Apollo, I need a favour.” 

Oh no. That was never good. Mr. Wright’s ‘favours’ ranged anywhere from mildly humiliating to downright torturous. On a good day, Apollo would have refused before he even bothered to ask what the favour was, but Mr. Wright kept glancing at the hedge maze and he was fiddling with someone in his hoodie pocket. It was worrying to catch him anxious when he was usually so hard to read. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Probably.” He scratched his neck. “It’s just… Trucy went into the maze with Pearls over an hour ago, and she hasn’t come out yet.”

Apollo frowned. “Trucy’s almost eighteen. I think she and Pearl will be okay in the maze by themselves.” 

“I know, and I wouldn’t be such a helicopter parent usually, but when Trucy isn’t answering my texts….” 

That was strange for her, and considering Apollo had found her crying in the cemetery not long ago…. “I’ll go check on her.” 

“Thanks.” Mr. Wright was relieved. “She’s dressed up as a court jester this year, so if you listen out for jangling bells, you might hear her before you see her. I’ll let you know if she comes out before you do.” 

Klavier laid a hand on Apollo’s shoulder. “I’ll join you. Extra eyes, ja?” 

Apollo nodded, and with that, they headed into the maze. 

The hedge maze, as they were quick to find out, was a haunted hedge maze. They made this discovery when they stumbled into the first room, and a large broadshouldered man in blue overalls and a hockey mask leaped out at them, revving a chainsaw. 

Klavier shrieked and clung to Apollo’s back, but Apollo couldn’t tease him about it when he screamed just as loud and made a grab for his arms. 

The man turned off the chainsaw, and lifted his mask with a grin. “Hiya, pals! Did I scare ya?” 

Apollo could only stare at Mr. Gumshoe, dumbfounded. “I-... yeah, you scared us.” 

“I hate scaring kids, but Mr. Edgeworth says the maze does better the more people I scare, so I figured I’d give Ol’ Choppy here a try!” He patted his chainsaw. “She’s already got more screams than my axe did last year!” 

“It is terrifying,” Klavier agreed, his voice thin, “and perhaps a little dangerous when there are little ones about, ja?” 

“Oh, don’t you worry, pal! I only bring out the chainsaw for the adults! For the kids, I use the handsaw!” He pointed to the tool dangling from his hip.

“How… thoughtful of you.” 

“Well, I’ll let you explore the rest of the maze.” Gumshoe pulled his mask back on. “Have a good night!” 

“You too.”

They wandered into the next path. Apollo looked back at Gumshoe over his shoulder, slackjawed. 

“Jason Voorhees doesn’t even use a chainsaw! He’s mixing him up with Leatherface!” 

“I think Herr Gumshoe’s methods instill larger concerns than a lack of accuracy to the source material.” 

“And why does he have a handsaw? Jason’s weapon of choice was a machete!”

“Let it go, Schatz. Let it go.” 

“You know, Schatz, these hedges aren’t that tall. Perhaps, if one of us had a little boost….”

“You want me to pick you up?” 

“Actually, I was going to suggest that I pick you up.” 

Apollo shot him a look. “We established I was stronger than you, remember?” 

“Oh, I remember. It isn’t a strength issue, however, as much as it is a height one. I’m taller, so we’ll get a better vantage point if I lift you.” 

Apollo looked him over. It wasn’t that he thought Klavier couldn’t hold his weight if he wanted to, but…. “You’re not going to drop me, are you?” 

“I would never! Now, up you go!” 

Before Apollo could protest any further, Klavier crouched down, wrapped his arms around his thighs, and stood up. Apollo yelped and frantically held onto Klavier’s shoulders when his feet were suddenly swept out from underneath him. 

“See anything?” 

Apollo didn’t want to admit it, but Klavier did manage to lift him high enough to see over the tops of the hedges. He did a quick sweep of the area in search of a jester’s hat, but quickly surmised Trucy would be far too short to be visible from here. He did, however, spot a part of the maze they hadn’t been to before. 

“We should head for the back eastern corner. I don’t think we’ve checked there yet.” 

“Super!” Klavier set him back down. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

Apollo rolled his eyes, but internally he knew he would be thinking about how easily Klavier picked him up for the rest of the night. 

“TRUCY!” Apollo yelled out at the top of his lungs. “I don’t understand how we haven’t seen her yet.”

They had looped through the entire maze twice, but she was nowhere to be seen. They had found Juniper trying to coach Athena through a room of giant spiders (“‘Thena, spiders are our friends! They’re an important part of the ecosystem!” “Not in my house, they’re not!”), and they had found Maya Fey in front of a broken TV staring into the static so unwaveringly that Apollo hoped she was a part of the set, but they couldn’t find Trucy anywhere. Apollo was starting to wonder if she had even gone into the maze in the first place, or if this was a prank Mr. Wright was pulling on him. His feet were getting tired, and he was sick of looking at hedges, and every new spooky scene they stumbled into was another reminder of how much Clay would have loved all of this if he were still around. By this point, Apollo was beyond ready to leave and down an entire bottle of apple wine. 

“Perhaps she is hiding down one of the right turns you refused to take,” Klavier suggested. 

“Hugging the left wall is the best strategy for solving mazes. I’m not going to diverge from the path and get us lost next.” 

“And what a fine strategy it is – if we were searching for a static target. Perhaps Fraulëin Magician is wandering around as well, and we’ve missed her.” 

“Then she would have heard me yelling. TRUCY!” 

Klavier winced at his loud voice. “Ach, careful, Herr Forehead. There might be a few people in the desert who haven’t heard you yet.” 

Apollo ignored Klavier’s complaining, and yelled again, and again, and would have yelled a third time too if Klavier hadn’t suddenly reached for his arm. 

“Wait, I think I hear something.” 

On the other side of the hedge they were standing next to, there was a rustling. Quiet gasps filled the air. Apollo was suddenly hit with the image of Trucy crying in the cemetery and his stomach dropped. “Trucy?” 

The sounds stopped. 

When Apollo took another look at the hedge, he realised this section wasn’t a hedge at all, but a curtain with plastic leaves sewn into the fabric. It blended in remarkably well with the rest of the foliage. 

There was a secret passage. That’s why they couldn’t find her. 

“Trucy!” Apollo exclaimed and flung open the curtain without a second thought… 

…but it wasn’t Trucy they found sequestered away. 

Kay and Ema leaped a foot apart from each other when Apollo suddenly burst into their secret hideaway. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what they were doing, considering Ema’s mad scientist clothes were dishevelled, and Kay’s Frankenstein’s monster makeup was smeared across her face. Little green lipstick stains adorned Ema’s mouth, cheeks, and neck. 

“Oh! Hi, Polly! Hi, Klavvy!” Kay smiled, and innocently folded her hands behind her back. If she was embarrassed by their interruption, she didn’t let it show. 

Ema, on the other hand, was as red as Apollo’s flannel. “HEY! Find your own make out spot! This one is taken!” She glared at them. 

Apollo’s own cheeks weren’t far behind. “We’re not looking for- we were just- HAVE YOU SEEN TRUCY?” 

“I haven’t seen her since we entered the maze,” Kay said at the same time Ema hissed, “If Trucy was here, do you think I would have let Kay put her tongue down my throat?” 

“Right! Sorry! Right! Sorry!” Apollo shut his eyes tight as if that would help. “We’re just gonna– um–”

Klavier grabbed Apollo’s shoulders. “Pardon the intrusion, Fraulëins. If you see Trucy, let her know that Herr Wright is looking for her, ja?”

“Will do!” Kay saluted. 

“Danke. As you were – and stay safe! STDs are scarier than any monster!” 

“FUCK OFF!” 

Klavier dragged Apollo back into the maze before Ema murdered them both. He pulled him down one winding path, and then another, aiming to put as much distance between them and the girls as possible until they landed in a different dead end on the other side of the maze. 

Apollo was still fighting off the mortification when Klavier looked at him, smile strained and eyes wide. “The plot of Frankenstein is different from what I remember.” 

The absurdity of the situation, of the entire day, hit him all at once. 

Laughter bubbled out of him in a trickle, and then a stream, and then he was giggling so hysterically that he had to lean against Klavier for support. The joke wasn’t even funny, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. 

He had just walked in on his friends making out in a hedge maze. 

He was wandering around a haunted hedge maze dressed as a werewolf, looking for Trucy dressed as a court jester, with help from Klavier dressed as a vampire, and stumbled upon his friends making out while dressed in matching Frankenstein-themed costumes. 

He was in a haunted hedge maze with the guy he liked and who almost certainly liked him too, and Apollo was positive that if he kissed him right now, Klavier would kiss him back. 

He was in a haunted hedge maze with Clay’s favourite musician on Clay’s favourite day of the year, and all he could think about was kissing those stupid fangs in Klavier’s mouth. 

Clay would have loved the haunted maze, and he was dead, and Apollo was daydreaming about kissing Klavier, and Clay was dead, and Apollo would never get to tell him about his stupid crush because Clay was dead, and he would never stop being dead, and Apollo was supposed to go on with the rest of his life being okay with that but how could he be when Clay was fucking dead, and he would never see him again, and they would never spend Spirit’s Eve together again, and- and- and-

Apollo didn’t notice he was crying until Klavier wrapped his arms around him and lowered him to the ground. 

“It’s okay, Schatz. It’s okay. Breathe for me, in and out, nice and slow.” 

Apollo sobbed and hiccupped into Klavier’s neck, and fisted a hand in his shirt. He didn’t know what came over him. The grief had been sitting like a caged bird in his ribs all night, but he didn’t understand why this was the moment it all came flying out. Maybe it was the embarrassment from ruining a private moment between Kay and Ema, maybe it was the stress from how he still didn’t know where Trucy was, or maybe he was always going to have a breakdown tonight and this was when the bomb finally went off. Whatever the case, Clay’s loss was hitting him hard, and he curled pathetically into Klavier’s chest. 

Klavier, kind and patient Klavier, rubbed soothing circles into his back and held him until Apollo had calmed down enough to sit up on his own. “Sorry,” Apollo mumbled. 

“You have nothing to apologise for.” His blue eyes were brimming with concern. “Are you all right?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” He wiped his tears away with the cuffs of his sleeves. “It’s just…. Bad day.” 

“We’ll find Fraulëin Magician, don’t worry. She has to be in here somewhere.” 

“It’s not that. I mean, it’s not just that.” 

He already told Trucy everything. He might as well tell Klavier too. 

“It’s just… Spirit’s Eve is-... was something I used to celebrate with my best friend. He um… he… passed away last winter. This is my first one without him.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. I’m really sick of people telling me they’re sorry.” 

Klavier opened his mouth to apologise again, and then closed it. “That must be really hard.” 

“It was. It is. I miss him so bad.” 

The tears threatened to spill again, but Apollo wiped his eyes before they could form. He had cried in front of Klavier enough tonight. He didn’t want to cry anymore, if he could avoid it. 

Klavier laid his hand between them, palm up, open and inviting. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help.” 

Apollo smiled faintly. “I said the same thing to Trucy recently.” 

Maybe he should take his own advice sometime. Put his money where his mouth is. Keep Clay’s memory alive. 

“He was… an astronaut.” Apollo intertwined his fingers with Klavier’s. “He died in that accident with the GYAXA moon mission last year. I don’t know if you heard about that.” 

Klavier caressed the back of his hand with his thumb. “I remember. I think I saw it on the news. Clay Terran, right?” 

“Oh, man.” Apollo had to laugh. “He would have lost his shit if he ever found out that you knew who he was. He was a big fan of The Gavinners.” 

“Ah, a man of discerning taste!” 

“Don’t flatter yourself. He also poured orange juice into his cereal.” 

He told Klavier everything – how Mr. Terran had called him at work as if Apollo hadn’t been following the launch on social media, how he had spent every hospital visitation hour by Clay’s bedside until he arrived one night to an empty bed, how he hadn’t cried at the funeral but broke down into hysterics when Mr. Terran gifted him Clay’s GYAXA jacket. He had glossed over some of the harder details with Trucy – as mature as she often was, it wasn’t fair to burden a teenager with all his problems – but with Klavier, it all came pouring out. 

“That’s why I moved to Stardew Valley, you know.” Apollo leaned against Klavier’s shoulder, and traced over his rings. “Everything back in the city reminded me of him, and everybody kept asking me if I was okay, and I just… couldn’t take it anymore. I had to get away.” 

Klavier hummed in agreement. “Stardew Valley is a great place to run away to.” 

“I know, I wanted to tell you that I understood what you were going through with your shit, but….” 

“It was too hard.” Klavier squeezed his hand. “I understand.”

“And I’m sorry for crying all over you.” 

“Ach, this is nothing. If you wanted to see a real breakdown, you should have visited me backstage at any given Gavinners concert.”

Apollo snorted. “Yeah, I bet you were a real diva.” 

“Oh, you have no idea. I once cried through an entire intermission because I misplaced my lucky guitar pick, and it was in my pocket the whole time. I had to go on stage in the second act with eyeliner and mascara running down my face because there was no time to fix my makeup. The press called it ‘an homage to emo’.”

Apollo laughed. It was amazing how Klavier could make him do that, even in his lowest moments. “I wish you and Clay could have met. You would have got on like a house on fire.”

“He sounded like a good man.” 

“He was. He was the best.” 

Apollo closed his eyes and rested his head against Klavier’s shoulder. 

His chest felt empty and hollow from the sudden outpouring of emotions, but strangely, he felt better too. It was amazing what talking about your problems with a good friend could do. Part of him wished he had just been open with Klavier from the beginning, but he knew he hadn’t been ready to talk back then. It didn’t feel like it sometimes, but he had come a long way since last winter. 

Maybe someday soon, he could start moving forward again too. 

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Apollo could only smile when he saw who it was, and wordlessly tilted his screen towards Klavier. 

[From Trucy: omg polly i’m so so sorry!!! 😭😭😭 i left the maze like ten minutes in coz pearly didn’t like it!!!! daddy just didn’t notice coz he was annoying mr edgeworth!!!! 😭😭😭 ]

Attached to the text was a selfie of her and Pearl taking bites out of candy apples. 

Klavier chuckled. “Ah, sneaky Fraulëin.” 

“Unobservant Mr. Wright, more like.” Apollo sent a quick reply to reassure her he wasn’t mad, and put his phone back in his pocket. “I’m just glad she’s okay.” 

Klavier nodded. “We should probably get out of this maze then, if Fraulëin Magician has been found.” 

“I kinda want to go home, to be honest.” 

“A fine plan.” Klavier climbed to his feet. “Let me walk you back.”

Klavier took his hands, and pulled him up. 

They didn’t go back to the farm right away. Apollo didn’t want to leave without seeing Trucy first, and then she refused to let him go until he had least joined for some of Winfred Kitaki’s pumpkin pie. They ended up staying at the festival for an extra hour and a half, eating and drinking with her, Mr. Wright, and the Feys, but Apollo didn’t mind. It was a nice reminder that even though Clay was gone, he wasn’t any less loved. 

He felt much better by the time he did head home and could have made the walk himself, but Klavier insisted on escorting him anyway. He didn’t mind that either. 

“I had a nice time tonight, despite, y’know, everything.” Apollo stepped up onto the porch. He was the same height as Klavier when standing on the bottom step. It was kind of annoying that he needed the boost, but worth it if it meant he could look him in his icy blue eyes. 

“That’s good.” Klavier smiled, soft and genuine. “It would have been a shame if you didn’t when you love Spirit’s Eve so much.” 

“I think I’m going to cuddle Mikeko and watch Friday the 13th again.” 

“Ah, did Herr Gumshoe put you in the mood?” 

“Weirdly? Yeah. I need to remind myself that Jason is actually scary.” 

Klavier nodded sagely. “Ah yes, you need to see his chainsaw in action.” 

It was obvious bait, but Apollo still bit it anyway. “He doesn’t have a chainsaw! Leatherface has the chainsaw! You know, the guy from The Texas Chain Saw Massacre?” 

“I’ve never actually seen that one.” 

“Really?” 

Klavier shook his head. “I haven’t seen the Friday the 13th movies either.” 

It was on the tip of his tongue: if you’re not doing anything after this, then why don’t you come in and watch it with me?

It startled him how easy that thought came, how natural it felt. Klavier hadn’t seen them, so of course he should watch them with Apollo. The alternative was to let him go home, and Apollo didn’t want that. He wasn’t ready for the night to end yet. 

He meant what he said: despite everything, he had a nice time running around in a maze with Klavier. It didn’t matter what they were doing – whether it was working on the farm, or playing games at the fair, or just sitting on the pier somewhere and talking – he always had a good time with Klavier. He was kind, and easy to talk to, and it didn’t matter how many jabs Apollo took at him, Klavier rolled with the punches and jabbed right back. 

Life was more interesting with him around. Easier. Lighter. Better. Every time they parted ways, the house would feel emptier, and Apollo couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was missing. He would spend every day with Klavier if he could. 

And then it hit him: he didn’t want to watch just one movie with Klavier. He wanted to watch every movie with him. He wanted to have dinner with him, and lunch, and breakfast too. He wanted to wake up in the morning and see his sleeping face on the pillow next to him. 

He wanted to see Klavier build up his law office. He wanted to help him move into that little beach house permanently (and if Apollo dared to dream, maybe into the farmhouse one day too). He wanted to see what life for Klavier Gavin looked like when he gave up music, how much freer and happier he would be away from the public eye. 

And he still wanted to kiss those stupid fangs. 

He wanted, and he wanted, and he wanted…

But maybe he could have too. 

The invitation to come in and watch a movie was on the tip of his tongue, but those weren’t the words that passed his mouth. 

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” 

Klavier’s face dropped in shock. His eyes widened. “I’m sorry?” 

“Do you want to go out with me sometime?” Apollo repeated, a smile tugging at his lips. “Like, on a date?” 

Klavier cycled through the entire spectrum of emotions. It was funny how difficult it was for him to comprehend this. Was it really that hard to believe that Apollo might like him back? Just how long had he been harbouring feelings for him that he had so thoroughly convinced himself it wasn’t going to happen? 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, I’m sure.” Apollo rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.” 

“I know, but… you did have a rough night tonight, Schatz. I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.” 

“You’re not pushing me into anything,” Apollo was quick to stress, and reached for his hands. “Klavier, I like you, a lot. I want to go on a date with you. I have been wanting to go on a date with you. I probably would have asked you out tonight even if things had gone smoothly. We… we might have to take things slow because of… you know… everything… so don’t expect too much from me, but I promise you, I’ll be okay.” 

Clay would be pissed if Apollo didn’t ask, anyway – especially if the reason he didn’t ask was because of him. 

Slowly, Klavier started to smile. “We can go slow,” he squeezed Apollo’s hands, “there’s a certain romance to going slow, ja?” 

“You do seem like the romantic type.” 

“I am, as you will learn very very soon.” 

“I don’t doubt that.” Apollo had already received his answer, but he needed to hear him say it anyway. “So… is that a ‘yes’?” 

Klavier’s eyes were immeasurably fond. A spark shot down Apollo’s spine, equal parts thrilled and terrified that someone like Klavier would ever look at him like that. 

“Ja, Schatz. It’s a ‘yes’.” 

A seedling of hope, long dormant, bloomed in his chest. 

Chapter Text

Apollo,

Congratulations on winning the Stardew Valley Fair. I must say, I did not expect you to be awarded such an accolade when you have only been working on the farm for no more than a year. The farm has progressed wonderfully in your care and the produce you have sent me has been delightful, but even so, it is surprising that the award was not given to someone with more experience. What an indictment of our agricultural sector if a newcomer such as yourself is considered ‘best in show’. I dread to think what your competitors presented to be deemed lesser than the work of an amateur. 

You are not the only one who has good news to share at this juncture. I was recently presented with an incredible job opportunity – one I would be foolish to turn down. I have already handed in my two weeks notice to Mr. Fender. He was disappointed to be losing another employee (I believe he has accepted that you are unlikely to return to your role), but has wished me all the best. 

It is for this reason that I have decided I should pay you a visit. We have much to discuss regarding our respective futures. I have given you ample time to decide how you want to proceed with your career going forward, and I have reason to believe it is time to make a commitment. 

I trust you will have the house prepared for a guest starting the second week of winter. 

See you soon,

Nahyuta

WINTER

It was just like Nahyuta to visit at the worst possible time of the year. 

The temperature dropped significantly with the change in seasons, and Stardew Valley became blanketed in a thin layer of snow. Because none of his crops would survive the icy conditions, and because Apollo had to keep the chickens inside the coop for warmth, there was little to show Nahyuta when he asked for a tour. 

Apollo led him around the barren fields anyway, gesturing to the areas where he would have had something growing in a less inhospitable season. He took him to the barn Mr. Gumshoe had recently finished repairing, but while he was in talks with Mr. Wright about potentially acquiring a goat or two, he had yet to commit and the barn stood empty and lifeless. Nahyuta was quite fond of the chickens and the chickens were surprisingly affectionate towards him too, but because Nahyuta, for some reason, thought it was wise to wear expensive pastel clothing to a farm, they didn’t stay inside the coop for long. 

Apollo introduced him to Mikeko, showed him Ema’s mushroom cave, and talked him through his plans to fix up the greenhouse. He did everything he could to show him how much love and care he had poured into every square inch of his new home. Nahyuta could be judgemental at the best of times, but when this whole visit was slowly building up to a conversation about whether or not it was wise for Apollo to continue building a life here, he needed Nahyuta to see the value in everything he had done and everything he could do if given a little more time. 

They ended their tour in the north-western corner by Dhurke’s stone shrine. Nahyuta looked it over, face carefully impassive. “It is… cute. Did you build this?” 

Apollo shook his head. He put his hands in his coat pockets to keep them warm. “No, it was here when I moved in. I’ve always assumed Datz had it built. He’s the only person I ever see over here – well, him and the gravekeeper, anyway.” 

Nahyuta hummed and ran a gloved hand over the inscription. A dragon never yields! “He would be honoured, certainly.” 

They stood at the foot of the shrine in quiet remembrance, not speaking. They had worked hard to repair their relationship since reconnecting in college, but even so, they were not the kind to exchange sentimentalities or reminisce. They had already talked about Dhurke more today than they had in years. 

After a few moments, Nahyuta stood up straight, flicked his bangs out of his eyes, and turned to Apollo, back to the shrine. “You have put a lot of work into this place for someone who was only intending to stay here temporarily.” 

Aaaaaand there it was, the elephant in the farmyard. 

“It was supposed to be only temporary. When I first came here, I was only intending to stay two seasons, maybe three.” 

“And now?” 

Apollo didn’t answer him. 

Nahyuta rolled his eyes. 

“Look, what does it matter to you what I do?” Apollo snapped. “It’s my life, Nahyuta. I don’t need your permission or your approval. I’m an adult capable of making my own decisions. If I want to stay here, then I’m going to stay here.” 

“Do you want to stay here?” 

Apollo thought of Trucy, down and dejected because she found out that he was thinking about moving back to the city. He thought of the way Klavier smiled at him, eyes filled with adoration, when he agreed to go on a date. 

“...I’m considering it,” Apollo mumbled. 

It was times like these that he wished Nahyuta wasn’t so difficult to read. His expression didn’t change, but his gaze bore into Apollo as if he could see into the very depths of his soul. 

“Contrary to what you might assume, I did not come here to convince you to leave.” 

“...You didn’t?” 

Nahyuta shook his head. “It is, as you said, none of my business. I do feel a certain familial obligation to ensure you are thinking rationally instead of allowing your misguided emotions to steer you towards, oh I don’t know, taking a sabbatical from your job to move to a farm you had no interest in previously,” Apollo rolled his eyes hard at the snark, “but if this is truly what brings you joy, then I will not stand in your way.” 

“Oh. Okay. Okay, cool.” 

Apollo was pleasantly surprised, but perhaps he shouldn’t have been. Nahyuta may be critical, but he wasn’t unsupportive, even when Apollo made decisions he didn’t necessarily agree with. 

“Then why are you here?” Apollo asked. “Not that I’m not happy to see you or anything, but you made your opinions on this place,” he gestured to the farm, “more than clear last winter. I kind of assumed you wouldn’t come back for anything, so the fact you’re here now… well, I figured this wasn’t just a social visit.” 

“There are matters I felt would be impudent not to discuss in person.” 

“Like…?” 

With little preamble, direct and to-the-point as always, Nahyuta said, “I am moving back to Khura’in.” 

Whatever Apollo was expecting, it wasn’t that. 

“Huh? When? Why?” 

“In the new year. I was offered a position as a prosecutor, and it seemed idiotic not to take it.” 

Of course it would have been idiotic. A prosecutorial role was what Nahyuta had been working towards his entire career – his work with Mr. Fender was only supposed to be a stepping stone – and Apollo knew how much Khura’in had meant to him too. Nahyuta was downplaying it, but this was his dream job he was pursuing. It didn’t get much more perfect than that. 

“Nahyuta, that’s amazing! Does Rayfa know you’re coming back?” 

“Yes, and she has made a point to tell me that the move is not happening soon enough for her liking.” He rolled his eyes, but even on someone as serene and impassive as Nahyuta, the affection bled through. “She has already sent me a list of snacks she would like me to bring her when I fly over.” 

“Yeah, that sounds like Rayfa.” Apollo had to laugh. She and Nahyuta both had… unique methods of showing their care. “I’m happy for you. You’re going to kill it over there.” 

Nahyuta bowed his head in gratitude. “I do have one more piece of news I feel you should know – something that may be of interest in your own career.” 

Apollo wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “Oh?” 

“Are you familiar with Marvin Grossberg?” 

“Am I familiar with the owner of the most prestigious law firm in the city?” Apollo snarked. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him.” 

“According to Mr. Fender, Mr. Grossberg is looking to retire soon. I believe the successor to his firm has already been chosen, but before he leaves, he allegedly wants to take on a new protegé of sorts – a fledgling lawyer he can impart some final pearls of wisdom to before he moves on. He is currently seeking applicants for a paid internship with a guaranteed promotion to junior partner upon its completion. Mr. Fender believes that someone of your work ethic, ambition, and reputation would have a strong chance of being selected, if you chose to apply.” 

Apollo’s jaw dropped. “Me?” 

“Of course, Mr. Fender is not aware that you are considering quitting law, but if you have not completely given up on being a defense attorney, you will scarcely find an opportunity better than this one.” 

Nahyuta was right about that. This sort of opportunity was once in a lifetime. With the job market being the way it was, a guaranteed promotion to junior partner at the most prestigious law firm in the city was the holy grail of job opportunities. An internship with Marvin Grossberg would open so many doors for him – not to mention the pay and the benefits. The health insurance alone was enough to tempt him.

“I mean… I haven’t decided to quit yet.” It was hard not to be swept up in the excitement. 

He had dreamed of this once. It was everything he had ever wanted and more. The old him would have begun drafting up an application before this conversation had even ended. 

The old him wouldn’t have hesitated. 

“But you will have to decide soon,” Nahyuta pointed out. “Applications close in a few days. You cannot afford to dilly-dally longer than that.” 

“I have a few days to apply. Technically, I won’t have to make a decision until I get a job offer, which I might not get at all.” 

Nahyuta rolled his eyes. “You will get an offer.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Perhaps not, but I can be confident. Mr. Grossberg is an old buffoon indeed if he selects anyone else. Besides, you will not get an offer at all if you do not apply.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Apollo conceded, “but what happens to the farm if I go back to the city? I can’t work for Mr. Grossberg and manage this place. It’s too much.” 

Nahyuta shrugged. “Sell it, I suppose.” 

“You want me to sell Dhurke’s farm?” 

“Why keep it? It would only fall into disrepair again, and all your hard work over this past year would be for naught. It seems pointless to hold on to a property for mere sentimental value. If you are not staying here, and I have no use for it in Khura’in, then at a certain point, we should let it go and-”

“Move on, yeah, I know.” 

Apollo bit his lip and looked around. He had grown attached to the farm since he had moved here in the spring, and he would hate to see it fall into ruin again. Maybe it would be better to part with it at that point – sell it to someone who would care for it as much as he did, even if it broke his heart. It wouldn’t hurt to have the extra money either. 

Selling it, however, would mean giving up the farm for good. He wouldn’t be able to change his mind and come back later if he decided he really was finished with law. Whatever decision he made now was permanent. Whatever he chose, there was no going back. 

“...I guess I could apply for the job now, and then decide whether or not I actually want to take it if I get an offer. I mean, it would be stupid of me to give up the farm before I know for sure there’s a job waiting for me, right?” 

“And it would be stupid of you to give up on the job without sending in an application as well.” 

Apollo nodded. “Then I guess I’ll apply, and we’ll see what happens.” 

There was a thud behind him from something falling to the ground. 

Apollo turned around and his heart dropped. 

At some point while he was talking to Nahyuta, Trucy had dropped by for one of her visits. He didn’t know how long she was standing there or how much of their conversation she had heard, but from the look of heartbreak on her face, it wasn’t difficult to figure out what conclusion she came to. 

“Trucy!” 

Before he could explain himself, Trucy picked up her fallen phone, turned on her heel, and ran back towards the ranch. 

“Trucy! Trucy, wait!” 

She disappeared among the trees, gone in the blink of an eye. 

Apollo buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t thought about her reaction at all. “Shit.” 

Nahyuta looked off into the direction she fled, curious. “Who was that?” 

“Trucy Wright. She lives next door. We… we got kind of close over the past couple of seasons. She really doesn’t want me to leave.” 

Nahyuta hummed in thought. “You have people here.” 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“That complicates matters.” 

“Yeah.” Apollo sighed, and rubbed his eyes. “Yeah, it does.” 

Apollo caught up to Trucy later, and told her everything. He stressed multiple times that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere yet, and he wasn’t going to make a decision until he knew for sure whether or not he got the job. Trucy smiled and said she understood, but Apollo had gotten good at reading her and he knew she wasn’t as okay with it as she claimed. 

“You know that even if I do go back to the city, I’m not leaving you, right? We can still be friends?” 

“I know, Polly.” Trucy’s smile wobbled at the edges. “You have to do whatever makes you happy.” 

If only Apollo knew what that was. 

It had been a long time since Apollo had been on a first date. It had been an even longer time since he had been on a first date with someone he liked this much. 

Between Nahyuta’s visit and preparing the farm for the new season, it was mid-winter before they found the time to arrange something. The timing ended up working out however, as by that point, the Night Market had come into town, thus providing them with the perfect date night opportunity. Apollo spent too long gelling his hair and picking out an outfit – his nicest jeans, a jean jacket over a hoodie, a scarf Trucy had knitted for him – and made his way down to the beach. 

His heart was pounding in his ears by the time he reached Klavier’s doorstep. It shouldn’t have been so nervewracking. It was just Klavier, someone he already knew he liked and enjoyed spending time with. 

…But it was also Klavier, someone he really liked, and with whom he really wanted a relationship. It didn’t help that the Grossberg internship was hanging over his head like a guillotine, and he had his doubts that a move back to the city was compatible with Klavier’s plans for the future. He wanted things to work out with Klavier so badly, and there was a chance now that they weren’t going to, and it was messing with his head and throwing his heart into a tailspin. 

“I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine,” he mumbled to himself. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, shook out his hands to rid himself of some of his excess frenetic energy, and knocked on the door. 

There was a crash inside, followed by muffled swearing. Before Apollo could worry about whatever that was, the door swung open, and…. 

“Ach, don’t look at me! I haven’t finished my makeup yet!” 

Klavier had pulled the V-neck of his t-shirt up over his face at the cost of exposing his stomach. Figures he would be more concerned at being seen bare-faced than bare-chested. 

Apollo bit his lip to suppress a laugh. “Klav, I’ve literally seen you without makeup before.” He stepped inside when Klavier waved him in, and quietly shut the door behind him. 

“Not in this context you haven’t! And if I have anything to say about it, you never will!” Apollo could only roll his eyes at the dramatics, but internally, something swooped in his stomach. Did Klavier really care this much about what he thought of him? “Make yourself comfortable. I just need a few more minutes, bitte.” 

Klavier slipped into the sectioned-off bedroom, leaving Apollo alone in the main part of the house. 

Apollo didn’t sit down – not right away, but he would consider it depending on how long ‘a few more minutes’ lasted in Klavier’s time – and instead leisurely paced in the entranceway, idly looking around. The beach house hadn’t changed much since the last time he was here, but he did take notice of the short stack of law books that were now sitting on the writing desk. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to come so early,” Klavier called out from the other side of the room dividers. 

“I’m not. It’s seven on the dot.” 

“On time is early, Schatz, but ach, perhaps it’s on me for expecting you to be anything but punctual. I know what you’re like.” 

Apollo shot a look towards the bedroom. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Klavier laughed softly. “Nothing negative, I assure you. Honestly, it’s what I like most about you. You always say exactly what you mean. If you say you will be here at seven, then come hell or highwater, you will be here at seven. It’s nice. Refreshing.” 

Apollo shifted on his feet. Was this the way things were going to be from now on? Klavier openly praising him with such sweet sincerity that it made his heart skip? “I just don’t see the point in not being honest.” 

“I know you don’t, Schatz. That’s exactly my point. There is no pretending with you, no lies or facades or false pretences. You are exactly who you say you are, and you have no desire to be anyone else. I wish I could be more like you.” 

Apollo couldn’t help himself. He surreptitiously leaned back to steal a peek around the room divider. 

Klavier had his back to him, but he could see his reflection in the vanity mirror clear as day. Klavier didn’t seem to notice him watching, too focused on meticulously applying some sort of pink liquid lipstick to his mouth. Apollo tried not to think about what the purpose of that was. 

“I mean… I don’t want you to be anyone else either. I like you just the way you are.” The compliment didn’t come to Apollo’s tongue as easily as it did for Klavier, but it made the desired impact anyway. He watched as a soft smile tugged at Klavier’s lips, a secret he was never meant to see. 

“There you go. Because you said it, then I know for certain that you meant it. How anyone could resist your charms is beyond me.” 

When Klavier started putting away his makeup, Apollo ducked his head so he wouldn’t get caught spying, and leaned back against the writing desk as if he had been standing there the whole time. 

Klavier emerged from the bedroom a moment later in a soft fitted sweater he must have pulled on when Apollo wasn’t looking. His hair was neatly braided, and his makeup natural yet accentuating. He was as casually dressed as someone like him could dress, but Apollo knew that every aspect of his look, from the number and placement of his rings to his exact shade of lipstick, was strategically picked out. Knowing him, he probably planned this entire outfit a week in advance. 

Apollo had to wonder if this starstruck feeling, this wondrous disbelief that someone would go to all that effort just to impress him, would ever go away. 

“You look good, Schatz.” As if Apollo wasn’t flustered enough, Klavier’s eyes shamelessly ran up and down his body. “Very handsome.” 

Apollo swallowed. “So do you – though you always look good.” 

“It’s still nice to hear.” Klavier smiled, and gave his arm a light squeeze on his way to the door. He wrapped himself up in a black coat and violet scarf, and after a quick check to make sure his hair was still sitting right, he turned back to Apollo. “Ready?” 

Apollo nodded, and together, they stepped out onto the beach. 

Apollo had never seen the docks so busy. Little shop boats were parked along every pier, selling anything and everything from homemade trinkets and fibrecrafts, to desserts and mulled wine. A man in a strange visor was offering free samples of the most bitter coffee Apollo had ever tasted. Trucy’s Uncle Larry was peddling tacky clocks sculpted to look like The Thinker. There were vendors selling Winter Star decorations, and seasonal plants, and seeds upon seeds of crops that were long out of season. Apollo worried that the surrounding bustle would bother Datz in his shop, but no, he happily sat outside the door, whittling and chatting with every local and tourist that passed by. 

There was so much to see that it was overwhelming, but Klavier had been here last year, so Apollo let himself be dragged to whatever little shop boat had caught Klavier’s interest. 

“Here, Schatz, try this.” 

Klavier held a disposable spoon up to his mouth, and Apollo ate it without thinking twice about it. He was embarrassed the first time Klavier had fed him something, but they were four samples in by this point and that ship had long sailed. “It’s good.” He mulled over the taste. “Really sweet – and cold. What is that?” 

“Starfruit ice cream,” Klavier explained, tossing the spoon in the trash after he had his own taste. He didn’t seem to care that Apollo had used the spoon first. 

“Who sells ice cream in the middle of winter?” 

“Some people enjoy eating cold things in the cold.” 

Apollo made a face. “Why?” 

“I haven’t the foggiest.” Klavier looked around, and lit up at a nearby stall. “How do you feel about hot chocolate?”

“Better than I feel about ice cream.” 

Klavier took him by the hand, and gently tugged him along, the warmth of his palms a welcome heat on his chilled fingers. It struck him how warm Klavier always was, even now when the temperature outside was so low. 

Apollo had to argue with Klavier to allow him to pay for their drinks, and then with paper cups in hand, they left to sip them in the shelter of the fishing shack and out of the coastal wind. 

“I spoke with my manager about my plans to leave the music industry,” Klavier offered once they were sufficiently warmed up. 

Apollo peered at him over the rim of his cup. He already knew about these plans, but Klavier choosing to tell his manager was the first step towards committing to them, a pendulum swinging into motion. “How’d she take it?” 

“Not well,” he smiled wryly, “but, to be fair, I was essentially firing her. If I don’t have a career in music, then by extension, neither does she.” 

Apollo could hear the guilt plainly in his voice. “You can’t keep working a job that’s making you miserable just because you don’t want to upset anybody. I’m sure she’ll find some other star to parade around on stage in no time. She’ll land on her feet.” 

“Ach, I know, but I still feel bad. She hasd supported me for years, and took my side when everything broke down between Daryan and I. I feel bad tossing her to the wolves.” 

“You need to do what makes you happy, not what makes other people happy,” Apollo stressed. “She’ll get over it.” 

“I know, and in her defense, she did come to accept my decision once it sank in that I was serious this time. It’s nearly every day now that I get a new email from her about my ‘exit strategy’, as she puts it.” Klavier rubbed his temple as if to stave off an oncoming headache. “I should have tweeted something and put my phone down. Instead, I am to be subjected to interviews and press conferences and who knows what else. I fear that, once the news breaks, the paparazzi problem is going to get far worse before it gets better.” 

As far as Apollo knew, the paparazzi had largely left Klavier alone now that his performance at the Stardew Valley Fair was no longer relevant, but he could see Klavier’s point. If that little stage show was enough to attract pests, then the revelation that one of the biggest rockstars in recent years was quitting music to become a lawyer, of all things, would certainly shake the worldview of Klavier Gavin fans everywhere. The crowd that was going to attract would be unmanageable. 

“Well, if people start congregating outside your door, you can always come stay with me again.” 

“Oh?” Klavier perked up…

“Yeah. I had to get another bed for Nahyuta, so I have a guest room now.” 

…and instantly deflated. “Oh.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes, but he could feel his traitorous cheeks betraying him. “We’re taking it slow, remember?” 

“Ach, but would it really be speeding things up to do something we have already done before?” 

“Yes.” 

“Spoilsport.” Klavier playfully poked him in his reddening cheek. Despite all his whining, however, Apollo was sure that if the hammer did fall, Klavier wouldn’t push his boundaries. “Anyway, with any luck, it will not come to that. I’ll have to stay in my apartment in the city while I’m drowning in interviews, so we’ll let my doorman deal with them.”

“You’re leaving?” 

Apollo felt his heart drop. A little voice in the back of his head whispered ‘hypocrite’. 

“Only for as long as it takes to clean up the inevitable mess my career change will cause. Believe me, Schatz, I will be returning here – to the beach house, to Pelican Town, to you – as soon as I possibly can.” 

Klavier ran his knuckles down the side of Apollo’s face in a gentle caress, his gaze as soft as his voice. The touch should have warmed him down to his toes, but instead Apollo felt his stomach clench. 

Depending how the chips fell, then there was a chance there would be no Apollo for Klavier to return to. 

Apollo hadn’t told him about the Grossberg internship yet – there had been plenty of opportunities, but no words to give him – and he wasn’t about to ruin their first date by telling him now. Still, he hated letting him believe a future between them was inevitable while they were standing on such shaky ground. He hated leading him on. 

When Apollo didn’t respond, Klavier swiftly moved on, though the topic change brought him no relief. “How was your brother’s visit, by the way?”

Apollo wasn’t going to tell him exactly why Nahyuta had come – not here, not now – and scrambled for something else to say. “Good, I think. He’s never had any interest in the farm, but he was sure to tell me everything he thought I could be doing better.” 

Klavier laughed. “Older brothers are like that, ja?” 

“‘Apollo, what is the point of a barn if you’re not going to do anything with it?’” Apollo recited, dropping his voice down an octave in an attempt to capture Nahyuta’s smooth tones. “‘Apollo, you really should have invested in sprinklers by now instead of watering everything by hand.’ ‘Apollo, this is not how our father did things’ – nevermind that he remembers living here as little as I do.” 

“Ah, it’s like looking in a mirror.” Klavier shook his head. “Did you have a good time at least?” 

Apollo nodded. “It was good to see him. It might be the last time we get to hang out for a while. He’s moving back to Khura’in soon for work.”

“Back to Khura’in?” 

“That’s where he was born, and he lived there for a long time after Dhurke died. All of his family lives there, so I think he was keen to find a reason to go back – well, all of his family, except for me.” 

“And you’re not from Khura’in as well?”

“As far as I know? No, but I don’t really know where I’m from. For all I know, I could be from here.” Apollo shrugged with faux nonchalance. 

It still stung, even after all these years, that he didn’t know something so simple about himself. It left him feeling unmoored and untethered, wondering if he was destined to never have a home at all. 

You could have one here, if you weren’t a coward, a voice in his mind supplied. 

But, I could have one in the city too, Apollo fired back, and all I’ve ever learned how to do is cut and run. 

“How serendipitous would that be?” Klavier smiled. “Being born in the Valley, and then unknowingly settling down on your own accord many years later. Ach, it’s like a song.” 

Apollo felt a pang in his chest. Right. Settling down. 

“Don’t get any ideas, rockstar, you’re a lawyer now.” He downed the rest of his hot chocolate, crushed the paper cup in his hands, and tossed it in a nearby trash can. He was done talking about this. “Isn’t there a show or something you wanted to take me to?” 

Klavier lit up, easily distracted by the promise of a performance, and pulled him along towards another boat. 

The show, as it turned out, was a mermaid-themed concert. Apollo spent the entire performance trying to place where he had seen the singer before, and it didn’t click until the final bow that she was Lamiroir, the woman who read his and Trucy’s fortunes at the Stardew Valley Fair. 

Klavier was quite taken with her, not that Apollo could blame him. Her voice was breathtaking, equal parts haunting and soothing, and her song was going to sit with him for a long time. Klavier was determined to speak with her and was willing to use every ounce of celebrity charm he still had to get backstage, but Apollo couldn’t face her, couldn’t risk her asking him if he had solved his dilemma about his career, and opted to wait for Klavier outside. 

He had been standing by himself for maybe a minute before Trucy found him. 

“Polly!” She bounded up to him, bright and joyful, her current frustrations with him seemingly shelved for the moment. “Are you here with Klavier?” She rocked back and forth on her heels with a suspicious amount of innocence. 

“Maybe.” Apollo glanced around. “Did you come by yourself?” 

“Nope! I’m here with Daddy and Mr. Edgeworth, but they’re scolding Uncle Larry right now.” 

Sure enough, Apollo spotted Mr. Edgeworth hovering dangerously close to Larry, quietly seething about something or other with a look that could turn sand into glass. Mr. Wright stood between them, less mediating and more contemplating what they’re going to do with Larry’s body when Mr. Edgeworth inevitably killed him. Apollo didn’t know what was going on there, but from the little he did know about Larry Butz, he suspected that was for the best. 

Trucy leaned in towards him conspiratorially, eyes glinting. “Are you and Klavier on a date?” 

Apollo tensed. They hadn’t talked about whether or not they were going to tell anyone about this tentative shift in their relationship, but he assumed that taking things slow also meant keeping things secret. He wondered, briefly, how Trucy came to that conclusion (Was it the handholding? It was the handholding, wasn’t it? He knew he shouldn’t have let Klavier hold his hand in public), but she had always been too astute for her own good. 

Case in point: Apollo took a little too long to answer, and her face lit up. 

Apollo shushed her before she said anything. “As far as anybody is concerned, Klavier and I are just hanging out, so don’t say anything. Don’t even say anything to Klavier. I don’t need you scaring him off with your scheming.”

Trucy gasped, and laid a hand on her heart. “I would never!” 

“Never?” Apollo eyed her, unconvinced. 

“Never! I just think that, as the official guide of Trucy’s Showstopping Non-Stop Tour of Stardew Valley, it’s my job to inform you of the local courting customs.” 

Apollo already regretted asking. “Courting customs?” 

“Yep! In the Valley, it’s customary to give someone a bouquet of flowers from the General Store when you want to go steady.” 

“That sounds less like a custom, and more like a marketing ploy.” 

“Don’t be so cynical, Polly! I bet Klavier would think it’s romantic.” 

Klavier probably would find it romantic, and to the point Apollo was now worried that he was carrying a bouquet on him, and would whip it out the second Apollo showed even the slightest interest in ‘going steady’, as Trucy put it. The worst part was the thought alone excited him, even though he knew he was nowhere near ready for that. 

“We’re not at that point yet –”

“Yet.” 

“– but I’ll keep that in mind for the future.” 

“Or you could do it right now!” 

Before Apollo could ask what she meant by that, Trucy reached into her coat sleeve and pulled out a bouquet of flowers with a magician’s flourish. She beamed, all too proud of herself. 

“Trucy, what the hell?” Apollo couldn’t fathom how she fit flowers of that size into her narrow sleeve. He especially couldn’t fathom why she had it with her to begin with. 

“Well, I knew you weren’t going to get him one, so I thought I’d give you a little help! He’s a popular guy, you know. You have to make sure he knows you’re interested.”

“I’m on a date with him. I think he knows I’m interested,” Apollo said flatly. 

“But he could know you’re very interested!” Trucy pushed the bouquet into his chest, and Apollo was forced to grab it so it didn’t drop. “Come on, Polly! Don’t be shy! Just think about how happy Klavier would be if you gave him one of these!” 

Apollo was sure he would be. He may not have fully understood why someone as drop dead gorgeous as Klavier would ever look twice at him, but he didn’t doubt that Klavier liked him. 

What didn’t make sense was why Trucy was being so persistent about this. She had always taken a great interest in his love life, but this was a little much, even for her. 

“Trucy. I’m not going to ask Klavier to be my boyfriend because we’re not there yet,” he spoke slowly, emphasising each word to make sure she got it this time. “I’m not giving him the bouquet.” 

“But you like him, right?” 

“I mean, yeah, I like him, but-”

“Then you should give him the flowers! Why wait? If you like someone, then you should tell them!” Trucy’s smile was almost manic, and she latched onto his arms with the tight grip of desperation. “You deserve to be happy, Polly, and Klavier makes you happy, so you should be together! I think you both could be really really happy here, if only you let yourself commit.” 

Apollo’s heart sank as it slowly dawned on him what Trucy was actually trying to do. 

She wasn’t pushing him to commit to a relationship because she really wanted him to be with Klavier; she was pushing him to commit to a relationship because she thought if the two of them were dating, then maybe he would decide against moving away. 

If Apollo wouldn’t stay for her, then maybe he would stay for Klavier. 

“Trucy,” Apollo gently laid a hand on her arm, “I’m not going to plan my entire future around a guy I have gone on one single date with.” 

Her smile faltered, and the light in her eyes extinguished. 

It seems he hit the nail right on the head. 

“I’m flattered you want me to stay so badly that you’re willing to do all of this,” he waved the bouquet, “but I have to make my decision based on what’s best for me, okay? I have to think about this rationally. Giving up a really cool job opportunity for a guy who might want nothing to do with me by next season isn’t rational.” 

“But what about following your heart?” Trucy sounded so sad that it was almost enough to break him.

“The fortune teller was a grifter, Trucy. She can’t actually see the future. That was just a vague platitude designed to push me towards whatever decision I would have made anyway. It doesn’t mean anything.” 

Trucy puffed out her cheeks and probably would have argued with him further, but then the door of the boat behind them opened, and Klavier stepped out. 

Apollo quickly spun around to face him and hid the bouquet behind his back. He held Trucy’s wrist with his other hand, and hoped she picked up on the meaning: don’t breathe a word of this to Klavier. 

“Schatz, you should have come with me! Lamiroir is divine. I swear she was blessed by the nine muses themselves.” 

Once he was safely on the docks, Klavier gave them his full attention, and Apollo could see the exact moment he clocked that something had happened while he was inside. He was too smart not to notice, but Apollo banked on him having the tact not to mention it. 

“Ah, Fraulëin.” Klavier plastered on a smile for Trucy. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hi, Klavier!” Trucy chirped, perking up as if she wasn’t upset mere seconds ago. “Are you enjoying the Night Market so far?” 

“Ja, it has been wunderbar. Have you tried the hot chocolate? I was just telling Herr Forehead we should grab another cup before I got distracted.” 

“Oooooh, I haven’t! I’ll have to ask Daddy to buy me some!” 

“Speaking of which,” Apollo cut in, “he’s probably wondering where you disappeared to.” As stealthily as he could, he whacked Trucy in the back with the bouquet until she got the hint and took it from him. 

“Yeah, I should leave you to it.” Trucy snatched it out of his hands. “I would hate to scare anyone away.” 

Apollo winced at her tone. She could be surprisingly venomous when she wanted to be. 

“Anyway,” Trucy brightened up, “bye Polly! Bye Klavier! Have fun, but not too much fun.” She winked. 

“Tschüss, Fraulëin! Beg your father for lots of sweets!”

“I will!” 

Trucy skipped off down the docks. Once she was far enough away, she whipped the bouquet into the ocean in a huff. 

Apollo sighed. He had no idea how he was going to fix this mess, but he would have to find a way to get through to her, somehow. He hated how much he was hurting her, and they couldn’t go on like this. 

“Is she all right?” Klavier frowned. It seemed he spotted her throwing the flowers away too. 

“Yeah, it’s just… a bad day.” Apollo rubbed his face. “Let’s just give her some space for now. I'll talk to her again another time.” 

When Klavier continued to watch after her, brows knitted together in thought, Apollo took his hand to grab his attention. 

“Hey, isn’t there something else you wanted to show me?” 

Klavier, mercifully, took the bait. “Ja, and I think you’re going to like it very much.” 

In Klavier’s defense, his logic was sound. Apollo liked fishing, so why not take a deep sea fishing trip while the Night Market submarine was in town? It would neatly mirror that day they had their first conversation on the fishing dock, and Klavier was a self-described romantic. 

Unfortunately for the both of them, Apollo had neglected to inform him of his debilitating fear of drowning. 

The submarine lurched as it began its slow descent, and Apollo shut his eyes tight and gripped onto the railing so firmly his knuckles turned white. The railing in question encircled an open water viewing deck built into the floor, and while the doors were currently shut for the descent, Apollo had vivid visions of the mechanisms failing and the doors flinging open to fill the cabin with water. 

“Ach, my apologies, Liebling. If I had known you were claustrophobic, I never would have suggested this.” 

Klavier sounded more upset than Apollo felt, his guilt palpable, but as much as Apollo would love to pin the blame on someone, he knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had known full well he was going to hate every second of this, but he had let himself naively believe that if Klavier was here, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 

“It’s not the tight space,” Apollo explained, his voice strained, “it’s the….” He gestured at the viewing window somewhere behind them that he was diligently avoiding looking through. If he didn’t see the outside, then he could pretend they were still above the surface, and there wasn’t an entire ocean of water pressing down on their tiny metal death trap. 

“You’re afraid of the water?” 

“Nahyuta and I fell into the Cindersap Woods’s river when we were kids. He got over it. I didn’t.” 

“So when we were on the boats….”

“Why did you think I was holding onto you so tightly?”

“I thought you were trying to be cute!”

Apollo laughed, but it quickly morphed into swears when the submarine jostled again. Every creak, every groan of the hull set the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He wasn’t the type to get seasick, but his stomach still churned anyway. 

“If it helps at all, they wouldn’t have let us on board if there was even a chance of it sinking,” Klavier gently reassured him. 

“Tell that to the passengers on the Titanic,” Apollo shot back. 

“I don’t think we have to worry about icebergs this close to shore.” 

“Leaks can still happen.” 

“If a leak happens, drowning will be the least of our worries. With this much pressure, the submarine would implode rather than fill with water, and we would all perish instantly.” 

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!” 

“Right! Right. Sorry.” 

Klavier laid a hand on the small of his back and huddled close to him, the touch comforting him more than his words did – at least, it comforted him until the submarine shook violently as it came to a stop. Apollo swore again, letting go of the railing with one hand to make a grab at Klavier instead, and buried his face into the crook of his neck. This close, he could feel the rumble in Klavier’s chest as he chuckled, and he might have enjoyed it if he wasn’t terrified out of his mind. 

Around them, the submarine was filled with the screeching of metal as the doors of the viewing deck groaned open, but Apollo didn’t dare remove himself from his safe haven in Klavier’s chest. He was staying right here until they were back on dry land. He didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed at how much he was clinging to him, though he was sure the shame would catch up to him later. At least they were the only people on board aside from the captain so no one would know how clingy he was being. 

“You can fish now, if you want,” Klavier whispered into his hair. 

Hesitantly, curiously, Apollo cracked open a single eye. The doors had opened fully now, leaving a gaping hole of sloshing water in the middle of the floor. The ocean was so dark down here that he couldn’t see the sea bed, couldn’t tell from a glance how deep they were. 

Apollo yelped as a spike of terror struck him, and he fled backwards away from the viewing deck until his back hit the wall. He grabbed Klavier by the waist and yanked him along with him because the only thing worse than falling into that pool and drowning was Klavier falling into that pool and drowning first. 

Klavier didn’t complain about being manhandled so suddenly, and gamely draped his arms around Apollo’s shoulders. “All right. No fishing.” 

“Distract me,” Apollo mumbled into his neck. “I want to think about literally anything else.” 

Klavier was quiet for a moment, hands grazing Apollo’s spine as his long piano-playing fingers traced shapes into his back. “Do you know what I thought the first time I saw you?” 

“...‘Look at the idiot covered in broken eggs’?” 

“Before that, Schatz, as charmed as I was by the idiot covered in broken eggs.” 

It took a second to place where Klavier might have seen him before the Egg Festival. It wasn’t a memory he liked to dwell on. “When I came to your show at the Kitaki’s for the first time.” 

Klavier nodded. “I spot new faces at my performances so rarely that you stood out to me immediately, and I remember seeing you sitting at the bar and thinking to myself: Gott, I hope he isn’t a fan.” 

Apollo’s stomach sank. It never occurred to him how much his presence at that show might have worried Klavier, but it made sense. He had moved to Stardew Valley to escape fans, and there was no way for him to be sure that Apollo hadn’t followed him there. 

It was strange to think back to that night now. To Klavier, Apollo had been a stranger who posed a potential danger to his relative privacy, and to Apollo, Klavier had been an immense trigger for his grief. He couldn’t be in the same room as him back then without feeling a telltale sting in his eyes, without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss pressing down on him. Back then, Klavier was nothing more than Clay’s favourite musician, and if Apollo had his way at the time, that’s all he ever would have been. 

The Apollo of early Spring would have never guessed he would end up here. 

“I hope I don’t need to tell you, Schatz, how happy I am that you were not a fan.” 

“I would’ve respected your privacy even if I was a fan.” 

“I know. You have made your opinion on my lack of privacy more than clear, my gallant knight in garish red.” Klavier gave him a little squeeze. “But what I’m trying to say is… I don’t date fans, and I loathe to think how empty my life would be without you in it.” 

“Oh,” was the only word Apollo could find to say to that. His heart clogged his throat. 

“It’s as I said before we left: you always say exactly what you mean, and you never pretend to be anyone other than who you are. Now, I’ve thought you were handsome since the first time I laid eyes on you – it was a large part of the reason why I was hoping so desperately you weren’t a fan, in fact – but the moment I realised you were something truly special was the night we watched the Moonlight Jellies.” 

With the submarine floating steadily in place, Apollo felt brave enough to lift his head, and his breath hitched. 

Klavier was smiling down at him like he had hung the sun itself, warm and fond and utterly adored. One would be forgiven for thinking he was staring at the Greek god himself with a look like that, eyes filled with devotion, like Apollo was something sacred to be cherished and revered. 

Apollo had never been on the receiving end of a look like that before. 

If the water didn’t kill him, then Klavier’s eyes certainly would. 

“You saw right through me that night in a way no one else ever had. In my line of work - or former line of work, I suppose – I am no stranger to being scrutinised. Dissected. Torn apart. There are legions of strangers online who claim to know me deeply because of lines in songs and facial expressions I apparently made in interviews, who claim to know what I’m thinking, how I’m feeling, what I want. There are articles upon articles about me, and not a word of them true. Do you know why?” 

Apollo could hazard a guess, but Klavier was clearly building up to something meaningful, so he played along. “Why?” 

“Because, mein Liebling,” Klavier’s smile turned wry, “they all mistook the rockstar persona for the real deal – everyone except you.”

Apollo blinked, taken aback. “I can’t be the only person who cares about the real you.” 

Klavier shrugged. “Daryan used to, before fame and jealousy clouded his judgement and he could only see me as the arrogant self-centred frontman the media loves to paint me as. Kristoph used to, but once I grew up and diverged from the person he wanted me to be, his interest dwindled into nothing. Sometimes I wonder if they ever cared about who I was or what I wanted – not like you.” 

Klavier's voice was soft as snow. His wandering hand came to rest on the back of Apollo’s neck as if to keep him in place, but Apollo couldn’t look away from him even if he wanted to, his eyes a magnetic pull that kept him helplessly in his orbit. 

“You, however…. Not only did you see through the persona, but you cared about what you saw too. You saw that I was suffering and saw fit to check on me. You encouraged me to be open about how I felt instead of expecting me to slap on a smile and get over it. You, at every turn, have done nothing but encourage me to be myself, and pursue my own path, and do whatever I need to do to be happy. You actually care, Schatz, and not because I'm the lead singer of the Gavinners and you think a friendship with me would benefit you in some way, no, no, no. You have never given one shit about the Gavinners.” 

“Guilty Love isn’t completely terrible,” Apollo mumbled. 

Klavier’s laugh echoed in his chest. “Ach, what glowing praise. I should put that on the album cover.” 

He leaned in teasingly, enticingly, and Apollo’s gaze dropped to his pink-painted lips. 

“No, Schatz. You care because you're a good person who pays attention and can't stand idly by when someone is struggling. You care because you saw something in me worth caring about – something not even I knew existed. You care because, for reasons I don't understand, you actually like me – the real me – and that is worth more than my weight in gold. Genuinely, Liebling, I don't know where I'd be – who I'd be – without you.”

Their faces were very close. It would be so easy to tilt his chin up and close the distance. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he was aware that they were supposed to be taking things slow, but it was hard to remember why at that moment, and he had been wanting to kiss him for so long. 

He wasn’t in love with Klavier – not yet, anyway, but if things carried on as they were, then he would be one day. It felt as inevitable as the changing of the seasons. The tides will ebb, the sun will set, Apollo Justice will fall in love with Klavier Gavin. 

The thought scared him and set every nerve alight, but he couldn’t bring himself to back away. Klavier was right: Apollo cared about him so damn much it hurt. 

Klavier was on his mind all the time. When he wasn’t around, Apollo wondered what he was doing, how he was feeling, if he thought about Apollo even half as much as Apollo thought about him. He felt pathetic, sometimes, daydreaming about a person that everyone else his age was also daydreaming about, but he knew he wasn’t the same as them because, for some unknowable reason, Klavier cared about him too. 

Klavier didn’t look at anyone else like they were something priceless. 

He didn’t hold anyone else like he was scared they would disappear if he let go. 

He didn’t speak to them with honey-sweet words and a voice as plush as velvet, didn’t whisper soft reassurances into their ears when they were hurt, and he certainly didn’t talk about them like they had breathed air into his lungs and brought him back to life. 

Klavier liked him – a lot – and Apollo liked him too, and it would take such little effort to close the gap and kiss him. He could have everything he ever wanted with one gentle press of their lips. 

Klavier leaned in ever further, his breath ghosting his skin. “I don't want to imagine what my life would be like without you in it.” 

And the spell broke. 

It was like he had been doused with a bucket of ice cold water. His wax wings melted and he plummeted head first into the ocean. 

Apollo blinked up at Klavier, and his gentle smile and lovestruck eyes came into sharp focus. The submarine groaned around them. The hand on the back of his neck burned. 

The Grossberg internship. He forgot about the Grossberg internship. 

Klavier didn’t know. 

There was a chance they couldn’t be together, and Klavier didn’t know. 

This was why he didn’t want to get close to people. This was why he had wanted to keep Klavier, and Trucy, and everyone else at arm’s length. He couldn’t get hurt if he didn’t have anyone in his life capable of hurting him, but no, Apollo had to go and do something as stupid as fall for Klavier Fucking Gavin, and now another person he cared about was going to be ripped from him, and this time, he was the one holding the knife. 

Unaware of his internal crisis, Klavier brushed their lips together. 

Apollo shoved at his chest in a panic. 

Klavier stumbled back, hands raised in a placating gesture. His expression flickered from surprise to rejection before settling on guilt. It was worse knowing Klavier thought this was his fault. “I’m sorry. I… misread the situation.” 

“I’m moving back to the city.” 

Apollo didn’t know why the words came out like that, and he immediately regretted them when Klavier’s eyes widened in shock. 

“I mean– I didn’t mean– I– I– I don’t know yet if I am moving back, but….” 

“But you’re thinking about it,” Klavier said, his voice carefully even. The absence of emotion was an emotion in and of itself. 

Apollo swallowed. “When Nahyuta was here, he told me of a job opportunity he thought would be good for me. Marvin Grossberg – the owner of the most prestigious law firm in Zuzu City – is looking to take on an apprentice with a guaranteed promotion to junior partner. A connection with him would open a lot of doors for me, and it would be stupid of me not to apply.” 

“Would it, now?” Klavier’s face was blank and unreadable, but his body was wound up tighter than a compressed spring. Apollo had gotten good at reading him, but for the first time since they met, he couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“I haven’t decided if I’m going to take it yet!” He was quick to add. “And I might not get an offer at all, so it might not even matter!” 

“Did you apply?” 

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I’m going to accept the job, or if I even want it–”

“But you applied?” Klavier repeated. 

Apollo’s shoulders sank. “Yeah, Klav. I applied.” 

A small laugh erupted from Klavier, seemingly without his consent, and a weary smile forced its way onto his face out of reflex. He toyed with the end of his braid. “I suppose it would be hypocritical of me not to encourage you to take it.” 

Apollo’s heart leaped into his mouth. It wasn’t surprising that Klavier was taking that stance, but it did feel like he was slipping through his fingers. 

“Klavier, you’re not listening to me.” Apollo grabbed his hands, if only so he wouldn’t have to see his nervous tics anymore. “I don’t know if I’m going to take the job yet. I don’t know if I want the job yet. I… I really like it here, and I really like the farm, but… I’ve been working my entire life towards a job opportunity like this one. It’s hard to just… throw it away when this is what I’ve been waiting for ever since I went to law school, but at the same time, I’m not ready to let go of the farm yet either. Logistically, I can’t do both, but I can’t decide which one I want more.” 

Lamiroir’s voice rang through his head. It seems you are having trouble choosing between what your heart wants and what your mind thinks you should want. 

He pushed the thought aside. He couldn’t think about his fortune right now, not when he was rapidly losing ground and Klavier was refusing to look at him. 

Klavier took a minute to think that over, his thumb grazing the back of Apollo’s hand. “So… just to make sure I understand… you are torn between this new job in Zuzu City and your life here in Stardew Valley?” 

“Right.” 

“And there is no guarantee that you will be offered this new job?” 

Apollo shook his head. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding making a decision at all. I don’t want to commit to something I might not have.” 

“And… I don’t mean to make this all about me, but considering you only brought this up because I tried to kiss you, I have to ask…. Do I not fit in with your life in Zuzu City?” 

This was the part of the conversation he was terrified of having. Klavier already looked so sad and Apollo hadn’t even said anything yet. 

“I… I just don’t see how we could make a relationship work, if I’m there and you’re here.” 

Something fractured behind Klavier’s eyes. Apollo might not have noticed if he wasn’t watching him so intently. 

His stomach churned. He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“I mean… Zuzu City is not that far away, ja?” Klavier offered, hopeful. Desperate. “I could drive a few hours, easily. I’ve done longer journeys on tour.”

“A few hours one way,” Apollo pointed out. “You can’t drive there and back everyday. It’s too much.” 

“Weekends exist.” 

“Sure, but long distance relationships only work if there’s a possibility the distance will eventually end. If I’m working with Mr. Grossberg and you’re setting roots down here… well, I just don’t think our futures would be compatible in that scenario.” 

Klavier’s grip on his hands tightened. “You could ask me to come with you.” 

“I can’t.” 

“You could.” 

“I won’t,” Apollo said firmly, putting his foot down before that idea festered. “And I’m not going to let you volunteer either. You told me yourself: you’re so much happier here than you ever were in Zuzu City, and I’d never be able to live with myself if you gave that up for me.” 

“And if I told you my happiness here was at least partially because of you?” 

Apollo’s breath hitched. “Don’t tell me that. Please don’t tell me that.” 

Klavier pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing. 

Silence filled the gap in conversation. Apollo could barely think straight from how hard his heart was pounding. They were teetering on the edge of something – something he feared they couldn’t come back from – and one wrong move would send them careening off the cliff. 

In his desperation to keep them from tumbling, Apollo blurted out, “But I don’t know if I’m even going to get the job, so it might not matter in the end! We don’t have to throw everything away just yet!” 

“With all due respect, Herr Forehead, I am not a fish that you can keep on your line until it is beneficial for you to reel me in.” 

Klavier’s sharp tone hit him like a slap to the face. 

“I am not going to follow you around like a stray puppy in hopes you might deign to keep me. I know it might not look like it, but I do have some self-respect, ja?” 

“I didn’t– I’m not–” Apollo’s cheeks burned with shame, and his shoulders dropped, the fight leaving him all at once. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Klavier was kind enough to say even though it wasn’t. 

The tension between them was thick and palpable and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Even when they were at their worst, the atmosphere had never felt like this. Apollo wanted to fix it, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know if he could. 

Apollo clung to Klavier’s hands like a lifeline, afraid what would happen if he let them go. 

“I don’t think I’m the right person to help you with your problem,” Klavier said after a while. “I know what I should do. I know I need to repay you for everything you’ve done for me, and encourage you to pursue your happiness in whatever form that takes, regardless of what everyone around you wants you to do. I know I need to encourage you to put yourself first regardless of what I want you to do. It’s just hard to do that when all I want is to beg you to stay.” 

Beg me to stay, Apollo’s mind screamed. To hell with taking things slow. Beg me to stay, and I’ll do it in an instant. 

But he knew Klavier wouldn’t. 

Apollo didn’t understand why that stupid band of his ever thought he was selfish. If anything, he wasn’t selfish enough. 

“I think… until you figure out what you want… it would probably be best to put a pin in this.” 

“Klavier….”

“I care about you so deeply, Apollo.” Klavier smiled. The carefully constructed mask Apollo had spent all year removing had snapped into place. “You mean so very much to me, but… I don’t think it’s fair to either of us to drag this out if there’s a possibility it might end before it could truly begin. Take some time to work out what you think would make you happy, and if that’s Stardew Valley, then great, and if not… well, I’ll forever mourn what we could have been.” 

The final nail was hammered into his coffin. A chapter of a book slammed shut. 

Klavier let go, and Apollo’s hands fell to his side, limp and empty. 

They didn’t speak a word to each other as the submarine resurfaced. Apollo walked Klavier back to his home where they exchanged an awkward hug on the doorstep. 

Klavier didn’t ask for a second date. Apollo didn’t either. 

Apollo made the walk back to the farm on autopilot, and robotically ran through his nightly routine. When he finally climbed into bed, bone-weary and numb, he curled up into a tight little ball, hugged Mikeko to his chest, and cried. 

Mr. Justice, 

We are delighted to inform you that you have been shortlisted for an apprenticeship at Grossberg Law Offices, and will progress to the interview stage of our application process. 

Details of what we are looking for at this stage and what will be expected of you are outlined in the attached document. Please note that while we are only planning on two rounds of interviews, a third may be arranged if necessary. 

Pending your acceptance of this email, an interview will be arranged for you in the early spring. 

We look forward to meeting you in person!

Anna Nomous

Human Resources

Grossberg Law Offices

There wasn’t much to do on the farm during the winter other than prepare for the coming season. This wouldn’t have been a problem if not for the fact that Apollo didn’t know if he was going to still be living here in the spring, and so everything he worked on felt like a pointless waste of time. However, considering his main method of dealing with his problems was to bury himself in his work and ignore them, he set about finally repairing the greenhouse for the sake of distracting himself. 

If his hands were busy, then his mind was busy, and if his mind was busy, then he couldn’t think about Trucy’s sad eyes or Klavier’s broken smile, and he definitely couldn’t think about Marvin Grossberg. 

Apollo was sick of thinking about Marvin Grossberg. 

The frame of the old greenhouse had largely remained intact, even after the glass had been smashed, but enough of the metal had warped and rusted with age that Apollo determined it would be easier to start over. Fortunately, the brick base was still sturdy enough to support a new greenhouse – he was confident in his ability to learn new skills, but laying wet concrete was beyond what he could feasibly do by himself – so he could skip straight to putting together the structure itself. 

Piecing together the frame was surprisingly easy. It wasn’t much different from building a large unwieldy bookshelf. He had strips of metal that connected to other strips of metal, and it was only a matter of screwing them together. The difficulty came from ensuring everything was perfectly straight and square – or otherwise the glass panes wouldn’t fit – but he didn’t mind it. The precise measuring required so much focus that it got him out of his head and into his body. He couldn’t afford to focus on anything but his hands and his spirit level, and that was exactly what he needed. 

Constructing the roof was less easy. He managed to fit the metal squares into the base by himself (albeit with some difficulty), but when it came time to connect the sections that made up the roof, he found himself fighting against gravity to keep them level. 

Apollo was standing on a stepladder in the middle of the foundation, desperately trying to fit the front triangle together when a voice stole his attention. 

“Need a hand?” 

Mr. Wright looked up at him from the ground, hands buried in his coat pockets. He visited the farm so rarely that he was the last person Apollo expected to see, and it wasn’t immediately obvious from looking at him why he had come this time. 

Apollo was nothing if not stubborn. “I’ve got it.” He continued to try to brute force his way through, but the metal strips kept slipping and he couldn’t hold them in place long enough to screw them together. 

Mr. Wright raised a brow. 

Apollo sighed. “Just… hold these two pieces while I put the screws in.” 

With Mr. Wright’s assistance, they got the first section of the roof frame secure. Apollo didn’t ask him to help construct the rest of the roof, but Mr. Wright wordlessly followed him anyway, and so once Apollo had moved the stepladder to secure the next section, Mr. Wright held the metal strips in place. 

The question of what he was doing here was on the tip of his tongue, but before Apollo had a chance to ask it, Mr. Wright delivered his answer. 

“For someone who claims they might be leaving soon, you’re putting a lot of work into this place.” His tone was light and conversational, but Apollo could hear the hidden question behind it. 

He groaned. Oh good. Mr. Wright wanted to have a talk. 

“So people keep telling me,” he grumbled to himself. “Trucy told you about the job offer, huh?” 

“Not at first, but once I caught her sulking in her room after the Night Market, she ended up telling me everything – including how upset she is at the prospect of you leaving.” 

One of the screws slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground with a clink. Apollo dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, guilty. “Fuck.” 

So much for avoiding his feelings. 

Mr. Wright picked up the fallen screw, and handed it back to him. “Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” 

That was a resounding no. Mr. Wright was the last person Apollo wanted to talk to about his problems – least of all the problem that was causing him to ruin the only positive relationships he had left – but when the person he wanted to talk to most in the world was gone…. 

Well, at least Mr. Wright was still alive. 

Apollo gripped the top handle of the stepladder and stared him down. “Why did you quit being a lawyer?” 

While initially taken aback at the sharp change in subject, Mr. Wright was quick on the uptake and picked up on what Apollo was really asking. “You’re not going to find the answers you’re looking for in that story.” 

Apollo’s grip on the stepladder tightened. “Humour me.” 

Mr. Wright let out a small breath of laughter, and a sardonic smirk tugged at his lips. “I didn’t quit. I was disbarred.” 

…Okay, so maybe Mr. Wright had a point. 

“WHAT?!” Apollo shrieked, scaring off a nearby crow. “How?! Why?!” 

“Does it matter?” 

“Kind of?!” 

Mr. Wright only laughed. “It’s a long story, and not one worth telling. You can look it up if you really want to know – or ask Maya. She’s had a whole rant locked and loaded for years.” He shook his head, affectionate. “But, if you’re looking for a reason to quit law yourself, then you’re asking the wrong questions.” 

Apollo huffed. He should have known Mr. Wright wasn’t going to be helpful. “Just keep holding the frame.” 

As Apollo screwed the metal strips together, he could feel Mr. Wright examining him, but what he was looking for, Apollo couldn’t begin to guess. Mr. Wright didn’t speak again until Apollo moved the stepladder to attach the next section of the roof. 

“You’re coming at this from the wrong angle. Turn your thinking around. What do you actually want to know?” 

Apollo had no desire to put up with Mr. Wright’s cryptic bullshit, but when he was desperate for guidance, for anything that might help him make a decision about his future…. “Why did you start working on the ranch?” 

“I had a young daughter to take care of, and needed a source of income after losing my badge. Working on my Grandpa’s old ranch seemed as good a job as any.” He shrugged. “Wrong question. Try again.” 

Apollo shot him a glare. Did Mr. Wright have to treat this like it was a test? Still, if he wanted answers, then he would have to play Mr. Wright’s unnecessary games. “Okay, then why did you come to Stardew Valley?”

“Ah, getting closer.” Mr. Wright smiled. “I followed someone here.” 

That caught Apollo’s interest. “Wait, really?” 

“Mhmm. Someone I deeply care about was going through a rough time. He fell in with a bad influence, and it pulled him down a path that the person I had known would have never gone down. That’s why I became a lawyer in the first place: I had big dreams about saving him.” 

“...Did you?” 

Mr. Wright shrugged. “He would say so.” 

“And you wouldn’t?” 

“...I think he saved himself. He pulled himself out of that hole he was buried in. I was just the one who showed him that climbing out would be worth it.” 

Apollo turned that story over in his head. Mr. Wright had become a lawyer for a guy. He chose a career path, based his entire future on this one person, and didn’t seem to regret it.

Apollo wanted to believe that he could do the same thing. He wanted to believe that it would be worth it to pivot his career into farming just because it made a relationship with Klavier possible, but he couldn’t bring himself to commit. What if he chose to stay for Klavier, and then Klavier broke up with him? What if he gave up his career and then things didn’t work out? After all, Mr. Wright got disbarred, and as far as he knew, he was a single father too. 

What would Apollo do then? 

“One more question.” 

“Can’t you just tell me whatever it is you want to tell me?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

Apollo rolled his eyes, but thought it over anyway. Whatever Mr. Wright wanted to say had nothing to do with his choice of occupation, past or present, but was tangentially related to his decision to move here….

“Oh!” Something clicked. “Why did you decide to stay in Stardew Valley?” 

“There you go.” Mr. Wright smiled, almost proud. “I knew you could figure it out.” 

“Why did you stay?” Apollo pressed, invested now. 

Mr. Wright set down the section of the roof frame he was holding. He gave his answer like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “The people.” 

“The people?” 

“Edgeworth is here, and so is Maya and Pearls, and Mia too, if you’re willing to count her. I could have worked anywhere, done anything. I’ve practiced law. I’ve painted theatre backdrops. I’ve played piano, dealt poker, and worked every customer service job under the sun. There’s jobs I would have happily done for the rest of my life, and there’s jobs you couldn’t pay me to do again. I didn’t stay in Stardew Valley because I suddenly developed a deep all-consuming passion for animal husbandry – I like it, but it’s not my life’s purpose. I stayed in Stardew Valley for the people.”

“The people,” Apollo muttered to himself. The wheels in his mind began to turn. 

“Maybe you’re someone who does derive a lot of happiness from their career – Edgeworth’s like that, though I’ll never understand how he can tolerate working in politics – but personally? I don’t think it’s our jobs that define us. I think, if I had to choose, I love the theatre more than I love the ranch, but I’ve never entertained the thought of going back. You know why?” 

“Because your friends are here,” Apollo answered on reflex. “Because your family’s here.” 

Mr. Wright snapped his fingers. “Now you’re getting it.” 

Apollo could understand what he was saying, but it wasn’t that easy for him. 

For starters, he didn’t have a family he could live beside. The closest he had was Nahyuta, and he was moving back to Khura’in. As much as Apollo liked having him back in his life after a childhood apart, he wasn’t willing to follow him out of the country, and after they survived being separated as kids, he was confident they could survive being separated by borders too. 

His friends were in Stardew Valley – hell, Trucy and Klavier were half the reason he was having such trouble deciding what to do in the first place – but it didn’t seem rational to give up on his career because his friends didn’t fit in with his plans for his future. He did love the farm, and fixing it up might genuinely be one of the most fulfilling things he had ever done, but being a lawyer had been his dream for so long. 

As much as the farm and the people tempted in, he was struggling to justify letting go of something he had worked so hard for. 

A successful law career was what he wanted his whole life, so it should be what he wants now… shouldn’t it? 

He couldn’t give that up for a couple of people he had known for less than a year….

Could he? 

“But… but I can’t just throw away an entire career for people who might want nothing to do with me by next winter!” 

“Why do you think they’ll want nothing to do with you by next winter?” 

The question knocked him off-kilter. Why did he assume all of his friends were going to leave him? Both Trucy and Klavier made it more than clear that they wanted him to stick around. Neither of them had any intention of going anywhere. 

But, then again, neither had Clay. 

“I… I don’t know.” 

Mr. Wright leaned on the greenhouse frame and scanned him head to toe. 

There was something about the way Mr. Wright looked at people that made Apollo feel like he could see every secret locked away inside his heart. There were so many things Apollo didn’t tell him and many more he didn’t want him to know, and yet, he had the sinking feeling that Mr. Wright somehow learned all of them anyway.  

“Here’s a little poker tip for you, Apollo,” Mr. Wright said apropos of nothing. “Nobody has ever won a hand by playing it safe. If you want the pot, then you have to be willing to risk a few chips. Understand?” 

“Not even a little bit.” 

“You will. Just think about it.” Mr. Wright clapped him on the shoulder. “In the meantime… how about we get this roof up?” 

For a moment, Apollo thought that was the end of it. Mr. Wright was going to leave him with a couple of vague personal stories and an obtuse poker analogy, and pat himself on the back for a job well done. However, once they had finally fitted the last of the greenhouse frames in place and Apollo was about to begin on the door, Mr. Wright grabbed his attention again. 

“You know, sometimes I think Stardew Valley is a magnet for broken people.” 

Apollo looked up from the instructions that came with the greenhouse kit. “Huh?” 

“Everyone here has a story. Deceased parents, family in prison, failed careers – if you can name it, then it’s happened to someone in this town. Doesn’t matter if they’ve lived here their entire lives, or if they came from somewhere else: everyone here is carrying something on their shoulders.”

Mr. Wright’s gaze was piercing. Apollo, not for the first time, wondered what he saw. 

“I’m not going to ask you what your story is. It’s none of my business. I guarantee though that somebody here has gone through the same thing, and understands exactly what you’ve been through.” He reached into the pocket of his pants, pulled something out, and pressed it into the palm of Apollo’s hand. “A lot of people here managed to build something out of nothing, managed to build a family out of nothing. You could too, if that’s what you wanted.” 

In his hand was a blue chip with 2 years sober printed on it in gold lettering. 

Apollo squeezed it tightly in his palm. “Mr. Wright… why are you telling me all of this?” 

“Because I don’t like seeing my daughter sad.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes. Great, so Mr. Wright was only here because of Trucy, not because he cared what happened to him one way or the other. 

Still, even so, his words stuck with him. 

Even before Mr. Wright had pointed it out, Apollo had noticed there were a lot of people in town who, like him, didn’t have any (living) blood relations. Yet in spite of that, they all had someone they could call family. Athena had Blackquill. Kay had Mr. Edgeworth. The Wrights had the Feys. 

Apollo used to have someone like that too. He wondered if it was really possible for him to have someone like that again – someone who, this time, wouldn’t leave him behind. 

As Mr. Wright pocketed the chip and started prattling on about how they were going to attach the door to the rest of the metal frame, all Apollo could think about was this: 

With Nahyuta moving to Khura’in, who in Zuzu City would help him build a greenhouse?

On the anniversary of Clay’s death, Apollo put on his old court suit, slipped a picture of the two of them into his winter coat pocket, and headed into the woods to visit Fey Tower. 

Maya and Pearl led him through a trapdoor into the basement. The Channelling Room, as they called it, was a large open space filled with countless candles. On one end of the room stood an ancient folded screen covered in katakana, and a low table with a mirror-like object and a few branches tied together with twine. 

Maya instructed him to kneel on one of the zabuton cushions on the floor while she took the other. As she described the process of spirit channeling and what Apollo should expect, Pearl went through the arduous process of systematically lighting all the candles. 

“The biggest thing you should know going in is that spirits don’t have memories of their time beyond the veil,” Maya explained. “That means that the last thing your friend is going to remember, assuming he hasn’t been channeled before, is the day he died. Spirits intuitively know they’re spirits so you won’t have to explain that part, and they’re usually pretty chill about the whole thing – more than you’d expect, anyway – but he’s probably going to be a little disoriented, so be prepared to talk him through it. We’re not expecting this to be necessary for this particular channeling, but if he does freak out to the point of getting hostile, yell for Pearly and she’ll handle it.” 

“It is traditional that only the medium and the client are present for channelings,” Pearl added as she lit the final candle, “but I will be waiting outside the door in case you need any help!” 

“Again, we’re not expecting anything to happen and your friend will be fine; we just need to explain all of this for health and safety reasons. You were a lawyer. You get it.” 

“Right,” Apollo nodded, shifting uncomfortably. 

Truthfully, he still wasn’t entirely convinced that any of this was possible. He was only giving it a shot because Mr. Wright had assured him that the Feys’ abilities were real when he offhandedly asked him about it, and Mr. Wright didn’t seem like the type to believe in the supernatural otherwise. 

Still, he hoped this process wasn’t going to be hard on Clay. Apollo didn’t want to upset him. 

“Now. Do you have a picture?” Maya asked. 

Apollo reached into his pocket and handed her the framed photo he brought with him. It was a favourite of his, one they had taken to commemorate Clay’s first day as an astronaut. They posed outside the main entrance of the GYAXA space center – Apollo in his court suit, Clay in his official staff jacket – with an arm slung over the other’s shoulders. 

“Aww, look at the two of you!” Maya cooed. “I bet you were as thick as thieves!” 

“Yeah,” was all Apollo managed to say. 

Maya only smiled. “Clay Terran, right? He looks like a fun guy.” 

“Yeah,” Apollo swallowed, “he was.” 

Maya studied the picture for a few moments, and muttered Clay’s name under her breath as if committing them both to memory. When she was done, she handed the picture back and Apollo tucked it safely into his pocket. 

“I think that’s everything,” Maya said, looking over to Pearl, “right?” 

Pearl nodded. “Yes, Mystic Maya.” 

“Then in that case… I think it’s time.” 

A spike of nerves suddenly shot through him. 

“Pearly, if you will….” 

“Of course.” Pearl bowed to each of them in turn. “Good luck, Mr. Apollo! I hope this brings you some peace of mind.” 

With that, Pearl ascended up the ladder out of the basement, and shut the trapdoor behind her, leaving them completely alone.

The room was eerily silent. The plethora of candles cast them in a warm orange glow. Apollo rested his fists on his knees, and his fingernails dug sharply into his palms. 

“What happens now?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Now, we begin the channeling.” Maya clasped her hands together. “I recommend closing your eyes for this part. You don’t want to see the transformation, trust me.” 

Apollo did as he was told. “How do I know when to open them?” 

“You’ll know,” Maya said vaguely. She truly was a close of friend of Mr. Wright’s. “Now, clear your mind. Relax the body. Open your heart and soul. This will only take a minute.” 

Apollo waited.

And waited. 

And waited some more. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly was supposed to happen. Maya had explained that spirit channeling, on her end, was not unlike meditation. She didn’t speak a word or move a muscle, still and silent as a statue. Part of him wanted to open his eyes just to make sure she hadn’t left, but he didn’t want to risk even that much in case it disrupted the process and harmed either her or Clay. 

Even so, the anticipation was killing him. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had to concentrate on keeping his breaths slow and even. A shiver ran down his spine, and he couldn’t tell if it was nerves or from the sudden chill in the room. 

I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine. He repeated the mantra over and over in his mind. I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine. I’m Apollo Justice and I’m fine. I’m Apollo Justice and I’m–

“‘Pollo?” 

His eyes snapped open. His heart dropped. 

In front of him, on his knees on a zabuton cushion, was someone who shouldn’t have been alive. He was wearing Maya’s clothes, and he had Maya’s hair, but Apollo would have recognised those brown eyes and that crooked nose anywhere. 

“Clay?” He choked out, welling up with tears. 

Clay smiled, goofy and lopsided. 

“Hey, ‘Pollo. Miss me?” 

Something inside him broke. 

Apollo launched himself across the room, hitting Clay with such force that he almost knocked him onto his back. His entire body trembled, even when Clay laid a firm hand on his back to steady him, and he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening. It didn’t feel real. It shouldn’t have been possible. 

Apollo had sat by his hospital bedside for days. He had been to his funeral, and visited his grave. He had called Clay’s old phone and listened to his voicemail message over and over until the phone company eventually disconnected the number. 

Apollo thought he was never going to see him again, and yet, against all known laws of the universe, here they were. 

“It’s okay, ‘Pollo,” Clay said softly. “It’s only me.” 

It’s only me, he said, as if his death hadn’t changed the trajectory of Apollo’s entire life. 

Once Apollo managed to calm himself down, he extracted himself from Clay’s arms, and returned to his seat on his own zabuton cushion. He had come prepared with an entire packet of tissues in his coat pocket, but he feared at this rate, he was going to burn through them all. 

Clay watched him closely, his own eyes red rimmed. Apollo hadn’t noticed he had been crying too. “You good?” 

“Yeah.” Apollo wiped away the lingering tears. “I’m good.” 

Clay didn’t ask him what was wrong. It wasn’t difficult to guess. 

Belatedly, Apollo remembered what Maya had told him before they began the channeling, and he internally chastised himself for losing it when he should have been comforting Clay. “How are you feeling though? About… you know….” 

“Dying?” 

“I meant about being back, but… yeah, that too.” 

Clay shrugged. “I don’t know. Weird?” He let out a weak, wet laugh. “I mean… I don’t fully understand what’s happening right now, but this isn’t my body, right?” 

Apollo shook his head. “No, your spirit is being channeled right now. You’re basically possessing my neighbour’s body.” 

He did look like Clay though, with his broad shoulders and strong hands. If it wasn’t for the hair and the clothes, Apollo would have readily believed that Clay had never died at all. 

“Cool.” Clay grinned for a second, but soon returned to a more somber mood. He examined his – Maya’s? – arms. “But yeah, it feels like my body, and it looks like my body, but there’s also this feeling of like… knowing this body doesn’t belong to me. It’s weird.” 

“Very,” Apollo agreed. “And… how do you feel about… the other thing?” 

Clay smiled sadly, and lifted his shoulders as if to say ‘well, what can you do?’ “No point freaking out about something I can’t change, right?” 

“You’re allowed to be scared.” 

“Sure, but only one of us is allowed to freak out at a time, and you’ve already got that covered.” 

He was clearly deflecting, but Apollo was so overcome with emotion at seeing Clay again that he was willing to let it slide, just this once. “Sorry for being glad to see you, asshole.” 

Clay laughed. “Hey, I’m glad to see you too!” He unfolded his legs just so he could lightly kick at Apollo’s thigh. “I just… wasn’t expecting you to be so upset about it. Has it… been a long time?” 

Apollo’s expression softened. “It’s been a year.” 

“Oh.” 

“To the date.” 

“Oh.” 

Realisation dawned on Clay’s face. He reached for leather bracelets that weren’t there, and, upon remembering he wasn’t wearing his own clothes, played with the cuff of Maya’s sleeve instead. 

It was hitting Clay how much time had passed without him, Apollo surmised, but he didn’t ask if he was okay. Given how this interaction was going so far, he didn’t think Clay would have given him a straight answer – not after Apollo had cried all over him. Instead, he kept quiet and let Clay move the conversation at his own pace. 

“A year is a long time,” he said softly. 

“It is.” 

“A lot can happen in a year.” 

Apollo almost smiled. “You have no idea.”

Clay was silent for a moment, processing. “...Why now?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Why did you wait a year to do this? Not that I expected you to summon me sooner or anything! No time has passed at all for me so it's literally fine if you couldn't do this until now, I'm just… trying to understand what's going on.” Clay frowned, and his brows furrowed in worry. “Are you doing okay, ‘Pollo?” 

It shouldn’t have been surprising that Clay figured him out so quickly, but it was so familiar, so nostalgic, that it knocked him off his proverbial feet regardless. He forgot what it was like to be around someone who knew him better than he knew himself. 

Apollo didn’t bother trying to deny it. “It’s been… a rough year.”

“What happened?” Clay winced. “Wait. Stupid question. Let me rephrase that…. What else happened? What happened after I-... you know….”

When Apollo decided he was going to try spirit channeling, he made a list of everything he wanted to tell Clay. He rehearsed what he was going to say and the order he wanted to say it in. There was so much ground they needed to cover, and when he couldn’t be certain they would have an opportunity like this again, he didn’t want to risk forgetting anything. 

Now that he was here and Clay, unbelievably, was sitting cross-legged in front of him, he didn’t know where to begin. 

“I… A lot of stuff happened.” Apollo rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t actually live in our apartment anymore.” 

Clay nodded. “That makes sense. You never would have been able to afford our full rent with all those pro-bono cases Mr. Fender has you doing.” 

“Yeah, and that’s the other thing: I don’t work for Mr. Fender right now either.”

“...Because you got a better, higher paying job?” Clay offered hopefully. 

“No, Clay. Because… because I couldn’t be in that city anymore.” Apollo’s shoulders slumped. He could feel the tears prickling at his eyes again, but he fruitlessly blinked them back. “I couldn’t be in that– that empty apartment anymore when I kept thinking you’d turn the corner or walk in the door, but no matter how long I waited, you never came. I couldn’t keep working murder cases when all I could see at those crime scenes was you. I couldn't do that job after you were–....” 

Clay’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t– Was I?”

“No! No, nothing like that!” Apollo was quick to correct him. “What happened to you was an accident! There was a malfunction with the– the rocket part?”

“The propulsion system?” 

“I think so? Look, all I know is something broke when you were doing the pre-flight checks, and there was a fire, and then… well….” 

“Right.” Clay’s hands started fidgeting as if they had gained a mind of their own and refused to keep still. 

“But the point is that I couldn’t work that job anymore in that city anymore, and I just– I had to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Do you remember that farm I told you about a long time ago? The one Dhurke left me and Nahyuta?” 

“The one you said you didn’t want?” 

Apollo swallowed. “Yeah, that’s the one. I live in Stardew Valley now.” 

“Right.” 

The air in the room was surprisingly tense. Clay was tapping his fingers on his legs over and over again with no discernible rhythm, and glaring down at the floor, jaw clenched. 

He looked mad, almost, but Apollo couldn’t understand what he could possibly be mad about. Apollo hadn't said something that angered him… had he? 

Just as he was about to ask, Clay buried his face in his hands. “Shit, ‘Pollo. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” 

Apollo’s stomach dropped. “NO! No, it’s not! Don’t you dare blame yourself!” 

“But– but you threw away your whole entire life because of me.” 

“You died, Clay. I’m not going to let you apologise to me for dying.” 

“But–”

“No buts.” Apollo shuffled across the floor, and pulled him into a hug. “It was an accident. You couldn’t have prevented what happened any more than I could have. Mr. Starbuck told me that nobody could have foreseen that fire. It was a tragedy, plain and simple, and nobody – and especially not you – was at fault.” 

Clay leaned into Apollo’s touch, wrapping his arms around him. “Still. I’m sorry.” 

Apollo had long realised that skipping town was not the healthiest method of dealing with his problems – Nahyuta had made that more than clear ten times over – but it didn’t fully sink in how dramatic that decision was until he had seen Clay’s reaction. It was only with the benefit of hindsight that he could now see how deeply his best friend’s death had affected him – a death he would likely carry with him for the rest of his life. 

He couldn’t pretend the loss wasn’t why he moved away when they both knew the old Apollo would have never quit law for anything, but maybe, if he approached this from another angle, he could still put a positive spin on it. 

“...I know this is probably hard to believe, but… I actually like living on the farm.” 

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Clay mumbled into his shoulder. 

“I’m not! I really do like it! Here, let me show you.” Apollo pulled away from Clay and took out his phone. 

In preparation for the channeling, he had put together an album of all the photos he had taken of the farm over the past year – everything from the first batch of turnips he had ever grown to the sprawling field of wheat he planted last season. He showed him the coop, the barn, the greenhouse, and as many pictures of Mikeko he could justify including (and even then, he had a separate album of more just in case Clay wanted to see them). 

“Are those chickens?” Clay perked up, snatching the phone out of Apollo’s hand so he could zoom in on them. “Is El Pollo real?” 

Apollo nodded. “I couldn’t resist raising a few after how much we used to joke about them. I have eight of them now.” 

“Do they have names?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t name them.” 

Clay grinned. “Oh, they must be embarrassing if you’re pre-emptively defending yourself. What are they called?” 

Apollo sighed. “Well, the first two I got were Henrietta and Eggatha.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“And then there’s Shellby, Beaktrice, Chicktherine, Feather – which is supposed to be a pun on Heather, but I don’t think it counts if it’s an entirely different word.” 

“Of course you don’t.”

“And then the blue one is Bluethany and the black one is Voidvian.” 

By the time Apollo got through the list, Clay was cackling. Maybe, if things were different, he would have been embarrassed at being teased so openly, but it had been so long since he heard Clay laugh like that, he couldn’t bring himself to care. It warmed his heart as much as it pained it. 

“Those are so good,” Clay said when he eventually calmed down enough to speak. “This feels right. This is the natural evolution of the chicken jokes.” 

“I figured you’d like them.” 

“Yeah.” He smiled sadly at the picture. “I wish I could have been around for your chicken era.” 

Apollo matched his expression. “Yeah, me too.” 

Clay stared at the chickens for another long moment before cycling through the rest of the pictures of the coop until he landed on one of Trucy standing in the middle of the flock, holding a bucket of seed out of their reach. It was from the period she had taken over feeding duties while his wrist was broken, if he remembered correctly. 

“Who’s the kid?” 

“That’s Trucy, and she’s not a kid. She’s seventeen. She’s just tiny and has a baby face.” 

“Oh, like you!” Clay playfully poked him in the cheek. 

“Shut up.” Apollo smacked his hand away with a glare. “Anyway, she lives next door, and is the one who named all the chickens. She’s… a really good friend.” 

“Ah, my replacement.” 

“No! I would never replace you!” Apollo was so offended at the mere thought that he jumped on the defensive before he fully processed that Clay was only joking. 

“I know, ‘Pollo. I’m just messing with you.” He bumped against his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re making friends though. I worry about you sometimes.” 

“I can make friends.” 

“Sure, but if I didn’t drag you out of the apartment every now and again, you would have spent all your time holed up in your room reading case files, so I’m glad you’re not isolating yourself out here.” 

He decided not to tell Clay about how he had developed an almost debilitating fear of losing his loved ones after his death. 

“...To be honest, the only reason Trucy and I are friends in the first place is because she decided we were going to be on the first day we met. She just sort of adopted me. I didn’t really have a say in it,” Apollo admitted. “Hell, the only reason I have a social life at all is because she insisted I go to all of the local festivals and stuff. She’s… she’s a really good friend.” 

He didn’t tell Trucy that enough. The next time he saw her, he was going to sit her down and explain exactly how much she meant to him. She deserved that much and more. 

“She sounds like it,” Clay mused. “I approve of her as my replacement.” 

“She’s not your replacement,” Apollo stressed, “but… I think she’d be honoured.” 

Clay flicked through the rest of the album, asking probing questions and making little jokes here and there about Apollo’s new lifestyle as he went. 

It was only a matter of time before he found a picture of Apollo’s other new friend. 

“Who’s the hot blonde?” 

Clay zoomed in on an image of Klavier hoeing one of the vegetable patches, and the cogs in his head began to turn. He squinted at the screen as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. 

Apollo mentally braced himself for what was sure to be a very loud conversation. 

“Wait… is that…!” Clay’s jaw dropped, and he turned to Apollo with eyes as wide as flying saucers. “Is that Klavier Gavin?! Why is Klavier Gavin working on your farm?!”

“Yeah, about that….” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “He’s been living in Stardew Valley since his band broke up. We got to talking, and we’re friends now?” 

“WHAT?!” Clay shrieked, dropping the phone in his shock. 

“Yeah, I broke my wrist over the summer, and he visited me at the doctor’s office and offered to help on the farm until it healed.”

“WHAT?!” 

“To be honest, I think he only offered because he had a crush on me. He’s really nice though, so maybe he would have done it anyway.” 

With how openly he was gaping, Apollo was worried Clay’s eyes were going to bug out of his head. He hadn’t even told him about the date yet. 

Clay picked up the phone and looked at the picture again as if to reassure himself it was real. “Apollo Jove Justice. I swear if you’re fucking with me….”

“I’m not fucking with you! Look, I have more photos.” 

Apollo took his phone back and navigated to a different album dedicated solely to pictures of Klavier. Most of them were ones he had taken himself – of Klavier on the farm, on the beach, on the pier – but he had sprinkled in a few photos that Trucy had sent him over the past couple seasons as well. 

Apollo showing Klavier how to chop wood. The two of them laughing together over a burger and fries. Klavier grabbing his hand and dragging him through the Night Market, looking back at Apollo over his shoulder with enough love to power a small town. 

It was hard to look at these pictures now that Klavier had ended everything, and Apollo, not for the first time, cursed himself out for fucking it all up. 

Clay took particular interest in that final photo. “I can’t believe, after everything you’ve ever said about the Gavinners, you went on a date with Klavier Gavin.” 

“For the record, I still hate the Gavinners. I just like Klavier.” 

“‘Klavier’.” Clay laughed, almost hysterical. “You’re on a first name basis with Klavier Gavin. I leave you alone for two seconds and you go and bag yourself a celebrity boyfriend. Did you know he was shortlisted for sexiest man of the year two years ago? ‘Pollo, did you even know that?” 

Apollo shrugged. “I don’t like to read articles about him. I’ve had a few run-ins with the people who write them, and they’re all assholes.” He was still pissed off about the stalking incident. 

“This is crazy.” Clay shook his head. “You have a whole life here – a house, a job, a rockstar boyfriend, everything.” 

“Again, he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve only been on one date.” 

Not to mention that Klavier wasn’t speaking to him at all right now. Apollo would be lucky if Klavier ever spoke to him again. 

“Still. I just….” Clay’s smile faded. His posture wilted. “I just wish you didn’t have to start your whole life over.“

“Clay–”

“I know, I know, I shouldn’t blame myself. It’s just… you’ve experienced so much tragedy your whole life. You’ve lost so many people, and I kind of hate myself for being another person you’ve lost.” 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Apollo emphasised, and would continue to emphasise as many times as he needed until Clay got it. 

“I know, but please, be honest with me for a sec.” Clay turned to face him, an uncharacteristically serious look on his face. “Are you happy?” 

Apollo blinked. “What?” 

“Are you happy on the farm? And living in Stardew Valley?” 

Apollo didn’t know how to answer that. He’d be lying if he said that wanting to talk to Clay about his ongoing crisis wasn’t partially why he had come here today, but he knew he should say yes if only to give him some peace of mind. The problem was that he had never been able to keep secrets from Clay, and he missed him so damn much that he couldn’t bring himself to start now. 

“I… I don’t know,” he said quietly. 

Sensing he had accidentally struck a nerve, Clay instantly flipped into worried best friend mode. “Why? What’s going on?” 

Apollo couldn’t keep it in any longer. It all came spilling out. 

He told him about everything he had been wrestling with ever since he moved to Stardew Valley – how the farm started as a means to distract himself from his grief but became one of the most fulfilling things he had ever done; how the move was only supposed to be temporary, but then he made friends and found a community he feared he no longer had back in Zuzu City; how he was recently presented with a job opportunity that would skyrocket his law career if he got it, but was having doubts that it was the right move for his future. 

“I just… I’ve wanted to be a lawyer my whole life. I dreamed of getting an interview for a job like this. It should be a no-brainer for me, but… I really really love the farm. I don’t think I’ve ever been this proud of a project… ever. I don’t want to just throw it all away because this other job came along. Plus my friends live here, and I know moving doesn’t mean we can’t be friends anymore, but it’s still going to be hard leaving them behind – especially when I won’t have anyone in the city now that you’re gone and Nahyuta is moving away. It feels like a mistake to turn down the interview when I’ve worked so hard to get it, but I also don’t want to sell the farm, and I don’t want to break up with Klavier, and I just… I don’t know what to do.” 

Clay let him talk, only interrupting here and there to ask a few clarifying questions. He sat back, hand under his chin as he ruminated on everything Apollo had told him. When they were kids, Apollo used to make fun of him for posing like The Thinker when he was deep in thought. 

“Okay. Explain it to me again: why exactly do you want the law job?” 

Apollo didn’t think this would be the part Clay had trouble with. “Because it’s what I’ve been working towards my whole life. My dream was to be a defense attorney. You know this.”

“Sure, that was your dream when we were kids, but is it still your dream now?” 

“I– what?” 

“‘Pollo, look. As much as it pains me to say, you are not the same person I used to know.” 

“Yes, I am!” 

“No, you’re not. You’re different, but not necessarily in a bad way.” Clay smiled wearily. “This past year has changed you. The Apollo I knew would’ve accepted that interview without a second thought, and there are still shades of that Apollo still in there. I still see that fire in your eyes you get when you’re passionate about something. The difference now is that I see it when you’re talking about the farm and your friends, but not when you talk about this law job. It sounds to me like farming is what you actually want to do, but practising law is what you think you have to do.” 

“But I am still passionate about the law!” Apollo argued. “I don’t love it any less just because I’ve been doing something else for a while!” 

“I get that. All I’m saying is that you talk about this law job like it’s an obligation. I don’t think you actually want it.” 

“But this is what I’ve been working towards my whole life!”

Clay let out an overdramatic sigh. “Another victim of the sunk cost fallacy. You hate to see it.” 

Apollo instinctively opened his mouth to argue further, but promptly shut it when he realised Clay was right. 

That was the problem, wasn’t it? He had sunk so much time into cultivating a law career that he was having trouble letting go and moving on to something entirely different, even when that something was a life that brought him genuine happiness. The job would have been good for his law career, sure, but he resented it for pulling him away from something he wanted more. 

“Oh.” 

“You get it now?” Clay asked, amused. 

“I… I guess. Do you really think I should commit to the farm?”

“Sure, if that’s what makes you happy.” Clay shrugged. “Besides, you don’t have to do this for the rest of your life. If you want to return to law later, you can literally do that. There will be other law jobs. Maybe there will even be law jobs in Stardew Valley, who knows? But if this is what’s making you happy right now, then I don’t see why you should give it up.” 

“What if it doesn’t work out?” 

“What if it does?” Clay fired back. “Remember what my Dad always used to tell us? Shoot for the moon, because even if you miss, you’ll land amongst the stars.”

Mr. Wright’s voice came to him unbidden. Nobody has ever won a hand by playing it safe.

Apollo imagined a little law office tucked into the corner of Pelican Town’s square, and of a former rockstar sitting with his heeled boots on the desk, eating blueberries and reading case files. Justice Law Offices, he had jokingly called it, but maybe, one day, if things went well, they could land on something similar. 

Gavin & Justice Law Offices had a nice ring to it, he thought. 

“Huh.”

“Take it from the dead guy, ‘Pollo: there’s a lot more to life than work.” Clay smiled wearily. “You know, when I was alive, I really thought the worst thing that could happen to me was that the HAT-2 mission would get cancelled and I wouldn’t get to go to space, but no, it turns out there’s something worse.” He laughed, sad and wet. “It’s killing me that I can’t be around to see you live your new life.” 

Apollo’s heart snapped in two. “Clay….”

“Your friends are what’s important, ‘Pollo. Don’t take them for granted. Hang out with Trucy. Make out with Klavier Fucking Gavin. Just… don’t throw all that away for some job, because honestly? Right now, if I could live one more day, but I had to choose between walking on the moon and watching bad horror movies with my best friend? I’d pick you every time.” 

Whatever dam he had built to keep his tears at bay promptly broke. 

Apollo threw himself at Clay, and clung to him with everything he had. “I’m going to miss you so much. I don’t know what I’m going to do without you.” 

“You’ll be fine. You’re already fine.” Clay wrapped his arms around him and held him just as tightly. “You’ve already built a whole life without me.” 

“It’s not the same.” 

“I know.” Clay squeezed him. “I’m going to miss you too.”

Losing Clay was one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. Saying goodbye to him at the end of the spirit channeling was one of the hardest things he ever had to do. Apollo would have spent his entire life in that basement if he could, but it wasn’t fair to Maya to keep her body hostage, and it wasn’t fair to himself to keep living in the past. 

Clay would always be his best friend. No matter what happened or how many more friends he made, that title would always belong to him. 

…But maybe it was time he made some new memories too. 

By the time he left Fey Tower, night had fallen. Apollo stopped at the base of the steps and looked up at the full moon, ripped open and raw. 

“Goodbye, Clay,” he said softly. “Thanks for everything.” 

He stood there for a long moment, basking in the starlight, before eventually ducking his head and making the walk back to the farm. The moon followed him the whole way home.

The Feast of the Winter Star was the final festival of the season, and marked the end of the previous year and ushered in the next one. It wasn’t a holiday that Apollo typically cared to celebrate – the emphasis on family was tough for a kid who grew up in foster homes – but he was determined that this year would be different. 

Several long tables had been set up in the town square around the giant Winter Star tree. Local families from all over the valley gathered around for a traditional feast prepared, as always, by the Kitaki family. 

Athena and Blackquill were sitting with Juniper and her grandmother. Trucy and Mr. Wright were joined by the Fey cousins and Mr. Edgeworth. The Kitakis themselves were deservedly enjoying the fruits of their labour, and Apollo made a mental note to gift them a fruit basket to thank them for all they'd done for the community this past year. 

Apollo did a quick scan of the area for Klavier – only to make sure he wasn't spending the day alone – and was relieved to see him with Kay and Ema, eating roast turkey and laughing at something Kay had said. 

A stab of longing pierced his chest. 

Soon, he promised himself. Get through dinner and the gift exchange first, and then you can make things right. 

Apollo opted to join Datz for the feast. His conversation with Clay had put a lot of things in perspective for him, and he felt bad for not doing more to connect with Datz this past year. He had helped raise him for a time, and while it was more complicated now, he would have readily called him family once. Apollo had neglected their relationship for too long. Winter Star, he had decided, was going to be a day of making amends, and this was as good a place to start as any. 

As they ate, they talked idly about the farm, but there was one question that had been eating at him for a while. 

“Why did Dhurke move to the farm anyway?” 

“Oh, you didn’t know about that?” Datz asked, surprised. Apollo couldn’t blame him. It startled him to realise he didn’t know too. “It was because Amara ‘died’.” 

Apollo almost dropped his fork. “Wait, really?” 

“Yep. It hit him really hard. He packed up all of your and Yuty’s things, and flew all the way out here – mostly to escape Gar’an since she blamed the fire on him, but I think he felt he needed a fresh start too. ‘Course, Amara didn’t actually die, but we didn’t know that at the time. Then he had to move to the city eventually because the farm barely made enough money to support you kids, and then he got sick and the medical bills started piling up, and… well, you know what happened next.” Datz smiled sadly to himself. “He did love the farm though. I think he would’ve spent the rest of his life there if he could’ve, but at the end of the day, he loved you and Yuty more.” 

All Apollo could do was laugh. 

All year, Datz had been joking about how Apollo had been following in his father’s footsteps, but neither of them had known how true that was. He wished he could have talked to Dhurke about it. Maybe one day, if Maya was amenable, he still could. 

Until then, however….

“Will you tell me about him?”

Datz grinned and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “AJ, it would be my honour.” 

As filling as the feast was, however, the real draw of Winter Star was the gift exchange. 

Every year, residents in Stardew Valley were privately given the name of another resident to give a gift to after the feast. Apollo wasn’t sure how Mr. Edgeworth paired residents, but he suspected it wasn’t entirely random when the name he received was someone very special to him indeed. 

Apollo was looking for them in the town square, two gift bags looped around his wrist, when said someone found him first. 

“Happy Winter Star, Polly!” Trucy hugged him from behind. 

After their argument at the Night Market, she had pivoted from trying to convince him to stay to pretending he wasn’t thinking about moving away at all. That was fine by Apollo. He had been more than happy to leave that particular elephant unacknowledged, but now that he had finally made a decision, it was time to lay her fears to rest. 

“Happy Winter Star, Trucy.” Unable to twist around to hug her properly, he patted her on the hand. “Are you having a good day so far?” 

“Yep! I just gave Mr. Edgeworth his present!” She released him, allowing Apollo to turn around and face her properly. “I knitted him a hat and scarf to match Daddy’s. He cried.” 

Sure enough, when Apollo looked back at their table, Mr. Edgeworth was wearing a woolen beanie and scarf. He had pulled the latter up over his mouth, but even from here, Apollo could see his glassy eyes. Mr. Wright was grinning next to him and quietly whispering something into his ear. 

It was a sweet gesture, but there was something he didn’t quite understand. 

“You knitted Mr. Edgeworth a hat with ‘Papa’ written on it?” 

“I’m trying to drop a hint that he should propose to Daddy soon!” Trucy winked. “It’s been like five years. He’s taking forever.” 

On one hand, Apollo was glad she moved on from meddling in his relationship with Klavier to meddling in Mr. Edgeworth’s relationship with her father, but on the other….

“Mr. Edgeworth and Mr. Wright are together?!” Apollo’s jaw dropped. He barely managed to keep his voice at a relatively normal volume. “Since when?!” 

Trucy frowned. “Since five years ago? Wait, did you not know that?” 

“No, I didn’t know that! You never told me!” 

“I thought it was obvious!” 

“They don’t live together!” 

“Only because they can’t make up their minds! Daddy thinks it makes more sense if Mr. Edgeworth moves in with us so he can be closer to the ranch, but Mr. Edgeworth insists we should live with him because his house is bigger. It’s a whole thing.” She rolled her eyes exasperated as if this was an argument she had heard a thousand times. 

Now that Apollo was seeing them in a new light, he supposed Mr. Wright was sitting far closer to Mr. Edgeworth than anyone else would have been allowed. He did, however, maintain it wasn’t ‘obvious’ when they didn’t live together or engage in any sort of PDA. They exclusively called each other by their surnames for crying out loud. How was he supposed to know? 

Wait. 

Was Mr. Edgeworth the guy Mr. Wright became a lawyer for?! 

“Anyway, enough about them.” Trucy waved a hand. “Have you got your gift yet?” 

Apollo let her peek into one of the gift bags. “Mr. Gumshoe gave me one of those ‘home sweet home’ signs. I think he made it himself.”

Trucy’s expression flickered for a second, but she quickly plastered on a performer’s smile. It hurt to see, but he knew it wouldn’t be long until she was smiling genuinely again. 

“That was nice of him. Who did you get?” 

“Guess.” 

Trucy made a show of tapping her chin in thought. “Is it… me?” 

Apollo only smiled. 

“Wait, is it really me?” Trucy perked up. She made a grab for the gift bag, and he had to quickly lift it above her head before she saw something she wasn’t supposed to yet. 

“Hey, careful! It’s fragile!” 

“What did you get me? What did you get me? What did you get me?” She bounced on her feet excitedly. 

“Two things – one you can keep, and one you have to give back.” 

“Polly, I don’t think you understand how presents work.” 

“Shush, it’ll make sense in a minute. Let me explain. I’m trying to do something here.” When Trucy settled down, Apollo reached into the bag for the first half of her gift. “I don’t know if you remember, but when we first met, you told me you had always wanted one of these.” 

Carefully, he lifted out a small venus fly trap potted plant. It had been hell trying to source one during the winter when they only grew during the warmer seasons, but with a little help from Juniper, he managed to find someone in the desert willing to sell him one. The mouths were closed and wilted as the plant laid dormant, but he was confident that with special care, they would open and blossom come spring. 

Trucy gasped and took the pot. “Oh, I forgot about that! It looks so cute!” She gently poked at the leaves. 

“Apparently venus fly traps don’t fare well in the winter, so you’ll have to keep a close eye on it. Keep it at a window that gets a lot of natural light – somewhere bright and warm.” 

“I know just the place! Thanks, Polly!” She pulled him in for a one-armed hug. “I take it this is the one I get to keep then?” 

“Exactly. The other part is very special to me so you’ll have to give it back, but I think you’re going to like it just as much.” 

Apollo lifted the other item out of the gift bag – the deed to the farm, neatly framed – and held it up for Trucy to see. She read the text over and over, brow furrowed in confusion over what she was looking at and why.

“Polly…?” 

“Obviously, I'm not giving you ownership of the farm – you're not old enough to own land anyway. It's just symbolic.” 

“Symbolic of what?” 

“I talked to Nahyuta recently. He agreed to sign over his half of the farm to me. Everything's shut down right now because of the holidays and there's a lot of legal red tape we still need to get through before it's official, but very soon, the farm is going to legally belong to me. All of it.” 

Trucy was clever; he knew she could figure it out without any prompting from him, and it was amusing watching her slowly put the pieces together. Her eyes widened, and she looked at him, at the deed, and then back at him again. Her pupils darted all over his face as if she couldn't quite believe what was happening and needed to make sure he wasn't tricking her. 

“Does this mean what I think it means…?” 

“Yes, Truce.” He couldn't hold back his smile any longer. “I'm staying.” 

Trucy tackled him, hitting his chest so hard it winded him. Apollo wrapped his free arm around her, holding her close. “You’re staying? You’re really staying?” 

Apollo laughed. “Yes, I’m really staying.” 

“But what about that job you wanted?” 

“I turned it down. Someone really special helped me realise there are some things more important than a job. Maybe one day in the future, I might return to law, but for now, I think I need to be where my friends are.” 

Trucy squeezed him even tighter. Apollo worried she was never going to let go of him again – not that he particularly minded. With Trucy clinging to him like a baby koala, he had to wonder why he ever considered leaving in the first place. 

“Listen, Trucy, there’s something I have to tell you.” Apollo put the deed back in the gift bag and set it down on the ground out of the way. It was a little awkward with Trucy still wrapped around his midsection, but he managed. “I was in a really bad place when I first moved here. I’d just lost my best friend, and I was so scared of losing anyone else that I was determined to spend the rest of my life alone. I’d probably still be hiding on the farm if you hadn’t insisted on hanging out with me, or encouraged me to go to all the festivals. I don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for you.” 

“I just thought you looked really lonely.” 

Apollo glanced down at her. “Huh?”

Trucy shrugged. “That day we met. I came by the farm because I was curious about our new neighbour, but you looked really sad and lonely, and I just thought you could use a friend.” 

Apollo was floored. He didn’t realise his grief had been so obvious, but then again, Trucy had always been weirdly perceptive. A lot of things she had said and done over the past year suddenly made a lot more sense. 

“You might be the kindest person I have ever known. I owe so much of my current life to you, and I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

“You’re staying.” Trucy squeezed him again. “You’ve repaid me enough.” 

Apollo smiled to himself. What was he ever going to do without Trucy Wright? 

They stood together in the center of the town square, holding each other until Trucy suddenly gasped and sprang away. 

“Oh! If you’re staying, then I have so many ideas for the farm!” 

Apollo wasn’t sure he liked where this was going. “Do you now?” 

“I saw this post online about a girl who grew a lot of pumpkins really close together, and they all combined into a GIANT pumpkin the size of a small car!” Trucy’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “And I also heard that some farmers breed fish in these stone fish pond thingies, so maybe we can raise a bunch of octopuses and I can use them in my magic shows! Oh, and we can put a flock of sheep in the barn you’re not using, and we can dye them all different colours like in Minecraft, and–” 

“Okay.” Apollo grabbed her shoulders before she got too carried away. “We can look into some of those ideas – at least the ones that aren’t wildly unethical.” 

Fortunately, Trucy didn’t argue with him – this time, at least. “Okay. I’m just really glad you’re staying.” 

“I know.” Apollo softened. “Me too.” 

Trucy smiled. She opened her mouth to say something else, but then she spotted something over Apollo’s shoulder that made her switch her tracks. “You should probably tell Klavier that you’re staying too. This is the third time I’ve caught him staring at you since we started talking.” 

Apollo glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Klavier look away. He scratched the back of his neck as if he hadn’t been looking at all, but Ema and Kay were chatting away next to him and he clearly wasn’t paying them any attention. 

Apollo’s shoulders slumped. He had really hurt him, hadn’t he? 

“Yeah, I probably should. Do you mind if I…?” 

Trucy beamed. “Of course not! Go for it!” She pushed him in the direction of their table before he could chicken out. 

Apollo took a deep breath to calm himself, and made his way over. He hadn’t been nervous about breaking the news to Trucy – he had no doubts about how she was going to react – but it was different with Klavier. He wanted to believe that Klavier would be just as overjoyed, but when they hadn’t spoken one word to each other since the Night Market, it was difficult to get a bead on how he was feeling, or if he was even still open to being in a relationship at all. Maybe it was irrational, but he couldn’t help but worry that Klavier had changed his mind about him in the time they’d spent apart. He could only hope he hadn’t messed things up beyond repair. 

When they realised Apollo was heading in their direction, Klavier suddenly sat up straight, eyes wide in alarm, and Ema and Kay’s conversation grinded to a halt. Ema, in a burst of loyalty Apollo didn’t know she possessed for Klavier, glared him down and probably would have said something too if Kay hadn’t grabbed her hand. 

It didn’t take long for the years of media training to kick in, and Klavier flashed him a charming smile with too many teeth. “Schöne Winter Star, Herr Forehead!” he greeted him. 

It hurt to see him don the celebrity mask after Apollo had put so much work into taking it off. 

“Yeah, um… happy Winter Star.” He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and scrambled for something else to say. “You look good?” 

Klavier was wearing the same winter coat and scarf he had put on when they had gone to the Night Market, but his appearance now was more casual and less planned out than it was back then. It also looked like he hadn’t been sleeping much lately, even with concealer to hide the bags under his eyes.  

“Danke.” Klavier bowed his head gratefully. The returning compliment that usually flowed out of him so freely was noticeably absent. 

An awkward silence befell them. Klavier stayed quiet, looking up at Apollo expectantly and waiting for him to say his piece, while Ema and Kay watched on like he and Klavier were a car crash about to happen. 

In hindsight, Apollo wished he had come up with some sort of plan before walking over here. He had thought about this conversation plenty since he had spoken to Clay, but even in the privacy of his bedroom with only Mikeko as a witness, he had struggled to find the words. At the time, he determined it was better to just wing it and speak from the heart, but he was regretting that decision now. 

In any case, maybe this was a conversation they shouldn’t be having in public. 

“Can I talk to you? In private?” 

Klavier tensed up, but despite his initial hesitance, he nodded and got up from the table. 

“Ja. Lead the way.” 

The walk back to the farm was terse and uncomfortable. Apollo attempted to pass the time by asking Klavier how his Winter Star had been going so far as even stilted small talk was better than dead silence, but conversation didn’t come as easily to them as it used to. 

(“So who did you get for the gift exchange?” 

“The young Fraulëin Fey. She told me once that she wished she could afford designer makeup like mine, so I bought her everything she could possibly need. I went way over budget, but ach, we all deserve nice things, ja?” 

“Ja- I mean, yeah. That was nice of you.” 

Klavier simply shrugged. 

“Um… and what did you get?” 

“A gift card to the Kitaki’s, courtesy of Herr Wright.” 

“The bar that already pays you in free drinks?” 

“I don’t mind it. We’re not exactly close, Herr Wright and I.” 

“Still. He could have asked me, and I could have helped him pick out something for you.” Apollo regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Klavier locked up even further. “O- or Trucy! He could’ve asked Trucy! She would have known what to get you!” 

“...That probably would have been better, ja.”) 

Apollo hated how awkward things were between them now. Klavier used to be so easy to talk to, but now it was like conversing with an overly polite brick wall. He answered Apollo’s questions and asked a few back, but the flair and charm he was so well known for was almost entirely gone. It was like he was so afraid of saying something flirty that he was choosing not to say anything at all. It was driving Apollo crazy, and the sooner he fixed this and got the old Klavier back, the better. 

It was almost a relief when they made it to the farm, though now he was presented with the new problem of how he was going to ask him if he wanted to give dating another shot. He was about to rip off the bandaid and plainly say ‘Hey, I know I broke your heart and everything, but I changed my mind about leaving, so do you want to go on another date? I promise I won't ruin it this time’ when Klavier spoke first. 

“Oh, you replaced the greenhouse.” He walked over to inspect it, boots crunching on the snow. 

Apollo forgot he wouldn’t have seen it yet. “Yeah. I needed a project to work on during the winter, so….” He shrugged. “I haven’t done anything with it yet because I’ve been… distracted lately, but it’s ready for the spring at least.” 

“You built this all by yourself?” 

“Well, Mr. Wright helped with the roof and the door, but other than that… yeah, mostly.” 

Klavier peered through the glass at the empty patch of soil inside, and then ran a gloved hand down the metal frame holding it all together. A ghost of a smile pulled at his lips. “Herr Forehead, you never fail to impress me.” 

A spark of hope was rekindled within him. 

This was the first sign Apollo got all day that Klavier was still interested, that he still had a chance with him. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he would come out of this unscathed after all. 

Encouraged, Apollo stepped forward. “I can give you a tour of the rest of the farm, if you want.” 

Klavier raised a brow. “You want to give me a tour of a farm I have already been to?” 

“No. I want to give you a tour of a farm that doesn't exist yet.” 

Klavier wasn’t any less confused, but Apollo was feeling bold now and barrelled onwards. 

He offered him his hand. 

 “Do you trust me?” 

Klavier’s gaze flitted between his open palm and his face, but what he saw, Apollo could only guess. Something like want ignited in his eyes. “Ja, I trust you.” 

He slipped his hand into his. Their fingers fit together perfectly, two halves of the same whole. 

On the rare occasions when Apollo would allow himself to dream, he would stand on the porch steps and imagine what the farm might look like a year, two years, five years down the line. Back then, those ideas were nothing more than self-indulgent little fantasies of a life he never thought he could keep, but now that he was walking the grounds hand-in-hand with Klavier, those dreams felt more achievable than ever. 

There were plans he was already steadily moving towards…

“Picture this: rows upon rows of fruits and vegetables stretching from the house all the way to the fence separating us from the Wright Family Ranch. Sprinklers would be set to go off every morning at six so I don’t have to water them manually, and there would be a whole family of Mr. Hat scarecrows to scare away the birds.” 

…plans he had made for the upcoming spring but not much further…

“The fence around the barn would be fixed, and there would be a pair of goats grazing in the grass and chewing the hay. In the barn itself, I'd set up a couple of presses to churn out artisanal homemade cheese.” 

…and plans he would have only considered if he had stayed for at least another year. 

“Maybe there would be other animals at pasture as well – cows, and sheep, and even a pig or two. The barn’s certainly big enough, so why stop at goats?” 

Now that he knew the move was permanent, it was like the whole world had opened up to him, and a realm of possibilities now laid open at his feet in beautiful technicolour. 

“Imagine a whole orchard of fruit trees over here, and something new is flourishing every season, and I could tap a few maple trees too. Hell, I’ve heard of people growing their own tea leaves, so fuck it let’s add a couple of tea bushes into the mix. Maybe I could bribe Mr. Edgeworth into lowering my taxes.”

There were dreams he had been playing with since he moved here, and new dreams that popped up fresh as he was laying them all out for Klavier. 

“There’s so much space here. I could probably build a second coop that housed some other type of animal. Did you know Nahyuta and I had a pet rabbit when we lived here? I could do something like that again – raise a whole warren. Trucy would like that too, I think.” 

“Ja,” Klavier laughed, “and she would kidnap them for her magic shows.” 

At some point during the tour – and Apollo couldn’t quite pinpoint when – Klavier had figured out what Apollo was doing and why he was telling him all of this, but he still let Apollo drag him all over the property anyway, and allowed himself to get swept up in the fantasies alongside him. 

“You know what I could put next to the house? A stable.” 

“Do you even know how to ride a horse, Herr Cowboy?” 

“I could figure it out.” 

“I hope you do. What I wouldn’t give to see you in a pair of cowboy boots and a matching hat.” 

“...I thought you were going to say assless chaps for a second.” 

Klavier winked. “Those too.” 

There were so many new additions Apollo could add, so many new avenues he could explore now that he knew he had the luxury of exploring them. 

He could grow specialty plants in the greenhouse that would flourish all year round. He could clear all the trash out of the wine cellar underneath the house and use it for its intended purpose. He could build flour mills, fish ponds, silos. He could make mayonnaise, vinegar, honey. He could brew his own beer, spin his own cloth, distill his own oil. 

He could build a second shrine next to Dhurke’s and dedicate it to Clay, carve constellations into the marble. 

The future was bright and hopeful, and Apollo had all the time in the world. 

He was only missing one key thing. 

At the end of the tour, they stood outside the farmhouse facing each other, hands clasped together between them. Klavier was looking down at him with fond eyes and a smile that could have rivalled a siren’s. Apollo suspected his own expression was similarly lovestruck. 

“You already know what I’m going to say.” 

“Perhaps,” Klavier leaned in towards him, “but ah, I do love a romantic gesture.” 

Apollo rolled his eyes, but there was no heat behind it. He had already come this far; he might as well go all the way. 

“Klavier… I’m sorry about what happened that night in the submarine. I was confused and I didn’t know what I wanted, but… I know now.” 

He set his jaw with strengthened resolve. 

“I want to stay in Stardew Valley. I want to keep waking up at six every morning to water plants and feed the chickens. I want to go to every festival next year, and dance with Trucy, and compete with Athena, and get lost in that stupid maze again. I want to help you build up your law office and become the best lawyer I know you can be.” 

Klavier grasped his hands tightly. If Apollo listened carefully enough, he could probably hear his heartbeat through his coat. 

“I want to have a future here – a real future that’s not going to be pulled away from me in the blink of an eye. I’m sick of constantly starting my life over. I want to put down roots. I… I want friends again, and I want a family again, and…” 

Apollo looked into Klavier’s blue eyes and saw the world reflected back at him. 

“...and I want you.” 

“Oh, Schatz.” Klavier cupped Apollo’s face, the wool of his gloves scratching against his cheeks. “You already had me.” 

Klavier crashed their lips together, and Apollo had to grab on to his waist before his knees could buckle beneath him. 

With that, the final puzzle piece fell into place. 

When Apollo first moved to Stardew Valley, all he had been looking for was an escape – a distraction from the debilitating grief that had bled into every corner of his life until it had consumed him whole. 

The grief had not left him – not entirely. He doubted it would ever fully go away. It would always be a part of him, a lingering scar of a wound that didn’t heal right, but strangely, Apollo was okay with that. After all, what was a scar if not proof of a life long lived? 

He wasn’t going to let Clay’s loss define him anymore. He wasn’t going to let it keep him from living his life. He would let it sit in the corner of his ribcage, out of sight but not forgotten, but he wouldn’t let it weigh him down. 

Clay had told him himself: all he wanted was for Apollo to be happy, and Apollo knew he could be happy here with neighbours, friends, and a partner who loved him. 

Apollo came to Stardew Valley looking for an escape. Instead, he found Trucy Wright. He found Klavier Gavin. 

And he was looking forward to seeing what he might find next.