Chapter 1: Misfortune

I do not own Harvest moon or Starbucks coffee.

A rewrite of my first (noteworthy) fanfiction, Fairy Dust and Starbucks Cups.

Should I leave the other version up or something? I don't have the files anymore, so if I take it down, it's a bit of a waste...

Thanks for your support, readers.


It was raining rather heavily the night Hikari's life changed, the frigid sort of early-spring downpour that had an aftermath of cold, clammy dampness that lasted for days. It had glazed over the persistent patches of ice from what was hopefully the last cold snap of the dying winter and had accounted for more than one embarrassing accident on her part. That very day she had dropped an entire carton of eggs in a particularly nasty fall coming back from the supermarket, and had bruised her hip badly. She quite hated winter, really, especially when it was just segueing into spring.

Hikari had forgotten her umbrella (which was broken, anyway) inside the back greenhouse of the florist's where she worked. She hadn't foreseen the bad weather, and was equipped with only a thin trenchcoat (strictly pretty, not practical) to ward off the heavy shower.

It had really started coming down halfway to her little flat, beating on the slick cobblestone streets and flowing along the curbs in miniature floods to the storm-drains.

It was rather late; the warm, pools of light shining through the restaurants' windows and doors had blinked out one by one as she passed through the narrow streets, guided by the flickering, streetlights. A chill wind had started up, lifting the sheeting rain to splatter in her face, semi-solid pellets of water against her icy cheeks.

Maybe she'd call Kathy or Luna... They could give her a ride.

She tried her mediocre cellphone; no reception. And on its last bar of battery, probably just to spite her. Oh, karma. Although… Hikari couldn't really recall anything malicious that she'd done recently…

Stupid, stupid, cheap, unreliable piece of crap it was.

Hikari kept her head down, but the wet permeated her hair, slicked down its warm brown waves and glued them to her visage, the tips dripping ice into the warm, if damp, safety of her coat.

The wind picked up again, gusting the rain into her face, and Hikari squinted through it, staggering again on the cobblestone. She passed A pub, spewing its merry noise into the night, and winced as a round of raucous laughter and the loud, splintering crash of dropped glass exploded from the propped-open doorway.

Hikari hurried past. She was sure there was a nice, quiet cafe around here somewhere, one that had a reliable phone and maybe some hot chocolate... She shivered.

Eventually, she made a detour into a modest coffee shop nestled between another bar and a trendy yoga studio by the pier, both dark. Torn Posters and advertisements were taped to the window in layers, looking almost as though someone had tried to tear them off at one point and just given up. They were soaked and ragged, flapping in the wind, pictures warping and distorting as the ink ran under the bullet-fire of the rain.

Hikari peered in the door. There was no closed or open sign, no list of hours, just a hand-drawn sign promoting fortunetelling (see within for details).

It was almost totally black inside, the kind of dark that seems like a wall, save for a fuzzy, faint glow reflecting off a wall leading into a back room that was almost certainly a candle. Hikari stood under the overhang of the cafe, absently running her fingers along the doorknob before she gathered up her courage and turned it, and finding it unlocked, ventured into the dark. it smelt of coffee; the rich, dark smell of fresh-ground beans. Specifically, Starbucks brand.

"Hello?" She felt along the plastery wall, mindful of the old, creaking hardwood and her dripping clothes, looking for a lightswitch. Her boots were so Heavy against the floor, clunky and awkward.

She touched familiar plastic, and flicked it on, waiting for warm light and seeing only continuous, darkness. No power. Sighing deeply, she flipped open her phone and set the brightness to full, scanning the room with its dim, supplicating halo.

Hikari stood in the square patch of light the streetlights were throwing in through the lone window, studying the barely-there shadows the rain made and the larger, semi-transparent poster-shadows.

She walked toward the back room, trying every lightswitch she could feel until she reached the faint glimmer, using the too-white glow of her dying cellphone to light the way. After what felt like hours of stubbing her toes (which were now throbbing) on the legs of ottomans, armchairs, and table-chair sets, she rounded the corner and found the candle.

It was sitting on a modern-looking dark wooden table, fat in circumference and three-quarters melted, the runny wax pooling around the blackened wick and flowing over the side onto a small plate. It flickered as she approached, darkening the figure sitting at the table for a split second. It was a man resting his head on his arms, an unlawfully-thick book resting in front of him, obviously asleep. A cup of stale, cold coffee sat fermenting next to the candle and a spent flashlight lay on its side near the table's edge.

Hikari tried whispering, poking gently at his forearm.

"...Hey... Could I use your phone?"

Tugging at the jacket, she repeated herself until he raised his arm and waved her off, yawning.

"...We're closed."

Hiker couldn't really tell in the candlelight, but his hair appeared to be very light in colour, almost silvery, contrasting as sharply with his tanned skin as the stark-white tattoo below his right eye.

Hikari could only stare into his eyes, unsure of what to say. They were very interesting eyes, by far the most intense case of heterochromia she had ever seen.

Light eyes weren't typically a feature she observed on darker-skinned people, and heterochromia was even less common. But this man had both. She peered closer at them, trying to discern the colour from the flickering orange of candlelight reflecting off their surface. He stared back calmly, visibly unfazed.

The right was morning-sunrise yellow, so bright that it couldn't possibly be natural. The left was bottle-green, deep and mysterious as the sea she so often found green bottles in.

Contacts for sure, but why would someone purchase two sets of coloured contacts just to wear one of each colour? Unless... he was a weirdo, and this was one of those occult-subculture cafes.

Hikari swallowed thickly, uncertain and frightened.

"Um... I'm sorry for intruding, but your door was unlocked..."

He nodded benignly. She flushed and looked away, studying the wall before letting her next sentence escape the safety of her brain.

"Do you have a phone I could use? My cell has no reception here..." Hikari trailed off, making a conscious effort to not ramble.

"Behind the bar."

He stood up to his full height, which was a few inches taller than hikari and led the way, balancing the plate with the candle on his palm.

She dialed Luna first and listened grimly to the four rings, and then to the cheerful answering message, punctuated toward the end with her sister Candace sneezing and a lot of muffled yelling.

Kathy's was similar.

Turning around, she grunted in surprise at the man, who had silently appeared beside her holding two mugs and a towel.

"...You don't want your... fortune or anything?" he was bent over at the fireplace, trying to pack in more flyers (which looked suspiciously like kin of the posters taped to the windows) while she sat in an armchair, sipping her drink. Hikari relished the warmth of the hot cocoa (it was homemade, which shocked her) as it slipped down her throat, resisting a small smile as it heated her stomach as well.

He got the fire started and stood back up, gazing questioningly at her.

She must've made a face, a grimace, because he sat in the armchair across from her and laced his fingers together, sighing.

"...You don't believe me." his voice was unbothered, resigned to the fact-of-life that was skeptics.

"I'm sorry... I can't." She was avoiding his eyes again, ashamed of her human nature, embarrassed with her inability to be polite.

"Magic... exists." he said it placidly, as if he was remarking on a topic no more relevant than the weather.

And suddenly, he raised his index finger, drew it across his palm sharply, and produced a flame, like a match.

"And I am... the Wizard."

Hikari's eyes were huge, and she was barely able to debunk the phenomenon as sleight-of-hand. She told him such, and he stood casually, pointing at her with the aflame finger.

There was no hidden match. The flame was burning a hairsbreadth from the skin of his finger, as if his fingernail was the match itself.

Hiker gasped and the Wizard waved his finger, extinguishing it.

"Doesn't that... hurt?" her voice was small, and she cursed it for its sudden childishness.

He drank deeply from his mug before replying.

"...Not...really."

"How far is Cherry Street from here?" Hikari fidgeted, having finished her drink. Wizard appeared to be nodding off in his chair.

"...Ten minutes. The rain... It's almost... stopped."

"Okay. Thank you very much. I'm sorry to bother you this late..."

He saw her to the door with an umbrella, in case the rain really hadn't let up that much.


This chapter is one of my bigger ones. I can't write long chapters well. I always feel like they're going to be rambly.

Trying to stick to the original plot with some improvements and better writing. This version is less light, less centered on cuteness and more plot-driven (mostly because it actually HAS a plot this time around...).

See you next chapter. Tell me your thoughts. I love seeing your reactions and interpretations