There is nothing that is as beautiful and terrifying to me as a blank canvas. Possibilities. Future tears and agony. Fantasies. Failures. Bringing forth new life.

Okay, maybe that last one's a bit too proud. I am but an artist, after all, and therefore human.

However, there is something to be said about the power and satisfaction I feel when I am able to capture the delicate nature of a dragonfly's wing over a trickling stream. I am lost in time as my pencil flies across my sketchbook, taking a snapshot of the beauty before me.

It's good to remember times like these, especially when happiness can't be found.

My said rendering becomes sprinkled with water as I hear a loud splash, the subject of my work flitting away. I bite down on my lip and hold in an irritated grunt as I tuck the pencil behind my ear and set down the book. I bend my knees and pull my legs toward my chest to avoid a saturated plum-colored hat that is being tossed at the grass like a Frisbee. As my friend pulls himself out of the stream, his eyes are locked on some object in the distance.

Wide and bright. Two round jades. They never fail to lift my spirits, even when it's against my own will.

"Oh, man, did you see that stag beetle? I swear that thing's the size of a tennis ball!"

He's still staring off after the bug that caught his attention and as he points to it, water flings from his clothing and further sprinkles my drawing and a few drops land in my eyes. I usually think of myself as a man of patience, but it has worn thin today, as the book is even wetter.

"Dang it, Dirk! I was almost finished with that sketch, too! Now the paper's going to warp! You're such a… a butt sometimes!"

Alright, so maybe I'm more of an artist with a brush than one with words.

"Aw, c'mon!" he whines. "It's not like I haven't gotten your paper wet before! Besides, you missed my flying leap with the net!" He waves his bug net in the air, sending sprinkles of water everywhere.

I brush a few droplets from my frizzy brown hair and stand up with a frown. I don't say anything as I gather my sketchbook and begin to head back home.

Resting the handle of the net across the back of his shoulders, he jogs to catch up with me. "Don't be mad, Angelo. I didn't mean to screw up your drawing. Is that really all you're mad about?"

A soft touch at my arm and a pair of vivacious eyes with thick eyelashes…

I shove the memory away.

I turn the doorknob to my house and open the door with my shoulder, turning to face him. "I thought we were going to just enjoy each other's company for a while." I frown as I hear the disappointment in my voice, turning my face away in embarrassment. I know I shouldn't feel the way that I do, but I can't help it. Surely I remind him too much of his home life…

He follows me into the house and squeezes his hat out on the floor, oblivious to my furrowed eyebrows and wordless flapping lips in response. He really is nothing more than a big child. "Really? You couldn't do that before you stepped inside?"

He gestures toward the wood shavings that are littering the floor around my latest project. "It's not like your floor is clean to begin with." At this, he lets out a playful chuckle and I feel my anger fading away.

I'm tempted to insist that he clean up the mess he made; dry wood shavings are one thing, and the ones that migrated to the doorway going to be much harder to clean up now. However, with the regimen of chores he's been doing lately, I don't have the heart to make him do it.

"Why were you going after that stag beetle, anyway?" I change the subject. "You're not planning to… use it for something, are you?"

Dirk gives me a wounded look as he clutches his chest. "Angelo. I am surprised at you! I'd never-!"

"Quit with the dramatics." I cut him off with a wry smile. "We both know that I know you far too well to buy that."

He is admiring my carving of the mayor that is still a work in progress. I can't help but smile. The way his green eyes carefully move across my work and the kindness reflected in them always makes me feel more confident in my abilities. He has spent countless afternoons with me asking about my work and studying my pieces, often surprising me with his insight. I guess someone who likes playing with bugs can also see the symbolism in a surreal painting. Then again, it doesn't hurt that insects are the subject matter of that specific painting…

"So, what is this really about?" I ask, giving him a stern look.

His eyes immediately widen and he looks at me as if he's been reprimanded. "I just wanted one for my collection, honest! You sound like Ivan, all serious all the time. It's not a good look for you, y'know?" He gives me a light punch on the arm.

I briefly reflect on my sourness to Dirk's usual antics. "I just… I wanted my dragonfly sketch to turn out well." I wish my excuse didn't sound so lame or weak. The worst part was, it is true; I had been pretty invested in drawing that particular sketch…

"You'll get more dragonflies to look at," he reassures me, taking a seat at my table. "There is always a ton of 'em during late summer like this." He absentmindedly stretches his arms over his head as he looks over at me. "My brother can't wait for fall to start. For that very reason, I wish summer would never end. He's so hung up on Gretel, but she's been talking about her outings with Amir lately. They don't really sound like dates, but Ivan's furious about it." A smirk curls at the corner of Dirk's mouth, and I know he is relishing in his brother not having complete control of everything in his life. "The sooner fall comes and Amir leaves for his yearly visit home, the sooner Ivan can focus on Gretel and all will be right with the world." Dirk pauses, looking up from the table and resting his chin on his hand. "I'm an awful brother, aren't I?"

Ivan is kind, but he can be a bit overbearing at times. I feel a smug smile of my own coming on. "I wouldn't say you're a perfect brother, but who really is?"

"Apparently Amir is." Dirk rolls his eyes. "Gretel was bragging that he has been writing his little sister regularly to improve their relationship. Turns out she wasn't mad at big brother to begin with." He lets out an overdramatic sigh and pretends to swoon. "Ah, life sure is hard when you're a prince!"

I bite my tongue for a moment. I can't help but recall that any time Daisy caught me outside working anymore, she would mention how intriguing and mysterious Amir seemed to her. And every time she mentions him, my paintings and drawings look… off.

Amir is polite, if a bit shy, and I suppose his foreign accent makes him sound exotic and even more fascinating. He often looks like he is brooding about something; surely that makes Daisy even more interested. I forgot at what point it didn't really hurt as much. It was probably around the same time that I finally made myself throw away a doodle in my sketchbook that I had given her some pointers on.

She has potential, but her zest for art appears to wane as she talks more and more about the young man staying at the inn.

She seems so much happier, and as much as I hated it at first, I know it is for the best.

I can still see her sketch clearly in my mind. I remember her shaky lines on the frame of the silhouette as it looked out at the river, cap in hand, surrounded by the late summer dragonflies. I can still hear her joyful laughter as I ran my hands through my ponytail, asking in mock surprise if my hair really looked like that from the back. I always loved the way her blonde ringlets bounced when she giggled.

Extra care was taken on the curve of my cheek, the profile of my lips…

Yes, it is for the best. If I don't tell myself that, I'm not sure how else I can process it.

"Amir seems to be a good person to me," I reply carefully. I think of the furrow of his brow as he sat outside alone recently, his shoulders heaving as he let out the occasional sigh. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. "I don't know how happy he is here in Zephyr Town. He seems to get gradually more depressed during his stays here." I pause. "Daisy's… mentioned it, as well…"

Part of me wonders, hopes, if he'll decide to live somewhere else. I hate myself for thinking this way.

Dirk looks deep in thought and bites his lip as he sits in silence for a few moments. "Sometimes… Sometimes a fresh start might be best, y'know? I mean, if you feel you have nothing left here…" He gives me a mischievous grin, but there is more than a bit of sadness to it. "Besides… if Amir moves, he can always take Gretel along with him and my brother will finally get what he deserves."

It seems Dirk still isn't over the stack of chores Ivan gave him as punishment last week for putting a few stag beetles under his pillow.

"He has no sense of humor!" Dirk had said after the incident, a hint of a chuckle to his voice as he pushed his mop across the floor. "You really should've heard him scream when he found one in his hair!"

My friend is a firm believer that what Ivan calls maturity, Dirk sees as a lack of wonder in the world.

And in some ways, I suppose I agree with him. After all, there are far too many people that take life too seriously and don't spend time enjoying what is going on around them. That's why I create art. I want to immortalize the here and now so that I can reflect on that moment and relive that joy in my darker moments and remember that life can be beautiful.

"You deserve a brother who appreciates you," I say with a nod of the head. "Really. You'd think someone who works with children would be a little more open to fun and, oh, I don't know, happiness."

Dirk gives me a crooked smile, his eyes lighting up. "You really think all that?"

I nod emphatically once more. "Well, sure! I know that there have been countless times you've pulled me out of a funk and reminded me that life is supposed to be fun… and beautiful." I think of the dragonfly drawing; I shouldn't have been so harsh on him…

Dirk's chair screeches across the floor as he moves closer to me with a nervous chuckle. His lips catch the corner of my mouth and before I can process what's going on, he grasps my cheeks and tries again, kissing me more firmly. My eyes are open in shock, and I can see his eyes are squeezed shut as he concentrates. I honestly can't tell if this is pleasant or horrible. I'm struggling to make sense of what has just happened as we come up for air and I'm dumbfounded as he sneaks in one more quick peck.

He lets out a soft chuckle, giving me a grin. "Sorry if that was kinda awkward at first… Guess I shocked you..." Perhaps he is noticing that I did not return the kiss. The smile on his face fades as he looks back over at me. "You… didn't like that." His eyebrows raise and there's hurt and apology in his eyes. "Goddess, Angelo, I'm sorry… I just thought…"

My mind is swimming with a million thoughts and emotions and I don't have a single word to describe any of them. "It's alright. I know you weren't trying to make me uncomfortable." I force a small smile on my lips.

Where do we go from here?

"So you were uncomfortable…" Dirk avoids my gaze, his face going pale.

"Well, n-no… Yeah," I confess, my heart sinking a bit as I see his frown. "It's okay, though!" I add for good measure. "No harm done! It doesn't have to be a big deal."

These are obviously the wrong words; Dirk's eyes are beginning to look especially shiny. "You're always asking to hang out together… I've been thinking for the past year to tell you how I feel… But… you're not into me, are you?" His voice quavers with emotion and a couple of tears splash onto the table's surface. "I thought you were over Daisy! I-I thought that we…" He pauses. "I wish… I wish summer would never end!" His words are bitter as he breaks into an honest cry.

We both know his wish isn't for expanding his beetle collection.

My body remains paralyzed. Dirk is my best friend, but I'm unsure if I'm supposed to try to comfort him at this point. My heart hurts and everything feels so muddled…

"I don't care if it's selfish!" he continues miserably. "Why does it have to be bad for me to want something for myself?" He buries his face in his hands. "It's always been you, Angelo! How could you not see that?"

Images of Daisy's sunny yellow hair unwillingly come to mind and her musical laughter rings in my ears. I had thought I wanted to escape these memories of her…

Do I really?

"I… I'm really sorry, Dirk." I hold my tongue. Saying "I still care about you" seems like a cruel thing to do, even if it is true.

"I-I really took a chance, y'know," he laughed bitterly, wiping his tears with the edge of his shirt. "Now you probably think I'm an awkward, pathetic creep."

"I never said-"

He cuts my words short. "We'd be lying if we said things would ever be the same between us." He stands up, choking back a sob. "I have a brother who treats me like a delinquent, and now… this. M-maybe what I said earlier really is true – a new start wouldn't be so bad… There's nothing left for me here now…"

I'm speechless from the sincerity in his voice. For one of the few times in his life, Dirk is completely serious. He picks his damp hat off of the table and slaps it on his head.

I can't tell whether it would be wiser to let him go or make him stay.

Then again, I'm always that way with people I really care about, aren't I?

My time is up.

"I've gotta go home and think…" His words are level and solemn. He gives me one last glance before quietly walking out of the door, gently closing it behind him.

I am left alone with silence.

I am left alone with memories.

Memories of a young man struggling to earn his older brother's approval. Memories of a young woman's cheeks growing rosy the way they used to when she said my name instead of Amir's. A fresh memory of my best friend's lips on mine as he desperately grabbed for something stable in his life.

I tear the sketch of the dragonfly out of the book and hold it with trembling hands.

The drawing isn't important – it reminds me of her and the happiness I can't have.

The drawing is everything – it is a reflection of a time when things were good; a memory that life can be beautiful.

I tear it down the center, crumpling each piece of paper into a ball and slamming them down on the table's surface.

I'm not sure if I'm ready to accept change, after all…

0o0o0o0

Author's Note: Ugh, this was originally drafted to be a happy story. I thought the concept of Dirk and Angelo as an unlikely pairing would be a lot of fun, as I could see Dirk being oblivious to Antoinette and Daisy and Angelo's rival events weren't really romantic. Then I reflected on their events again and realized how dang precious it is that Angelo is sharing his life's passion with someone and taking a genuine interest in helping her skills grow. It's friggin' endearing, even if it's not mushy.

So I had to go and be a jerk and break Dirk's heart. I figured if Echo Village has the potential to bring more happiness to Amir, then maybe Konohana could for Dirk. I've always enjoyed reading stories where people try to explain characters' multiple appearances in different games, so I thought I'd add to the collection.

Symbolism Note: You've probably noticed a lot of bugs in this story. Beetles' bodies are sectioned into the head, abdomen, and thorax (three parts!). This can be an allusion to the "rule of three": that you receive three times the energy you put into your environment. Long story short, you reap what you sow, threefold. I also like the notion of what goes around comes around.

Dragonflies can symbolize change, self-realization, transformation and adaptability.

Despite this story ending up very differently than the way I planned it, I'm still pretty happy with the results and I truly hoped you enjoyed. Thanks for reading!