Hey world. Long time no see, right?
Anyways, you get to follow Nami around throughout this AWL fic. It's in the 3rd person as well, which is a rather abrupt change from my last little story, and may seem a bit awkward. Hopefully, I'll be able to go around and fix things once I get a better grasp of the concept. 8D
Lastly, I hope you enjoy my newest little tale of Nami and Gustafa. Reviews and concrit are greatly appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon or any of its characters/settings/anything no matter how awesome it may be.
--
It was a hot, humid summer morning.
The air was thick and damp. Fog rose slowly from turtle pond, diffusing into the darkness surrounding Forget-Me-Not Valley. The stars continued to shine in the early morning hour, though they were fading with every passing minute.
In the town square, a few lanterns stood diligently along the main cobblestone roadway. The soldier-like lights illuminated the path, but little else. Even in the dim morning, however, any passer-by would have spotted a large, sturdy sign along the road. The sign was a common local landmark placed outside of the tallest building in Forget-Me-Not Valley. The face of the sign had the name of the building neatly carved into it for any traveler to find.
"INNER INN"
The Inner Inn was a small establishment, but few people would be able to name a more welcoming place. Every wooden surface was polished and waxed to radiate a welcoming shine, and the fireplace was always lit. Ruby ensured that the meals were steaming, healthy, and delicious, and Tim handled everything else.
During the early morning hours of summer even, the Inn appeared to be a beautifully tranquil dwelling, practically begging the populous of Forget-Me-Not Valley to come in for a cool drink.
That was, until a morning alarm shattered the delicate atmosphere.
The siren-like sound reverberated throughout the small rented room. It shot off of the oak floor and bounced playfully on the various foreign souvenirs and photographs lining the walls. It danced among mysterious trinkets and objects positioned on the shelves and along the dresser, growing ever stronger while doing so. The sound escalated to a climax after several seconds, but the only response it received was a mumbled groan of protest.
"Nngg…" The muffled noise came from the young woman splayed out in the room's double bed. Crumpled beige sheets and blankets littered the once clean floor; it was obvious that the bed's resident had gotten a tad warm the night before.
After a few more minutes of resistance to the screeching noise, the girl finally threw a pale arm out in an attempt to locate the blessed snooze button. The mission failed, however, and she only managed to knock the clock off of the bedside table. A crash mixed with the rest of the sounds polluting the room as the machine collided messily with the floor. From there, it bounced teasingly under the bed where it continued to release noise, as though it were trying to spite the sleeping girl.
"You've got to be kidding me," The woman muttered to no one in particular. Left with no choice, she forced herself off of the far-too-comfortable mattress to retrieve the annoying machine.
With silence finally restored, the woman felt along the wall for the light switch. After flicking it on, however, her eyes screamed in pain and protest to the drastic change in light. She backed against a wall, covering her eyes with both hands.
The young woman groaned once again; she was not entirely sure what the worst thing about the morning had been. Finally regaining her composure, she stepped up to the large mirror hung above her dresser and found herself face-to-face with her irked reflection. Her hand ran through her flaming red hair; it was an absolute mess. As she grappled for her brush, she pondered how short hair could possibly be so unmanageable. After a few strokes of the hairbrush, however, it was obvious that her work was in vain. Her crimson locks shot out with frizz and unwanted volume in various gravity-defying directions.
She let out a long sigh; she had clearly decided what the worst part of the morning was.
It was a hot, humid summer day.
--
Half an hour later, the young woman found herself dressed and with her hair in order once again. At first glance, she appeared to be ready to greet the world with a smile. Her glaring cobalt eyes and scowl had a different opinion of things, however. Her white shoes collided loudly with the stairs as she entered the lobby of the inn, where she was unfortunately greeted by a teasing chuckle.
"Hahaha! Is someone a bit grumpy this morning?"
The woman knew the loud voice far too well. Her hand instinctively began massaging her temples; she did not have a headache yet, but she knew that if she spent more than a minute around her addresser then she would have one before long.
The boy who had addressed her was about her height, and had brilliantly blond hair. He was a few years younger than the woman, and his bright blue eyes were filled with life. The woman admitted that he was handsome, but he behaved more like a younger brother than anything else.
He was leaning casually against the doorway leading into the kitchen, obviously feeling at home. Along with the girl, he was a resident of the inn, and the son of Ruby and Tim. Even though he was the innkeepers' son, he was incredibly lazy, which made the girl realize that something was peculiar about the boy's presence in the lobby that morning.
"What are you doing up, Rock?"
It was true; Rock was never up before ten, if that.
"Aww, Nami, why do you have to be like that?" Rock replied with a pout, "Am I not allowed to get up early?"
"No," Nami's response was frank, and her expression was still twisted with annoyance, "Not without reason."
To this, Rock responded with a great laugh. "Oh, you know me well. Okay, I'll tell you my brilliant plan!"
Nami sighed and closed her eyes; she found the boy in front of her to be absolutely pathetic. "I'm absolutely enthralled. Please, tell me what your ingenious plan is today."
To any normal person, Nami's tone would have been reeking of sarcasm. However, Rock was not a normal person.
"You finally see my brilliance!" A genuine smile spread across the boy's face, "Well, as you know, I'm supposed to be running the inn today, right?"
Nami nodded slowly, and Rock continued with enthusiasm, "Well I figured, if I get out of here early enough, then Tim and Ruby would think that I went off to do something deep and life-changing, like I do everyday, and they won't make me work!"
"Rock," Nami frowned, "You just find a sunny place and sleep everyday, all day. How is that deep and life-changing in any way?"
Rock appeared to be offended. "And here I though you understood my genius, Nami, but it looks like you're just another lazy, narrow-minded person."
"I don't have time for this," Nami ignored Rock's words, "You're running the inn today, and I'm going to take a walk."
"Not if I leave first!!"
And just like that, Rock made a mad-dash for the door and was gone. Though Nami was at first surprised by the young man's speed, she growled in realization of what had just happened.
She had been left to run the inn on her day off.
Again.
--
"Hey, Nami, could I get another glass of Lemonade?"
With a curt nod, Namitook the cup unenthusiastically from the customer's hand and entered the kitchen, where Ruby was cooking up a storm. Various foods in three frying pans and two pots boiled and sizzled erratically on the stove, and surely there was more action going on in both ovens and the steamer. Nami's stomach growled loudly at the scene; it was almost 5pm and she had skipped lunch.
"Dinner is almost ready," Ruby announced, pre-occupied with her work, "Tell the visitors."
"Yes, Ruby," Nami replied automatically. The red-head quickly retrieved a pitcher of lemonade from the refrigerator and filled the glass she held before returning and delivering the announcement.
Again, Nami took her regular position in one of the chairs behind the front desk. She reclined, balancing on two chair legs and using the wooden wall behind her for support. For the finishing touch, she comfortably propped her feet upon the desk in front of her.
Nami's eyes lazily scanned the lobby; people living in the valley visited the inn almost daily to cool off, warm up, or simply to converse. The floor was covered with potted plants and many clashing pieces of comfortable furniture. The dark, wooden walls were cluttered with various paintings and photographs, some even of her.
She looked from painting to painting, observing each one. Most of them were cheap, but still pleasant and provided, at the very least, an attempted atmosphere of sophistication. A small smile even crossed Nami's face as she recognized each of the locations the paintings depicted: The Eiffel Tower, Mount Fuji, and the Great Wall of China.
The paintings were not what made Nami smile, however. It was her memories of each location. Her life as a traveler flooded her mind, and for a brief, glorious moment, Nami felt as though she was once again standing on the Great Wall, looking out over the vast world.
The world was so vast, but the Valley was so small.
However, Namiwas rudely snapped out of her daydream when the pair of chair legs supporting her gave way. Before she knew what was going on, her legs flew up into the air, and the back of her head collided painfully with the hardwood floor.
Bewildered, Nami flipped herself over onto her knees and clutched the throbbing lump on the back of her head.
"Ach-!" She flinched as her hand made contact with the swollen wound. Frowning, Nami leaned slowly against the wall behind her, letting out a long breath.
It was always the low times that made Nami think about where she really was. She was working in a tiny inn, in a tiny valley, and serving lemonade to people she barely knew to make sure she had a bed to sleep in at night.
It was one of those times that made Nami ponder just what she had given up in her life.
--
"Rock," Ruby's tone was scolding as Rock tried to sneak back into the Inner Inn at eight, "Where were you today? It was your turn to look after the Inn!"
"Well, you see," Rock was grinning, "I was on a journey of self-discovery and inner awareness, attempting to find peace within the universe and-…"
"You don't even know what half of those words mean," Nami interrupted Rock's long-winded excuse with what was likely the truth.
"Hey, that hurts, Nami," Disappointment was scrawled over Rock's face. It was as though he had been rehearsing his little excuse for days, and the red-head had just ruined his show. "But Mom," He returned his focus to Ruby, "You have to admit that self-…universal… within the discovery-awareness is more important than getting a few silly people some drinks, right?"
"Rock…" Before Ruby could even speak, though, Rock was walking up the stairs to his room.
"Well I'm bushed," He mimed a yawn, "Long day, you know? I'll see you guys tomorrow. Good night!"
After Rock's door closed, Ruby frowned and rested her head in her hand.
"Nami, what am I going to do with him?"
The red-head shrugged; honestly, she had no idea what to do about Rock either.
"I'll finish cleaning down here," Nami offered, mostly out of sympathy, "You can go on to bed."
Ruby gave Nami a hug in thanks, and retreated into her bedroom for the night. When she was left alone, Nami began picking up the trash and extra glasses littering the lobby.
As she grabbed a glass, however, her senses were overcome by a soothing melody. The sound was beyond intriguing; it sent a shiver up Nami's spine in a mixture of pleasure and happiness. She threw her dishes into the sink and ran outside, shoving the inn's double doors open as she moved.
Through routine, she jumped the fence of the Inner Inn's private vegetable patch and crouched in hiding. Her hand pressed against the outside wall of the inn to provide Nami with balance in her hiding place. Finally, she closed her eyes and exhaled, letting the sensation overtake her.
Music. Wonderful, passionate music was being played.
Peeking around the corner of the building, Nami was filled with an uncharacteristic sense of joy. Gustafa sat beneath the town square's large dogwood tree strumming a nameless tune. She smiled as his fingers danced along the strings of his instrument. At times it was as though the minstrel had no idea what he was playing, but at the same time, he never missed a note.
Gustafa's music was like nothing Nami had ever heard before, and it was because of this that she would hide in the vegetable patch every night and listen to him play. The action was a guilty pleasure of sorts. One day, she would consider simply walking up to the man and sitting down next to him. But the mere thought of doing so brought a large, unwelcome blush to the red-head's pale face, so she shoved the thought aside and relaxed once again.
Nami came to the conclusion long ago that Gustafa never really played songs, but instead, he turned emotions, memories, and life into music. He could change the wind into an arpeggio, a great joy into a series of chords, and even a smile into a few playful plunks of string. She sighed deeply; his music helped her to see and remember all of the wonderful places she had been as a traveler.
Perhaps that was why she loved it so.
--
Even with everything clean and tidy, Nami felt awake and restless. Without much thought, she locked the inn doors behind her and went on a moonlit stroll.
She meandered casually along the cobblestone path, unguided and without a route in mind. Moths swarmed around the lanterns, each one trying to grow closer to the light source. Nami grinned in amusement at this, behaviors had always fascinated her. Why did the moths love the light? She was sure that there was some fancy scientific answer that someone could slap her with, but that was not was she was asking.
"You can learn a lot about a person by how they walk, you know?"
Nami jumped in surprise. Who had just called her?
"Oh! I did not mean to scare you. My sincere apologies are in order, Nami."
Nami turned, desperate to find the source of the voice. There, within the shadows of the large dogwood tree, sat Gustafa. He had not moved since she listened to him play.
"Gustafa, good evening." Nami greeted politely, hiding her shock and surprise. Honestly, she was impressed that the minstrel even knew her name.
"You're troubled," Gustafa adjusted his sunglasses as he spoke, "Your steps are heavy and confused, as though you don't know where to go."
Nami squinted at the man; she had the utmost respect for his musical talents, and as much as she wanted to sit next to him and spill the contents of her mind, she knew how insecure, impolite, and intruding she would seem if she did so.
"I thank you for your concern," Nami's expression was unreadable, "But there's nothing you can do."
"I see," Gustafa's expression had not changed. He was smiling, sort of. It was a smile, but it was also a grin, and in its own way, also a cocky smirk.
Silence fell over the two like a thick blanket; Nami felt suffocated in its embrace. Feeling too uncomfortable, she decided to end the conversation altogether.
"I really must be going…"
Gustafa nodded in understanding. "It was a great pleasure talking with you. We should do this more often."
"Sure," Nami's reply was simple, but she meant it.
"Sleep well, Nami."
"You too."
--
Once again, the rented room was engulfed with darkness. Nami was lying silently in the beige bed, staring at the ceiling and reflecting on her day.
As sleep was just about to overtake her, however, she heard a voice.
The voice was… singing?
Nami sat up slowly, only half believing that she had actually heard the noise. She padded over to her window and threw it open, leaning her head outside to hear more clearly. Sure enough, Gustafa was strumming his instrument, and humming along. Eventually, he even began singing.
"A dream can be the heart's desire… la la la…"
It ended there. Nami closed the window once again and returned to her bed, collapsing into it with a light bounce of recoil.
Her eyes closed tightly in thought; what was that song? What did it mean?
As she rolled onto her side, Nami let out a groan as well. She felt the uncomfortable damp air on her skin, as she had throughout the entire day. Truthfully, it only informed her of the one thing she did not want to know about:
Tomorrow would be another hot, humid summer morning.