Aaah. I felt I needed to get out my Harvest Moon obsession a little. So have a little drabble about Jin and his past wife.
I think I meant for this to be on Waffle Island (that's ToT, right...?), but I'm turning this into a more light-hearted fic, if that's possible right now hahahaha~ But I'm going to pretend he's moved from Waffle to Castenet or some such.
So we know, this will turn out to be a slash fic. Mostly. I might throw a curve ball. I want to play this fic by ear and just let it take me where it will, if that's alright.

If anything is confusing, or there are any errors, please tell me! This was a one-sitting, no planning type up. And it's kind of late eheh.. I don't beta my stuff and I should I am sorry OTL
But please enjoy regardless! I feel like I went too fast aaaah OTL;;

I fixed a few of the errors I caught. I still can't make it flow as smooth as I want it to though..

For a time, I thought I had found everything I could have possibly wanted. Life on a quiet island doing what I had always wanted, surrounded by wonderful people. Time both crept by and went a million miles a minute in different respects. It was not an awful lot of variance from day to day, but there was enough to keep me content. I would go into the clinic early and leave late, working on small prescriptions.

It was a blessing that people rarely caught sick on the island, and even if they did, normally simple bed rest would cure the worst of the symptoms. In some dark recess of my mind, I would selfishly hope someone would come to the clinic for more than a sprained wrist or dry cough. Such a terrible thing for a doctor to think; I would become furious with myself for ever even allowing such a dark desire to even fleetingly cross my mind. It was on one of the walks I would take to cool off from one such instance that I had the privilege of meeting her…

I'll never forget her voice: the way she would give thoughtful answers in gentle, lilting tones, as though her phrases were carefully, painstakingly stitched together with the prowess of the finest poet. There was depth in everything she said, and I was entranced by her. I wanted to know everything and anything about her that I could. I was quickly ensnared in love's grip. I was sure that I looked like a fool around her, I constantly faltered in my normally even speech, which she either never noticed, or politely ignored. She began to drop by the clinic with bundles of herbs that she would find. I always kept the clinic well stocked, but could never turn down such thoughtful gifts, what I didn't use in medicine, I would brew tea out of and invite her to enjoy a cup. Soon I was following her around like a lost dog when ever I wasn't required at the clinic. Even my grandmother noticed, taking great pleasure in pronouncing me the "most wonderful kind of sick". It took me quite some time and a great deal of prodding to finally understand she meant "love-sick" and not some sort of strange illness.

This woman I had met by chance… She was the woman of my dreams- the love I had never known I would want. I had been so involved in my medical studies, that while I had been considering finding a relationship of some kind, it had never quite taken precedence. Now it had, and I wanted nothing more than to spend my life with this enchanting soul.

Proposing to her was the second happiest day of my life. Without tears or any sort of shock, she accepted. It was as if she had been waiting, and known I was about to ask for her hand. It was always like that for us, it was like our minds were linked and we were one person and not two. We slid easily into marriage together, owning a house big enough for a family, since we had plans for our future.

I loved how relaxed I felt around her. She was ready and willing to start our own family any time I was. We moved to the beat of the same drum at levels so intimate I hadn't known existed. She would often joke about how a doctor could know so much about the heart but somehow know nothing about his own.

"The human heart is so much more complicated than what's in those thick books of yours, you know."

Not even a year after we were wed, she told me we were going to be parents. I'm not sure how long I stood slack-jawed before finally taking her in my arms, tears of joy spilling from both our eyes. Parenthood was a big step, but I felt like I could do anything with her. We had decided that it would happen when it did, be it now, or years down the road. Our friends and family all gathered and threw together a celebration in our honour.

I felt like I was on top of the world.

But, of course… All good things must come to an end. When you hit rock bottom, you can only go up, so perhaps the principle works the same in reverse..? I hadn't thought there to be a limit to the sky, but I seemed to have found life's limitation to "up", and the only option left was to fall. No, plummet would be a more apt choice of words.

It just happened so fast… She grew suddenly ill, her glowing skin taking on a sickly, grey pallor. I worked tirelessly, day and night, trying to find a solution for her. I couldn't pinpoint what it was that was slowly killing her, and our unborn child. Nothing seemed to work. One night, I became so livid, I tore all records of previous attempts to shreds. I snapped angrily at anyone who was unfortunate to be in my path or who tried to help.

No one could help me- help her. I was failing. My wife was dying before my very eyes and I was clueless and powerless to stop it. Never in my entire life had I felt so small. What was worse was she smiled the entire time, as if to be some comfort to me. I could see she was in pain, the way her cool hand shook as it took mine and the thin, tight line her lips would force an almost believable smile out of. But she still encouraged me and said that she knew I was doing my best.

"No matter what the outcome is, don't blame yourself, Jin… All things in life happen for a reason."

It was the first time in our relationship that I had ever felt so angry at her. How could she say such a thing, she was going to live and we would raise our child. Together.

I could feel my voice cracking and hot tears sear tracks down my cheeks.

It wasn't long after that she died. My failure was complete and absolute. As a husband, as a doctor. I was fit to be neither.

When my head was clear some days after the funeral, I realized something. It had been my fault.

Something more than mundane, routine easy-fix clinic visits. I got a rapid-onset illness with no name and no cure. I had gotten what I had wished for.

Maybe it was foolish to think that, but grief knows no logic, and I suppose I deserved it for ever wishing ill-will on anyone else.

I begged the Harvest Goddess to take me instead, and bring my family back, though, to no avail.

I was dead inside for months afterward. I couldn't shake the guilt. I hadn't meant to let my grandmother take on the entire clinic, and still helped if there were any serious cases to be attended to, but I just couldn't find it in myself to leave the house, though it was probably the worst place in the world for me to be. I would sit on our…Rather, my now entirely-too-large bed and gaze despondently into the darkened corner of the room at the unused crib as it gathered dust. It had been a gift from her parents. I avoided it at all costs. I oft thought of taking it down, but knew I could never so much as get within spitting-distance of it as I was. It could very well stay there until it rotted to the ground, or until the house was demolished, or until I was gone, in one way or another. I wasn't about to touch it, that was all I knew for certain.

…Even now, years later, though I have gone back to the clinic and taken up my old hours once more, I am haunted my this. I don't know what to do with my life. Ending it is pointless, but living is equally as pointless, and painful.

I can't stop thinking I bought this on myself, though I would never tell anyone that. If they knew…. It would be the end of me.

I keep to myself now, more than ever before. I try to live in the present, lest I be consumed by the past. The future is too daunting. I cannot look at something that was once so bright for me in the same way ever again.

I can't even use her name anymore. If, by some off chance it's ever brought up in conversation, I can't even hear it. Lips move, but sound doesn't come out. It's like my mind is trying to block her out from my current life, which is arguably more painful than having to face it.

Why did I have to go and fall in love?

Why is life so cruel?

Simply… I'll never let it happen again… I'll never look at another woman. I'll never listen to her voice or try to demystify her words. I'll not let myself go through this ever again.

I will never again fall in love.