I don't own Harvest Moon at all. Natsume does. Anyway, this story is based on the new DS game, The Island that Grows with You. Or something like that. I haven't played the game, but have found a lot of info on it. This will probly not be anything like the game and could have many differences from what it's actually like, but I'm having fun writing it and will finish it. This is only the beginning to what I have to see if anyone else would be interested in reading it. Please let me know what you think and give constructive criticism if you want. In reading about the game, I found a site called Ushi No Tane very helpful.
PART ONE:
Chelsea smiled as she walked through the small town that had slowly formed on the Island. Well, if you could call a church and a house a town. She had finished work on the farm she ran and was off to the beach to fish from the pier. It was a beautiful day for fishing.
When she reached the beach, she noticed a ship was docked. That's odd. She thought. They just left with a shipment and it can't be time for another one. As Chelsea watched, a passenger got off the boat, talking with the captain.
"I just have to find the bakery that sent those cakes out, they were fantastic! Just like the ones I had from the little bakery in the city!" Chelsea stared at him. He was short, as far as boys go, looking to be only a couple inches taller than her. And he was dressed so oddly! Curly, golden hair was stashed underneath the tallest top had she'd ever seen, which was purple no less! He also wore a long purple jacket that made the red bowtie around his neck stick out. She couldn't help herself and giggled at the sight of him.
Soon the captain noticed her, as did the stranger. "Chelsea! It's good to see you again. Fishing today?"
She nodded at the Captain. "It's a beautiful day." She then turned to the stranger who was staring at her. She smiled nervously. "Hello. I'm Chelsea Groves." She extended her hand. The boy continued to look at her, seeming to size her up before replying: "Pierre Gourmet, Eight Generation Gourmet."
Chelsea had to keep from laughing. He talked with such a flair of importance, like everyone should have heard about him. "Well, it's nice to meet you. What brings you to the Island?" She asked politely.
"Well, it's business, you know?"
"Oh." Chelsea felt the brush-off and gave a small smile. "Well, I should leave you to it. Nice meeting you, Gourmet-san. Nice seeing you again Captain." She bowed slightly as the boy headed into town and the Captain went back to his ship to sail out once more. She turned and headed towards the dock.
Once Chelsea knew she was out of earshot, she finally let her giggles go. "What a peacock!" She laughed as she threw her line into the water, trying to forget the funny stranger that had just arrived.
The young farmer fished for most of the afternoon until her stomach started to growl. Guess that's a sign I should head back. She thought and began to gather her things. She looked into her basket. She'd kept only eight fish, the biggest ones she'd gotten. They'll make a nice supper for everyone. Maybe a salad, too. She took the basket and her rod and hiked across the beach, back towards the tiny, tiny town and the farm she worked on with people who had come to be like family to her.
Chelsea hadn't originally planned on living on an island that hadn't been inhabited for years, but found herself shipwrecked there with a family of four. Tarou, the old, veteran farmer, his daughter Ferena and her two children, Natalie and Erik had been shipwrecked with her. They decided they'd make the best of it and fixed up the farmhouse on the north ridge of the island. It was big enough for all of them and they could forage in the nearby forest and fish in the river.
Eventually they got the transmitter working, but something had set the family's minds on staying on the Island, trying to make the little farm flourish once again. It wasn't like Chelsea had anywhere else to go, so she asked if she could stay and help as well. She was, of course welcome, and helped to plant the crops, harvest and ship them and get knowledge of the Island out there.
A while later, the blacksmith that they ordered all their tools from moved to the Island along with his little daughter Elza. A pastor and a nun came, too, fixing up the Island Church. Everyone became good friends, often spending Sundays at the Church and everyone cooking meals together to share. It was a quiet, peaceful life and Chelsea found it calming. Even now, with the salty air blowing and the sounds of the birds in the trees and the. . .
"What do you mean there's no bakery in this town?!"
She winced. What a screechy voice! Though she knew it had to belong to the newcomer. It seemed to be coming from the vicinity of the Church. Chelsea rounded one of the abandoned buildings to see Ariella, the Nun was trying to calm him down.
Chelsea had to keep from laughing again. The boy was actually pouting! Wasn't he too old for that? She chuckled as she approached the girl and the stranger. "Ariella?" She asked.
"Oh! Hello, Chelsea. Um. . ." She was looking from the farmer to the newcomer, obviously wanting her to take over the fight. Chelsea smiled and Ariella smiled back, gratefully heading back into the Church. "Did you say something about a bakery?"
He turned to look at her, that adorable pout still on his face. "I was told that the cakes that have been sent to the shops in town were from a bakery on this island! They tasted just like the ones I used to get from this little place in town, but it's not there anymore. I thought maybe they moved out here for some reason!" He pouted more.
Chelsea processed this and couldn't help it, she started laughing. "You came all this way just for that?!" She laughed and he pouted more, his face getting red. "We just ship what we find, fish or grow! There's no bakery here. It's just the farm, the Church and the blacksmith shop."
"Well, you don't have to laugh at me for it! But now I'm stuck here! The ship isn't coming back for a while!" He looked around dismally. "And there isn't even a restaurant."
"Nope." Chelsea smiled. "But we all have dinner together. It's the farm's turn to make supper for everyone." She smiled as she held up the basket. "I caught fish. You're welcome to join us. I'm sure you could stay in one of the rooms, too." She added as an afterthought.
The boy looked to the basket. "I guess I have no choice." He sighed. "I hope you're at least a good cook."
Chelsea sweatdropped. "Well, I'm not the best."
"Great. I'm going to be stranded and poisoned."
Chelsea stopped and glared at him. "I'm not that bad!" He just ignored her and kept walking. Chelsea re-shouldered her basket and stalked after him, mentally kicking herself for inviting him to stay in the house. She walked faster so she was in front of him when they entered the farm's property. She hurried up to the door and opened it, holding it for him and not even receiving a 'thank you'.
"Chelsea, welcome back! Did you catch a lot of fish?" Ferena greeted her.
"Yeah, but that's not all I got." She said grudgingly.
"Oh?" The woman stepped into the hall and saw Pierre. "Oh! A new face! Welcome to the Island! My name is Ferena."
Pierre gave her a nice smile. "Nice to meet you, ma'am. I am Pierre Gourmet." He bowed.
"Oh my! What a gentleman! Chelsea, how about we get to work on those fish? I'm sure our guest is hungry."
Chelsea nodded and carried the basket into the kitchen, grumbling as she dumped the fish onto the cutting board and picked up a knife. She began preparing the fish. The young girl took out a frying pan and added a slab of butter to start melting it.
"You know, oil works much better for frying fish." She frowned as she turned to look at the boy.
"Gourmet-san, I fry fish in butter. If you want fish fried in oil, do it yourself." She turned back to the pan and added the fish.
"You should really season them first. Do you have any pepper? And lemon?"
The young woman gritted her teeth. "No. I season the fish with basil leaves."
"Basil? You can't season salmon with basil, it'll ruin the flavors! You need lemon and pepper." He went to reach for the seasonings but Chelsea slapped his hand with her spatula.
"It's my fish. I will cook my fish my way!" She said through gritted teeth.
Pierre huffed at her. "But I can't stand to see you ruin it!" He lunged for the spice rack once again and when Chelsea went to intervene, it ended up knocked off the wall. All the spices came tumbling down and several of the jars broke, sending various spices all over the fish. Chelsea coughed. "Now look what you did!" She scolded him.
"It wasn't just my fault! If you'd just do what I tell you, then it wouldn't be ruined!" They stood in the kitchen, glaring and yelling at each other until Ferea came in.
"What's going on? Oh! The fish! What happened?!" She looked to the two who started yelling that it was the other's fault. Soon her mother side came out and she could no longer take it. "ENOUGH!!" She grabbed the back of their shirts and pulled them apart. "I will finish cooking. Chelsea, go see if Natalie and Erik need any help."
The young farmer grumbled as she exited the kitchen. "Stupid Gourmet!" She muttered under her breath as she went to join her friends.
"What was that all about?" Natalie asked as Chelsea stomped into the field.
"Some stupid newcomer from the city came here. Figured there was a bakery or something on the Island and I invited him here, but he just ruined the fish I caught today! Thinks he knows everything."
Natalie and Erik looked at each other. "Wait, you said someone new came to the Island?"
Erik smiled. "You know what this means?! They mainland knows about us! Maybe more will come!"
"You too?!" Chelsea sighed. "I don't want him here, I want him to go back to whatever town he came from!" She stood and stalked out of the field, heading to the small house across the field from Ferena's house. They had fixed this one up as well and it was where Chelsea slept. It was little more than a sitting room that also doubled as a kitchen, a small bedroom and a toilet. She flopped down on her bed and put her pillow over her face, screaming into it. These next few days were going to be hell.
To be continued . . .